Oh Shit: The Bare Sticks Are Back!

May 2, 2010

Dear Internets:

Things are rough here in the Yan Xishan camp.  Two weeks back, after a night of heavy drinking, I was curled up on my kang, most thankful that the thick coal smoke that forms Taiyuan’s natural weather patterns was keeping the sun at bay.  Just at that moment, my #6 wife asked me to let her visit her natal family, and in my still inebriated state, I allowed her to depart.  If I was in my right mind, I never would have let her go.  Not only do I rely on her for daily massages, ear cleanings, and sexual services, but her hometown is precariously close to the damn Jin-Cha-Ji base area.  Before I even finished sobering up over my mid-day bowl of noodles and vinegar, the report came back–she had been communized!  Yes, she had disappeared into the Red Zone.  I imagine she must have at least four peasant husbands.  What an abomination!

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Merry Christmas from Hoth-like Shanxi

December 20, 2009

Dearest Readers:

It is the holiday season here in Taiyuan, which means a “temporary” truce with the hated Japs, bonus rations of vinegar for the troops, and a plenty of extra performances for my favorite qinqiang opera troop.  Tonight they are staging, at my request, a “mash-up” of The White-Haired Girl and A Christmas Carol.

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This Shanzhai Shit is Getting Out of Hand

May 4, 2009

Loyal Readers:

Once again I must take off my warlord hat and put on the refined headgear of your informed social commentator.  Why, you ask?  Because this shanzhai shit is getting out of hand.  Oh, you probably figured that out from the title of this post.

First, what is shanzhai?  Shit, if you do not know, you may be beyond help.  Shanzhai literally means “mountain fortress” but thanks to the intertube world is now used to refer to knock-off goods, and can also be translated into the American slang term “ghetto.”  BTW, if you are not familiar with this word, you must be living in a cave.  A dank, stinky, Yan’an cave filled with wife sharing, pill-popping, yangge-dancing dumb-ass peasants.

Secondly, how do we know that the shanzhai craze has gotten out of hand?  My first clue was the fact that during a recent Chinese autoshow, half the cars were knockoffs of Western models.  Here is one example:

shanzhai-mini

Looks vaguely familiar, no?

My second clue was when the New York Times, the “Grey Lady” herself, starting talking about how shanzhai China has become:

Technological advances have allowed hundreds of small Chinese companies, some with as few as 10 employees, to churn out what are known here as shanzhai, or black market, cellphones, often for as little as $20 apiece.

Although shanzhai phones have only been around a few years, they already account for more than 20 percent of sales in China, which is the world’s biggest mobile phone market, according to the research firm Gartner.

Now, we all know that the NY Times is a tool in the Jiang Jieshi and Guomindang machine, so for them to call out China, in the middle of a fucking war, says something.  BTW, what the fuck is a cellphone?  I digress.  Did I mention the shanzhai soy sauce made from human hair?

Now, many of you may be wondering why I care so much about this shanzhai shit.  Well, let me level with you.  Yan Xishan has been holding down Shanxi for decades.  As I stated before, I am the real revolutionary.  I helped bring down the damn Qing dynasty!  But with this shanzhai shit, I fear in the future my memory will be overshadowed by some shanzhai revolutionary.  Sun Yat-sen, Jiang Jieshi, even (gasp) that infamous peasant fucker Zhu De.  I thus call on my Chinese brothers and sisters, let us be a little less ghetto, a little less nongcun, and a bit more Taiyuan.

YXS


JPA Recruit of the Month: Bai Ling

April 16, 2009

Gentle Reader:

How honored I am to have you back at The Yan Xishan Blog, reading up about the ongoing struggles of China’s most powerful and handsome warlord.  How deeply I regret leaving you without an update for so long.  Truly you have endured a bitter winter!  To be honest my winter has been long and cold.  Not only was Taiyuan colder than the steely glare I give to student demonstrators before demanding their executions, but I lost my favorite winter military garb to one of my US military advisors in an ill-advised bet.  Turns out that after 14 beers, I was not able to shoot an apple off of a prisoner’s head.  Don’t worry, the prisoner is still alive.  Crippled, but alive.

Well, now the sun is shining and my mood has never been better.  As such, I thought it would be a good time to introduce my readers to my newest JPA recruit, a young lass named Bai Ling.  Some of you may be familiar with Bai Ling, as she is evidently a popular actress.  She is also evidently bat-shit crazy, as I learned from one my new favorite “websites” Movieline.  As she told them:

I’m one of the best actresses. One day I will win an Oscar.

Such craziness is so rare, that I realized that she would have a place in the JPA.  In fact, she is already used to serving in the Chinese military, as she used to be in the PLA.  She will fit right in.  Plus she shares a lot in common with the other girls serving under me.  First, there is the misguided sense of fashion:

bailing

Second, there is the questionable dance skills (or skillz, if that is what the kids say these days):

My only concern is how to utilize her.  Unlike some of my other JPA ladies, I cannot imagine her working directly under me.  I mean, I wouldn’t fuck her with Zhu De’s dick, and if you know Zhu De, you know he is a peasant fucker, so you do the math.  Plus, what kind of leader would get with a crappy actress? Oh yeah, the kind that like to hang out in caves and pop sleeping pills.

Her ability to delude herself seems promising, and it seems white dudes like to bang her… maybe I will tell her that she can serve China by fucking the US military advisor that took my coat.  I bet that coat would look great with genital warts.

YXS


#4 Most Impressive Dynasty: The Tang

February 8, 2009

Gentle Readers:

Last night, gazing over the beautiful Taiyuan skyline as the sun set to the west of my fortified palace, watching the sun dip below the fragrant haze created by my coal mines, my mind wandered and I began to ponder some of the big questions that have been on my mind since I was a young lad.  Who or what created us?   Was Hong Xiuquan fucking crazy, or was he actually bat-shit crazy?  Why is it that I was destined for greatness, while peasants are destined to farm using their own shit as fertilizer?  Who put that stick up Jiang Jieshi’s ass?  Does Mao Zedong realize that with his accent, he sounds like a little bitch?

As I pondered my role in this world, and my status as a great Chinese leader (and the #1 Chinese thinker), this led me to a new line of inquiry: What is it that defines us as Chinese?  Not in terms of nationality, as this is a simple question.  In terms of nation, China refers to the great Han race and all those minorities lucky enough to be crushed by our superior numbers and hot pot technology.  No, as I pondered the meaning of “Chinese,” I was reflecting on the role of culture.

Now, when I was a young man, Chinese culture was a simple matter.  Drink tea, quote Zhu Xi whenever possible, eat rice, cripple your daughter by binding her feet, and repeat until you croak and your many sons mourn you for three years.  But within my lifetime, so much has changed!  Sure, we still got the rice thing, but nowadays Zhu Xi is out, and Ibsen is in.  And if you bind your daughter’s feet, you are considered a serious asshole.  A few decades ago, if you could not freely pontificate about the “investigation of things” while your womenfolk hobbled about within the seclusion of your estate, you would not be considered Chinese.  These days?  So much has changed!

Now, of course I am thankful for this change.  I mean, I rule Shanxi, so the whole end of the imperial era thing has kind of worked out for me.  Plus, I like a real active sex partner, and women with bound feet really cannot do some of the real freaky shit that I enjoy.  Yes, I know, this makes me a feminist, don’t remind me.  But if we cannot take Chinese culture and fossilize it, how can we ever be sure how to separate the great Chinese from the dirty, stinky, and typically hairy barbarian?  After worrying about this for a few hours, I finally relaxed, thanks to two things.  First was a stiff fenjiu cocktail, second was my memories of the #4 dynasty of all time, the great Tang dynasty!

tang-dynasty-map1

The Tang was truly a great time.  First, as you can see, this was a large dynasty, one that extended a Chinese bitch slap all the way into Inner Asia along the Silk Road.  But what really appeals to me about the Tang was that this was a different China, one would have been unrecognizable to my parents and their generation.  That punk Zhu Xi had not yet put the Neo in Neo-Confucianism.  Women did not yet bind their feet, which meant when you sexed up Yang Guifei, she could do all your favorite positions!  Perhaps most importantly, China was open to other cultures and ideologies–Confucianism was actually taking a back seat to Buddhism!  Crazy.  But if China was culturally so different during one of its greatest eras (specifically, the #4 era ever), then China can change and grow!   This is great news for my plan to replace tea drinking with bourbon guzzling.

Now, the Tang is often considered to be the #1 dynasty of all time.  Close, but not quite.  How can we overlook the fact that the Tang was breifly usurped by the only female emperor in Chinese history?  Thanks to the so-called Empress Wu, the Tang has a black eye that cannot be covered up.  Good thing that I am a feminist, because I can come out and say what all Chinese men know, even us feminists: Women cannot rule All Under Heaven!   All Under My Pants, yes, but not All Under Heaven.

YXS


Great Men of Shanxi: Judge Dee

July 22, 2008

Ah, what a busy summer it has been!  I have been unable to update you, my dear reader, with the regularity you must surely crave, but here is a quick recap:  It has been most horribly hot here in Taiyuan, and not even my wives constant fanning and continuous service from my robotics division has been enough to keep me cool.  The heat, I must admit, has gone to my head on several occasions.  Why, just last week I flew off into a rage and had 25 communists executed via hay chopper, only to later learn they their Lu Xun study group was actually a study group and not a cover for anti-Yan Xishan activities.  Whoops!  Speaking of the dreaded Pink Threat, the JPA has been busy in that regard too.  But after months of constant battles, the Commies have finally retreated to Yan’an to share their peasant wives and pop sleeping pills.  Can final victory be just around the corner?  Stay tuned my friends.

With the lull in fighting, I have decided to educate you, loyal reader, about the greatness of Shanxi.  What’s that you say?  You already know that since I hail from this province, it must be great?  How true.  But here is what you do not know–I am not the only great man to be born from the warm bosom of Shanxi.  No, Shanxi has a long tradition of producing the finest men in China (which of course means we are the finest men in the world!).  To wit, please meet my Shanxi brother, Judge Dee–a native of Taiyuan:

Now, Judge Dee (real name Di Renjie) was an official during the Tang Dynasty.  Well, actually he served under Empress Wu’s Zhou Dynasty, but I would rather not dwell on that fact.  I mean, serving a female ruler?  Not my style.  But my boy Renjie, despite this flaw, was all man.  He was known for laying down justice, Chinese style.  Which is to say he tortured anyone he pleased, then afterwords had a few drinks and and a delicious meal.  And when I say torture, I mean torture!  Talking back to the judge?  How about 100 lashes of the heavy bamboo?  Looking suspicious?  That will be 40 lashes with the whip against your bare back. Don’t want to confess even though I know you must be guilty?  How about I slowly turn your ankles into jelly until you admit I am right about everything?

And while he served a woman, Judge Dee had what my General Bragg, my US military advisor, would call a “strong pimp hand.”  Check out his interrogation of a beautiful-yet-murderous woman:

Who knew justice could be so wonderfully raunchy?  Nowadays, thanks to brainwahsed Westernized liberals like Song Qingling, we are supposed to pretend in things like not torturing people, but this is not the Shanxi way.  Hell, it is not even the Chinese way!  Here we have a simple philosophy about justice: No evidence?  No problem!

With such a great heritage, is it any wonder that Shanxi has produced a Yan Xishan?

YXS