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Johnny Neihu's NewsWatch: Gray beats soft power every time

RECENTLY the Taipei Times had its Christmas Party in a little tavern off Yanji Street. Unfortunately, I had a bit of a confrontation before I went in. The bouncer looked me up and down and said: "Aren't you a bit on the northern side in the seniority stakes to be partaking in the ales and exotic foodstuffs of this establishment, sir?"

Well, the cheek. I was going to let fly with a tirade of how he ought to be employed by the Taoyuan International Airport branch of the immigration department before I decided to hold my rapidly dessicating tongue.

Instead, I whispered something to the effect of "Have a nice day, my good man, and my very best to your family," and strode inside.

You will concede, dear reader, that bars make sexual attraction regress to the age mean (if you know what I mean). So as my younger, more cosmopolitan colleagues were trashing the second floor, I got into a conversation with a pretty 20-something lady who claimed to come from the backblocks of Changhua County.

I wouldn't have paid any attention to her initially were it not for the fact that she called my name, claimed she was an avid reader, praised the paintings of artist Chen Cheng-po (陳澄波) and offered to buy me a stiff drink.

How could you say no to that?

But it seems that she'd slipped something into my glass, because the next thing I remember was coming to in a nearby alley with my trousers around my ankles and large holes in the armpits of my Hawaiian shirt. That was bizarre enough, until I discovered that my wallet hadn't been touched.

In my absence, a jolly young fellow came upstairs looking for me with a beer in his hand that he'd bought for old Johnny. Thank you, sir, for your generous words and courage in probing my less-than-salubrious colleagues about my whereabouts. Since then, I have dreamed of that pot of Guinness that you left on the table, apparently untouched.

I offer all this sordid detail to make a point: We old folk are the ones that make the moves, get the results and build a reputation -- even if we risk ending up flat on our backs in an alley.

Which is why I have to laugh when cretins in government and the legislature rave on about the need to increase the birth rate. I've already debunked the theory of pornography making people clucky; now, just this week, we saw a report in this very rag that Premier Chang Chun-hsiung (張俊雄), who at his age ought to know better, thinks offering a few thousand NT dollars a month to mothers for a couple of years is going to get them into the sack with babies on their minds ("Families, farmers get cash boost," Jan. 3, page 2).

I'm telling you, that amount of money is an insult, especially when you consider that the miserable pension I'll be receiving, which can't even cover my betel nut, cigarette and beer budget, is far more generous.

Anyway, don't these fools realize that the population can only be improved through graying? There's evidence for this everywhere.

Why, a few days ago I left a downtown bar just before dawn one morning and discovered a crew of elderly ladies and gentlemen -- even older than me -- gathered in front of the Taipei Arena McDonald's, all dressed in red tops and white pants and doing aerobics to a medley of "techno classics," if such a term makes sense.

As anyone knows who is still up at this hour, we old people rule the city. We are easily the fittest, most polite, most positive and, I dare to say, the most passionate people you'll hope to meet.

Case in point: The medley had one song with lyrics that might offend and scare younger people, but not us oldies, who've seen it all and forgotten the boring bits:

Don't want no short, short man.

Don't want no short, short man.

Eeny weeny, teeny weeny

Shriveled little short, short man.

Dear reader, next time you are stumbling home from late-night mischief in the vicinity of the Taipei Arena, I invite you to observe trim senior citizens doing pelvic thrusts and butt wiggles to these transcendent lyrics by the group 20 Fingers.

The reason why so many old folks are up at this hour exercising and conversing is there's things to be achieved in a day that young folk haven't got the gumption to appreciate, let alone do.

One is protesting. Astute readers will know that the average age of your typical political rallygoer is about 62. Of course, I'm not counting faux protests run by organized crime groups that call on young idiots in black shirts (such as after the presidential election in 2004), or crusades invented by egomaniacs that call on gullible youngsters in red shirts (such as the Shih Ming-teh (施明德) anti-corruption rallies).

No, I'm talking about your election campaign launch, your referendum drive and your expunge-CKS-memorabilia rituals. Whether you're for or against these things, if you show up then you're likely receiving a crappy pension and top it up with night watchman duty at a residential-commercial structure.

So, if you're a patriot like me, the only conclusion to reach is that compulsory military service should not be phased out, but ended now -- for young people -- and a minimum five-year compulsory term of service be introduced for people over the age of 60.

No more military service for all those glum-chic Jay Chou (周杰倫) types who aspire to nothing more than being a bitch for Sinofellating Taiwanese recording companies. Let those pansies pull on their fatigues and sleeveless vests and breakdance in front of squealing uber-virgins until they tire and retire to the KTV for a night of soulless, tone-deaf wailing.

No. Taiwan is calling on all good men and women of vintage.

I say if you're beginning to suffer from incontinence, then you're old enough to remember the bad old days and you have everything it takes to make up this nation's true last line of defense.

The Silver Rinse Brigades and the Curved Spine Special Forces: That's a military. And a bonus: You'll hear no moaning about the tragic waste of young lives. We've already lived them, baby.

With betel nut xiaojie units on the front line and septuagenarians and octogenarians manning the artillery and sniper's nests, we could finally say that Taiwan had a fighting force that could battle those Chicom bastards to the last man -- and his walking stick.

Heard or read something particularly objectionable about Taiwan? Johnny wants to know: dearjohnny@taipeitimes.com is the place to reach me, with "Dear Johnny" in the subject line.
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