It was only a matter of time before the chattering classes turned their condescending gaze upon the BTS Army. Yet, the tale of thousands of fans losing their savings to ticket scammers is not merely a story of youthful naivety. It is a parable of our collective intellectual and moral decay.
We are witnessing a phenomenon that would have delighted Chaucer: the timeless gullibility of the crowd, now turbocharged by social media and algorithmic hype. The scalpers and fraudsters of today are the Pardoners of old, peddling fake relics to desperate souls. And the BTS fans?
They are the pilgrims, hoping for a transcendent experience, only to be fleeced. The tragedy is not their loss of money, but their loss of discernment. We have abandoned the old forms of community and trust—brick-and-mortar ticket offices, regulated queues, paper stubs—for the ephemeral promise of a digital link.
In doing so, we have made ourselves prey. The scammers are merely the symptom. The disease is a culture that values access over authenticity, and the immediate dopamine hit of a pre-sale code over the patient cultivation of taste.
When we laugh at the BTS Army for their credulity, we laugh at ourselves. For their frenzy is but a mirror of our own desperate need to belong, to connect, and to possess a piece of the sacred. In the end, perhaps the only lesson is this: if you want a ticket to the show, be prepared to pay the devil his due.
Or better yet, stay home and read a book. The band will not miss you. But your bank account will thank you.
