Ed’s note: Portrait of a Beijinger is an original video series for the Anthill by Tom Fearon and Abel Blanco. Each month, Tom and Abel will profile an ordinary Beijinger with an extraordinary story. The first episode in the series, along with Tom’s description of meeting its protagonist Liu Xinran, is republished with permission from the Anthill.

Liu Xinran has a face many Chinese women would envy. High cheekbones, smooth skin and a narrow chin give him a coveted guazilian or “melon-seed face”. He introduces himself in a voice much softer than the one that will fill the Zhengyici Peking Opera Theatre in a few hours time.

“Did you find your way here OK?” he asks.

“No problem at all,” I reply, shaking his manicured hand.

We step into the 300 year old theatre. It is empty except for a couple of janitors whose vacuum cleaner drowns an erhu (Chinese fiddle) strummed by a young woman in glasses by the side of the stage.

Dressed in a knitted pullover, grey trousers and cloth shoes, Liu struts around stage waving a wand-like prop and warming up his vocal chords. He stares into the camera as if confronting an intruder on stage, his eyes as piercing as his voice. Each delicate step is timed to the downbeat of the erhu. A passionate argument of falsetto versus fiddle ensues, begging for an opera gong to weigh in and restore calm.

Peking opera has the shortest history of the hundreds of Chinese opera styles, but remains the most influential. The curtain fell on it during the Cultural Revolution when it was denounced as bourgeois, but curious tourists, nostalgic locals and state-run drama academies are providing a modern encore for a national treasure.

Liu, 38, is a rarity. Unlike many of the performers in his troupe who were trained as children, he took up the craft after quitting his job as a publicity clerk for the Beijing Meteorological Bureau in 2010. His parents protested, but his destiny had been sealed four years earlier when he won the top prize at the Beijing Amateur Peking Opera Competition.

He also stands out as one of only around a dozen active nandan performers in Beijing – men who portray female characters in Peking opera. I ask if he is inspired by the most famous nandan, Mei Lanfang, whose black-and-white portrait eyes us solemnly from the back of the theatre. But Liu says his mantra on stage is innovation, not imitation; copying Mei will lead to the “death of my artistic life”.

After the interview we head backstage. An old man irons sequined loose-sleeved costumes as the cast trickles in. There are no makeup artists or hair stylists; all preening is done by performers themselves. Eyes locked on their rapidly transforming reflections, they chat excitedly about plans for the upcoming Spring Festival.

An announcement prohibiting photography during the show is made as the audience settles into cushioned wooden chairs, but we are told it doesn’t apply to us. Apparently, we aren’t alone. Smartphone shutter noises click between cracking sunflower seeds throughout the show, but the performers aren’t fazed. Having their photos beamed on WeChat feeds might draw new faces the next night.

Later, Liu shows me his other passion: his beverage can collection. We walk down a narrow concrete corridor stained with cellphone numbers towards his eighth-floor apartment. A thick haze lingers overhead and firework debris dances below. Liu’s home is tidy, with a framed calligraphy scroll in the living room and an impressive collection of scotch and other expensive liquors. But he explains his year-round drink of choice is hot water, to protect his voice.

The cans are all in mint condition. It is a collector’s (and trash peddler’s) heaven. Sorted by age and location, each can contains a memory of a certain place or performance. Liu picks out a dozen of his favourites and gives them a gentle polish before lining them on a table in the living room for our slow dolly pan.

Before parting, Abel and I offer him a token of our appreciation – a nice bottle of Spanish olive oil and some TimTam chocolate biscuits from Australia. Mementos from our respective countries, to add to his collection.

Text, interviewing and subtitles are by Tom Fearon; cinematography and photos are by Abel Blanco.

Tom Fearon is a writer and editor who has lived in China since 2009. He worked in Chinese state media for many years, and previously as a print journalist in Cambodia and Australia. He now works in communications at an international school. You can read his poems for the Anthill here.

Abel Blanco is a videographer based in Beijing who formerly worked in broadcast media in Spain. You can see some of his other short films here.

Next month’s video is about a deli owner in Changping with a military relic museum in the basement. To recommend a person to be profiled in the series, please contact Tom.

This post originally appeared on the Anthill, where there are more photos of the performers.

There’s verve here. Brio. These singers are rouged with holy spirit and plainly happier than you and I, poor nonbelievers at Christmas Mass. Why do we continue to pay the price for our pride? Who are we to let the piddling inconvenience of no Gmail make us glum, corruptible, not-rippling as befits our 5,000 years, unfaithful and obfuscated and dark and meekly dying on sand? March to this goddamn battuta, guys. INTERNET POWER. Hotdamn.

Says Sinosphere:

A throwback to revolutionary songs glorifying the state, the piece uses rich, if mixed, metaphors to boast of China’s influence over the Internet and its innovative prowess. To a bombastic battuta that sounds a bit like a military march, employees at the Cyberspace Administration, who reportedly worked overtime to practice the song, belted out memorable lines like, “Unified with the strength of all living things, Devoted to turning the global village into the most beautiful scene” and “An Internet power: Tell the world that the Chinese Dream is uplifting China.”

The song was performed during the Beijing Internet Association’s well-attended (and apparently televised) Lunar New Year celebration on Tuesday, if that were at all important, which it isn’t. This is the best thing Chinese censorship has ever given us.

WSJ’s Real Time China Report has translated a competing set of lyrics in which INTERNET POWER is given the primacy it richly deserves.

在这片天空日月忠诚的守望
Keeping faithful watch under this sky, the Sun and the Moon

为日出东方使命担当
Undertaking this mission for the break of dawn [in the East]

创新每个日子拥抱着清朗
Creating, embracing everyday clarity and brightness

像一束廉洁阳光感动在心上
Like a beam of incorruptible sunlight, touching our hearts

团结万物生长的力量
Uniting the powers of life from all creation

奉献地球村成为最美的风光
Offerings to the global village become the most beautiful of scenery

网络强国　网在哪光荣梦想在哪
Internet Power! The Web is where glorious dreams are

网络强国　从遥远的宇宙到思念的家
Internet Power! From the distant cosmos to the home we long for

网络强国　告诉世界中国梦在崛起大中华
Internet Power! Tell the world that the China Dream is lifting Greater China to prominence

网络强国　一个我在世界代表着国家
Internet Power! One self represents the nation to the world

在这个世界百川忠诚寻归海洋
In this world, all rivers loyally seek to return to the sea

担当中华文明的丈量
Bearing the measure of Chinese civilization

五千年沉淀点亮创新思想
5,000 years settle and give light to creative new thinking

廉洁就是一个民族清澈荡漾
Incorruptibility is the clear rippling of a nation

我们团结在天地中央
We unite at the center of Heaven and Earth

信仰奉献流淌万里黄河长江
Belief and giving flow for thousands of miles down the Yellow and Yangtze Rivers

网络强国　网在哪光荣梦想在哪
Internet Power! The Web is where glorious dreams are

网络强国　从遥远的宇宙到思念的家
Internet Power! From the distant cosmos to the home we long for

网络强国　告诉世界中国梦在崛起大中华
Internet Power! Tell the world that the China Dream is lifting Greater China to prominence

网络强国　一个我在世界代表着国家
Internet Power! One self represents the nation to the world

The Web is where glorious dreams are. It’s a dream that hangs in the interstice of stars. It lies within your self, you just have to know how to grasp it.

I didn’t want to like this — and I probably still don’t — but I will say: watching it, it gets better. If your goal in a music video is to out-weird PSY and the Ylvis (“The Fox”), you probably should go all out like Rolling Wang Rong did and do stuff like this:

Neatorama — possibly just to be polite — called Rollin Wang Rong’s (or Wang Rong Rollin) music “catchy and danceable.” Daily Mail collected some positive reviews from viewers. The Daily Beast had this take:

Wang Rong was a powerful 10th century warlord during the Tang Dynasty who, through a series of political maneuvers that would make Frank Underwood green with envy, rose to become the ruler of Zhao. It’s also the namesake of a female Chinese pop star that just released the most bonkers music video of the year.

“Chick Chick,” the latest tune by C-Pop sensation Wang Rong, is like “Gangnam Style” on MDMA. The video consists of dancers in white tutus clucking like chickens—all the lyrics consist of five different farm noises, from cuckoos to rooster clucks—and it only gets weirder from there.

We’re not entirely convinced (of anything). Does Wang Rong show postmodern musicality? Are there hidden meanings? New-age dance potential? Let’s discuss.

Here are some lyrics:

Mother chicken mother chicken mother chicken mother chicken mother chicken mother chicken cluck cluck DAY

Small chicken small chicken small chicken small chicken small chicken small chicken small chicken cluck cluck DAY

Mother chicken mother chicken mother chicken mother chicken mother chicken mother chicken cluck cluck DAY

Male chicken male chicken male chicken male chicken ah ah ah

Mother chicken mother chicken mother chicken mother chicken mother chicken mother chicken cluck cluck DAY

Small chicken small chicken small chicken small chicken small chicken small chicken small chicken cluck cluck DAY

Mother chicken mother chicken mother chicken mother chicken mother chicken mother chicken cluck cluck DAY

The video has 5.2 million hits on YouTube and 2.56 million on Youku.

So, before I begin, I guess I should get one thing out of the way: I write that show that all expats seem to hate but Chinese people seem to like – see the sketch I wrote about potatoes.

Yes, of course you could no doubt do it better; and yes, I agree, why do they even bother employing us? We’re not even funny. Now that I’ve saved you the hassle of leaving those sentiments in the comments section, I’ll get to the nitty gritty.

Several days ago, Tao sent me an email asking for a comment on a video that I had never seen before. Said video was of my co-host, Rob Hemsley, from that show you all hate, rapping in Chinese about being a gangster panda(!). Yes, honestly. As far as I can tell, it isn’t a parody. I had absolutely no clue what it was about and was a little perplexed by the whole thing, as Rob basically went off and filmed it of his own accord.

Tao asked for a breakdown of the video and a profile of “the enigma that is Rob Hemsley,” so here goes:

You know you’re in for a fucking treat when the first line of the song is “Yeeah, yeeah.” Wearing a snazzy single-breasted suit, Rob flexes his Chinese with the line “脱掉 (take it off).” A conveniently pretty Chinese girl appears and proceeds to take off a panda suit that she just so happens to be wearing. She spends the rest of the song swaying back and forth, looking aimlessly around in her bra and pants.

The following line is “Yeeah, Yeeah, Yeeah, Yeeah, Yeeah.” Classic line, probably took a while to come up with but no doubt the right thing to do.

What follows is a couple of references to movies stars/characters such as actor Simon Yam, fictional characters Li Kui and Chan Ho-Nam, and a quick mention of Yip Man – the Asian demographic will be super-pleased.

When the chorus hits, there’s more “Yeeah, Yeeah, Yeeah, Yeeah, Yeeah” lines to get you in the mood, alongside scattered shots of Rob wearing sunglasses and shots of him not wearing sunglasses. Occasionally the girl is leaning on him, and at other times she isn’t.

A bit later, after Rob says, “All the ladies love me, but Chinese girls are my favourite,” the young lady takes her bra off with her back to the camera. Next scene, it’s back on again! It’s getting crazy now.

There’s a bit more posturing and Rob tells the girl to take it all off – she doesn’t. The song finishes up with a few more “Yeeah, Yeeah, Yeeah, Yeeah, Yeeahs,” and Rob says several sentences in what sounds like an American accent, while the girl repeatedly holds up her hair, for what reason I’m not quite sure.

It’s clear that Rob has done his research on the world of hip hop.

Does the video have a woman in a bra and panties for no reason?

You better believe it!

Does that same woman simulate oral sex with a lollipop whilst the camera lingers for slightly too long, all the while maintaining constant eye contact?

Of course she does.

Does the performer constantly use the word “Yeeeah” over and over again, punctuated by the occasional grunt?

You betcha… Yeeeah, Uh!

The most impressive thing about the whole video though is that Rob wrote the lyrics (according to the credits), which is amazing considering that Rob doesn’t (or didn’t as of last week) even speak Chinese.

If anything, this is just more proof that Rosetta Stone really does work. Either that, or Rob has mastered the art of writing English lyrics, which, when translated into Chinese, automatically rhyme. Incredible!

Interesting fact: Rob almost broke the Guinness World Record for eating Chinese chuanr kebabs during a recent eating contest in Solana, Beijing. He ate 45 huge chuanr sticks in 15 minutes. The record was broken on the same day by a guy who ate 46. The prize: an all-expenses-paid trip to the World Cup in Brazil. Gutted!

The nunchucks are an unnecessary touch, turning a cheesy, goofily syncopated music video into Balls of Fury. Actually, this whole thing is stupid. So, so stupid.

The screengrabs are pretty sweet though:

DC rappers Pacman and Peso, who made waves in January after releasing a music video filmed in Pyongyang, North Korea (a trip that their friend and colleague, Ramsey Aburdene, documented for this site), are back with another video, this one set in Beijing. There’s a lot to love about this, including:

• The streaking protester on Tiananmen at the start. Pacman and Peso has allowed us to host their video on Youku (below), but I’m shocked this first scene got by the censors. (We’ll see if it lasts.) Also, I was disappointed the streaker was not DC native / Beijing transplant Ryan Ha — you’ll have to wait for his cameo later.
• Taking pictures with locals under the gaze of Mao Zedong.
  
• Whatever’s happening at the 1:21 mark. Seriously, this kid:
• Kinda like when Ai Weiwei gave the middle finger on Tiananmen, but not at all like that:
• This screengrab:
• And this one:
• And this:
• A Ryan Ha spotting!
• And the last 10 seconds.

Don’t ask questions, just love it.

My Nigga comes off Pacman and Peso’s mixtape, Like a Movie, which will be available on April 20 on DatPiff.com. Aburdene informs us that the two will be opening for the Migos at Ibiza nightclub in DC that night, so check em out if you’re in the area.

Here’s Pacman and Peso’s website, and you can also follow them on Twitter.

The world is slowly discovering that the Chinese music landscape is not limited to folk tunes and revolutionary ballads. As China’s indie rock, blues and trip-hop artists head abroad, avoiding the “Made in China” label has become a major concern.

China’s music industry doesn’t have the best reputation. In spite of the achievements of independent artists, the domestic music industry remains obsessed with fresh-faced idols cultivated in the Korean and Japanese pop model.

It’s a world where trendiness drums out any notion of musical talent.

“What we’re seeing is an aggressive commercialization of Chinese music,” says Da Meng, the bassist of Screaming Kong. Screaming Kong was founded four years ago by a group of four high school friends. Although the band’s strong grassroots following has brought it several offers from bigger labels, its members have rejected them all.

“We’re not signed because we don’t want to be,” Da Meng said.

China’s music industry has inherited some of the worst elements of the Korean model. Executives focus on building a cult of personality around singers and groups fueled by commercial appearances on variety shows and front-page placements.

It’s a schedule that leaves any signed band with little room for artistic growth.

When talking about their dream, Screaming Kong’s members say they want to sing for friends and strangers rather than appear on the big stage. “We’ve even thought about traveling overseas as street performers,” said Feng Hanbo, the drummer.

“Anyone can perform in the Golden Hall of Vienna or the Sydney Opera House if they can afford the rent. I wouldn’t want to play one of those venues unless we were invited,” he said.

But invitations are unlikely as foreign audiences remain puzzled about what “Chinese music” is.

The independent and commercial scenes are sending the world very mixed messages about Chinese music, and at the moment the commercial scene is winning. Many reviewers, composers and producers see a bright future for China’s commercial music as domestic TV idol contests win attention abroad.

“When we look at the singers who have found fame on stage, we can see the potential for Chinese music to reach a higher level,” said Shan He, a professor at the Tianjin Institute of Music.

As a reviewer on the idol TV show I Am a Singer, Shan’s experience with Chinese music is intimately tied to the commercial side of the industry. But even there he sees hope.

“I am seeing musicians more dedicated to their work and really thinking about what they are singing,” he said. “Seeking a breakthrough is the way they can improve their music.”

Hua Chenyu, the champion of 2013’s Super Boy, was praised by American Idol judge Paula Abdul for his personal interpretation of Lady Gaga’s “Poker Face” during the competition.

But many remain guarded about whether idol-oriented development will give China anything new to bring to the world’s stage.

“We have no idea what our future will be like, nor how the music in China will grow,” Da Meng said. “But a good or bad result depends on the audience.”

This post originally appeared in Beijing Today. (Image via)

I dreamed up this video on a Beijing bus. They get a bad rap, but for those not close to a subway stop and possessing a limber mind, Beijing buses make for a fascinating real-time social-psychology laboratory. Sitting (okay, standing) in one of these sardine cans at rush hour, I watch the city stitch itself together. Forced to slog through a Dongzhimen Wai traffic jam also forces me to soak up the reserved dignity of a grandma jealously guarding her massive cabbage haul, or the feigned disinterest of uniformed high schoolers thieving glances and sharing earbuds. You’ve got Hall of Fame migrant grinders sitting on all the possessions they’ll be bringing home this year, and next to them the offspring of other grinders giggling on their way to blowing some cash at Sanlitun.

What can I say? I’m a total sucker for those scenes and the fictitious backstories that I whip up before hopping off at my stop.

When I paired this people-watching with George Gershwin’s masterpiece the stories around me took on that epic resonance only possible in the echo chamber of one’s own head. It’s a city of grinders, true believers and people who just don’t give a shit about anything except where their next donkey sandwich is coming from. And yet somehow when you throw it all together and cloak it in jazzy trumpet and yearning violin you get something utterly engrossing and beautiful.

Am I romanticizing it all? Yep. Is that way more fun than demonizing the place and the people around you? Oh hellz yes.

My dad introduced me to Rhapsody in Blue when I was in elementary school. He’d tell me that it was a tour through turn-of-the-century New York and he’d narrate the scenery and the characters as we flew from Brooklyn streets up into Manhattan apartments. I’ve loved the piece ever since then, and as Beijing welcomed me into its throttling embrace I kept making Rhapsody in Blue my soundtrack to the city.

Several more months of terrible air, bad publicity and one inspired brainstorm session with my friend Kyle convinced me that this was a movie that needed be made. Beijing right now is one of the most fascinating clusters of humanity in the world and yet it’s almost perpetually shrouded in a layer of physical and public relations pollution. I get that. I’ve read the history, I breathe the air, I eat the gutter oil, and yeah, that all sucks. But at the end of the day this place just has an energy that I’m in love with.

It’s the people, the bustle, the contrast, the audacity, the poverty, the history and the haggling over vegetable prices. Privacy is a luxury anywhere in China, but that means we have the luxury of watching life happen all around us.

So last summer I started roaming the city with a little handheld camera, discreetly (or not) trying to capture the people that give life to Beijing. I spent the summer in a language program at Beijing Normal University and I’d take off most afternoons to sweat through the streets and snag a few extra shots. The video includes lots of bits from my neighborhood (甜水园街北口, holla), my school (北京师范大学, PIB, come at me), and my absolute favorite place in the city: Jingshan Park.

And you know what? It was a gorgeous summer and an elegant fall. Beijing may be coy, but when it decides to flaunt its sun-soaked pagodas or let you lose yourself in its alleyways, the city is flat-out beautiful.

I made Rhapsody in Beijing because I wanted to give this city it’s due and show that it’s more than the butt of some cynic’s joke. I love Beijing and feel so damn lucky to be living here.

Matt Sheehan is a journalist currently writes for The Huffington Post/The World Post. You can follow him on Twitter at @mattsheehan88 or contact him at mattsheehan88@gmail.com. His previous stories for Beijing Cream include Anatomy of a Chinese Airport Rumble.

Q: Tell me a little bit about your background.
A: I’m an actor, a stand-up comedian, a theatrical performer, a writer, a singer, a rapper, and blah blah blah person in the entertainment industry. I mean we all have to wear multiple hats in this industry especially as an Asian American Artist (AAA). There is limited opportunity for AAA to shine in front of the big screen, so I try my best to survive in my work field.

Q: How did you get involved with Patrice Wilson of Rebecca Black “Friday” fame?
A: It was just a simple phone call, and that was all. Patrice’s assistant was looking for a Mandarin speaking actor for “Chinese Food,” and my name showed up on a casting website. I guess I was just lucky!

Q: Your recent videos “Chinese Food” and “Get in My Car” both touch on Asian themes and feature Mandarin. Why this China focus?
A: It all started with Chinese Food, and only because Patrice loves Chinese Food, so we made a song about Chinese Food. Despite the remarks and comments from American viewers on YouTube, the song actually had a lot of positive feedbacks from the Chinese viewers on Youku. After the song became a huge hit, he had another vision to make a Chinese song catering to Chinese viewers. I would guess it’s his way of thanking all his Chinese viewers and fans. That is how “Get In The Car” was created.

Q: What have been the reactions to your videos? Have you been getting a lot of reactions from people in China?
A: The song is now 300,000 in China, and we are the top song right now on Youku. We get a lot of comments of the song been very catchy. The music definitely gets stuck in your head when you listen to it just once. It’s Patrice’s magic!! Other comments are there to generate hits for the music video to go viral, so they can be negative, but effective for sustaining views. I, myself, haven’t really seen many reviews about me which I am pretty bummed out about. I also like to get notice! I want to shine too! Thank you Patrick for giving me the spot light here by the way. I think I want to steal the light from Grace since most reviews were about her and not me. HaHa.

Q: “Where is a very good place to ride my horse? Santa Monica, Las Vegas? Where is my coffee mug? Hey, there’s a China Girl!” Which is to say, what exactly?
A: I came up with the lyrics, and I was trying to see how many words I could fit in before Grace sang hers. Actually it’s a mirroring element that we put into the video from Chinese Food if you remember. Patrice likes to bring old elements into the new video. It’s purely experimental, but it’s relatable from one video to another. In Chinese Food, I said everything in Mandarin as quick and as much as possible. Get In My Car is just a reverse of that. Were things very random? Well, you could say that, but it was based on the reverse idea as well. In Chinese Food, I was saying “I would rather make a pancake” while I was cooking noodle. In Get In My Car, I was saying “I would rather ride a horse” while I was on a plane. You get the idea? Another one I would let you guess… it’s from the Rebecca Black’s Friday. (Driving and Rapping in the car…)

Q: Where are you going with these videos? Tell me about the big dream.
A: I’m not going anywhere with these videos since they weren’t really focusing on me! Just kidding. Actually I enjoy working with Patrice and his crew, I would love to work with them on their future projects as well. My big dream is to win Oscar if you ask me, but for these videos, I want people to enjoy, to talk about them, to strike a conversation with someone, to appreciate the art work and music, to come up with more creative comments, and to sing them in the shower. I maybe will follow Patrice’s footstep and create my own music videos and feature different artists in the future.

Q: Why do you think these videos get so many views?
A: Lucky! I’m kidding again. There are so many elements and methods that Patrice put into making a hit. One of the simplest idea is to understand the curiousity of the audience. If I tell you to check out something on youtube that I THINK it’s amazing, you MIGHT watch it. And if I tell you to check out something that is TERRIBLE but definitely have to check it out, you WILL watch it. Because your curiosity will want to see how BAD can this be. The idea of BAD IS GOOD is genius! You rather watch something dramatic and crazy than something boring because it entertains you more.

Q: You’re @RealTomChou. Got any thoughts on those fake Tom Chou posers out there?
A: I have not yet find a fake Tom Chou poser. Is there any out there yet? It’s simply a twitter account name. It’s just first come first serve you know. Maybe I’m actually the fake Tom Chou here! Please don’t sue me.

Q: Anything else you want to tell folks?
A: For all the dreamers out there, myself included, don’t jump off the cliff just yet! I know it’s tough out there, and I’m still struggling like rest of you, but one day your hard work will be known and appreciated. Luck is substantial, but working hard is the key to success. Life is too short to dream big, so dream bigger! See you at the Oscar!

In case you missed the videos:

I went to write down snarky commentary, but I couldn’t even start pulling it apart. Sure, I can point the pidgin English, fake ethnic costumes, and the song’s undertones of pedophilia…but would I even be accomplishing anything? It glows so hot with obvious troll, that I think the best thing to do is to back away slowly and pretend nothing happened.

Ed’s note: The creator, Patrice Wilson, was also the person responsible for the undigested-sausage-wreck that was Alison Gold’s “Chinese Food.”

“Hey, there’s a China girl!”

After two-plus years, Lady Gaga has been removed from China’s musical blacklist, which means she can now perform on the mainland. Her third studio album, ARTPOP, has also been approved for release, as the singer herself announced in a tweet: “I’m so excited!!!! The Chinese Government Approved ARTPOP to be released in China with all 15 songs!”

But…

Look at the side-by-side images of ARTPOP – China and ARTPOP – everywhere else, above. Black stockings and bigger blue rubber ball for the Chinese audience. Welcome to the land of artistic censorship.

While we don’t know how the “Goddess of Love” will react, an executive at the singer’s Chinese record label, Universal Music, told Sinosphere last week:

Changing the cover of “Artpop” must be a way to “avoid risk” during that process with “a compromise,” the executive said.

Compromise. The first of more?

Please note that the issue here is not, specifically, how much cleavage an album cover should allow, or whether stockinged legs are less provocative than bare ones. Very simply, how many compromises must artists — Lady Gaga in this instance, though we can ask for hypothetical others — make before it’s no longer worth it? And who really loses, then — them, or China?

You know my answer. Feel free to play devil’s advocate.

Donnie has a music video. He worked on it for three months. It features pandas and handjobs, and if you didn’t think of the Oriental Pearl Tower as phallic before, well:

In other words, classic Donnie. Have at it.

Sounds like a green tea bitch.

Music produced by Conrank featuring Koz and Lufy
Shot, directed & edited by Alessio Avezzano
Video produced by Jake Goodwin

Get the track here!

From the dude behind Laowai Style and the bilingual comedy website Laugh Beijing:

In China nowadays, there is only one thing that remains true: Mo Money = Mo Fazhan!
While most rap tends to be microeconomic (purchasing habits, non-traditional markets for guns and drugs, etc.), I chose to go for macroeconomic rap this time.

Pacman, Peso, and I recently returned from a 16-day Asia trip that included a five-day stay in the Democratic People’s Republic of Korea (as in America, the N-word is taboo in DPRK). This journey started in August when our record label, Forest Hills Tenleytown Music Group, launched a Kickstarter seeking $6,000 to fund the trip and a music video called “Escape to North Korea.” With the help of a five-page feature in the Washington Post Style section and a generous $5,100 donation from James Passin (aka “The American Who Bought Mongolia”), we were able to raise $10,400 and get a lot of attention in the process. People actually cared, for some reason.

Pacman, Peso, FHTMG Vice President Esteban Glower and I arrived in Beijing on November 17 ready to take Asia by storm. Our host was Ryan Ha, a fellow Washington DC native and co-founder of Comedy Club China, who had motorcycles ready to go despite the fact that none of us had driven motorcycles before. Not surprisingly, we had three accidents within our first several hours. Pacman was held captive for several hours as we negotiated a settlement to damages made to a parked car.

Despite these setbacks, we got many great shots for Pacman & Peso’s music video for “My Nigga” — check out the track off their debut mixtape Coming Soon – set in Beijing and scheduled for release next month. While we were shooting at Tiananmen Square, we got some footage of a naked elderly lady being tackled by plainclothes police as she presumably protested something, though we aren’t sure what. Everywhere we went, zhongguoren couldn’t get enough of Pacman and Peso – many dreadlocks were touched/grabbed and many pictures were taken with huge grins.

Here’s a laowai who loves his hometown of Cleveland so much that he raps about its charms to a Chinese audience. Cleveland, the city whose football team has had more staph infection lawsuits than playoff appearances since 1999, the city with a sulphuric I-71 cutting through it, the city consistently ranked one of the worst in the US, the city…

Ah, screw it. My heart’s not into making Cleveland jokes. Just watch this.

(H/T Jonathan Alpart)

UPDATE, 11/10, 12:53 pm: As Des Bishop points out, the song’s beat is taken from local rap outfit Yin Ts’ang’s excellent “Welcome to Beijing.”