A message to all the laowai out there, courtesy of your good pengyou Yan Xishan….
Click for the full size.
Being back in Taiyuan is great–how I survived those long months of near captivity in the United States, not to mention my near disastrous campaigns out in the Tibetan highlands, I have no idea. I swear I may never leave my beloved Shanxi. My wives–at least those who were not pimped out to the peasant hordes–are keeping me loopy on fenjiu while my favorite qinqiang opera stars “perform” for me all night long. Damn it feels good to be a warlord.
But my good fortune has a tinge of sadness as I think of a former colleague who no longer shares the good warlord life. I speak of Feng Yuxiang.
As my more thoughtful readers might remember, I had suspected that my boy Yuxiang (no, not the fish sauce) might be in charge of Beiping, but I now know he is in charge of jack shit. You see, that pussy whipped cut-and-runner Jiang Jieshi is determined to keep Feng Yuxiang out of power. What a fall from grace… Feng and I were once within a battle or two of pushing Jiang Jieshi into an early retirement… who knows, maybe he could have gone to the US and learned how to use a fork. Jiang lucked out, and while I am still firmly in control of Shanxi, Feng does not have two Mexican silver dollars to rub together.
Now, Feng Yuxiang and I have had our differences. He has been at times known as the “Christian General” and the “Red General.” That tells you he is something of a moralist, and he loves to get on his high horse and tell people not to whore around, drink, or gamble. Fuck that! What is the point of being a warlord if I cannot get loaded with some whores and double the Shanxi treasury playing mahjong? As for the “Red General”–it is true that Feng spent way too much time in “mother Russia,” and since he was not banging Russian whores, you just have to think he is politically suspect.
But to be without an army, without a territory? Just too sad. Fuck, I am a bit depressed. Time to go do all the things that would make my former ally pray to his Western gods.
Today was a glorious day. Escorted by the remaining core of the JPA, I marched on Taiyuan this morning. We were prepared to go out fighting against the Commie hordes–we were the true Do or Die Corps!
As we approached the city walls, imagine our surprise to find them unguarded! The Pink Menace had abandoned Taiyuan and all of Shanxi without a fight! No doubt they had heard of my military genius and decided to scamper.
Enough blogging. Time to get loaded. Tomorrow is a big day–searching for collaborators. Time to grease up the hay chopper!
Click to see the whole image….
This campaign has been a particularly brutal one for myself and the JPA.
The JPA, my prized fighting force, is in ruins, although my most loyal soldiers remain.
Me? I have barely been able to get my drink on. Staying with local warlord Ma Bufang is killing me–he expects me to conform to his Muslim beliefs while we negotiate. Eating spicy lamb kabobs without cold beer is like executing commies without using my patented Hay Chopper Chop. Ridiculous! Not that you could get a cold beer anywhere in this part of the world–the idea of refrigeration is almost as alien to these people as bathing. These negotiations, meanwhile, are going nowhere. While he is supposedly part of the KMT, all he cares about is his clan power. Just goes to show you what being an ally of Jiang Jieshi gets you–jack shit. Although since allies of Mao Zedong get the clap from sharing those peasant wives, maybe jack shit ain’t half bad.
With this in mind I am breaking off negotiations with Ma Bufang. Before I leave Qinghai, however, I will tell him to keep an eye out for the Communists, and tell him to plant more trees.
The time has come to march on Taiyuan, there is no turning back now.
So I show up at the residence of Muslim warlord Ma Bufang last night, intending on getting him drunk so he might agree to lend me some of his soldiers to aid my retaking of Shanxi. I brought a huge bottle of qingkejiu, the local Qinghai booze.
Much to my chagrin, I quickly learned that Muslims are not fans of the sauce. Whoops.
I attempted to quickly diffuse the subject by switching topics. I told old Ma Bufang that he should seriously plant some trees to improve the daily lives of his subjects. I think he might have bought it.
Update y’all soon.
My Dearest Readers,
After enduring weeks of near starvation, subsisting solely off Yak and Yak-By-Product, the great Tibetan experiment has come to an end. Due to the machinations of the 13th Dalai Lama, myself and the remnants of the once mighty JPA were expelled from the Tibetan highlands yesterday, although to be honest this comes as a relief. Yes, I had been hoping to rally my Tibetan cousins to fight for me, but the thought of drinking any more yak butter was creating certain mental imbalances that could not be ignored. And the JPA! Perhaps if the yak meat was sliced razor thin, then dunked in a blazingly spicy broth that ensured epic laduzi–well then they might have been able to survive the thin air. As it was their health and spirits were at an all-time low.
So we left, traveling by yak-pulled carts to Xining, the capital of Qinghai. Departing Tibet I had time to ponder this great land and came to some conclusions. The first is that yaks are the stinkiest when you travel behind them. The second is that having young boys become monks, such as is the practice in Tibet, deprives them the chance for free thought. What a brilliant way to pre-indoctrinate the masses! I will look into this in the future. Finally, reincarnation is also pretty sweet. The only problem is that once you are Yan Xishan, you can only go down in the next life.
Now that I am in Xining, I am making plans to meet with Ma Bufang, the local warlord. Perhaps he will be able to assist me in my drive to Shanxi. He is a Hui, one of China’s many ethnicities. The Hui are Muslims, so I am expecting a warm welcome, complete with lots of booze. Expect an update shortly.