Why thank you, Sina. Wait, are you referring to me? Do I pass the decency test? God, now I am unsure. Let us bounce this to the masses. Sometimes I drink too much, but I’m never violent unless it involves executing a professional wrestling move such as the spear onto a friend into bushes or... Read more »
By Valentina Luo It looks like someone not only watched last year’s The Founding of a Party, but actually paid attention. A group of Chinese scientists are rumored to have “founded” the Chinese Scientist Liberal Democratic Party [中国科学家自由民主党], news of which we first noticed in the Chinese edition of Epoch Times on May 1. The Epoch Times, as parlance goes, is... Read more »
A confluence of factors led to what appears to be at least a two-mile traffic jam in northwest Beijing on Saturday night. (Prepare to gape in horror around the 30-second mark as the camera pans out.) It was raining. It was a long block. It was in Zhongguancun, an incredibly busy part of town known for its electronics stores and colleges. And, most crucially, a traffic light had broken. This is my every nightmare about the city, frightening precisely because I -- and any Beijinger, really -- could easily find myself stuck in that paralyzing morass of postmodernity, equipped with no salve for a spiking blood pressure except heinous imaginings of unspeakable acts to perform on sentient, suffering beings. The abyss gazes back indeed.
What a cunt.
This is Yang Rui. You can’t really see it, but I have it on good authority that his tie is the foreskin for his head. You may have glimpsed him on TV. I haven’t. Because if I ever did see him on TV, I would own a TV with a shoe in it.
Holding the party in the open air of Sanlitun Soho and suggesting “beachwear” as a dress code was clearly pivotal: the signal for Beijing’s really quite impressively large douchebag population to give full vent to their oeuvre of tics and mores. “Dress code? Dude… I was wearing this Hawaiian shirt with oversized aviators, four days’ beard growth and a jaunty pork-pie hat when I woke up!”
We arrive just after four. Upon entering the “gate,” there was a kind, red reminder for all foreigners that there is a crackdown going on for the next 100 years, that undercover police would be among the crowd and that the magazine would not be held responsible for any problems that ensued. Always the best way to get the party started.
Foreign Policy, that award-winning online magazine devoted to “analyz[ing] the most significant international trends and events of our times, without regard to ideology or political bias,” just gave an evangelical pastor 1,200 words to promulgate his religious propaganda. “Like most Chinese, I was educated an atheist,” writes Bob Fu to begin his panegyric to God... Read more »
The “Western press” -- and “the West” in general -- got a pretty good beating in Chinese editorials this week. Mostly, the Western media got accused of, shall we say, imaginary things, dreamed up in Hu Xijin’s prion-addled brain under his dead-rat hairpiece. We’ll discuss some of the “Western media’s” perceived slights, sins and misdemeanors this week, all dreamed up by nincompoops who work in the leviathan’s anal prolapse that is Chinese media.
I thought I would do a Chen-free column this week, but the Global Times didn’t let me.
On a political level, this is what happened last week at the American embassy:
We’ve complained about the snobbishness of Time Out’s food awards, and noted that City Weekend’s attempts to promote its awards can probably do without an Ashley Tisdale soundtrack. Where does that leave us? Ah, yes, the Beijinger. Top dog for nine years, king of Beijing’s nightlife scene, like Hong Xiuquan reigning over Taiping Heavenly Kingdom. Voting is open until... Read more »
By RFH When is a book not a book? When it is written in the mind, perhaps, or when it is written by a politician. My proposed book about modern China has been somewhat taken over by events, but it had all the makings of good satire. The location: in a country dedicated to GDP growth,... Read more »
