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Johnny Neihu's NewsWatch: Election 2008: Attack ad attack!

IT'S GETTING QUIETER around the old Neihu homestead these days. Me, Cathy Pacific and mutt Punkspleen haven't been such a calm, happy little clan for years. The reason?

The Neihu household has officially banned TV until the damn elections are over. That executive decision was made around 10:30pm on Thursday, when Punkspleen started foaming at the mouth, going into convulsions and losing critical bladder functions.

Moments before, I'd hurled a bottle of Whisby at the squawk-box, missing it (sadly, the old Neihu aim ain't what it used to be) and instead spraying shards of glass and Whisby droplets over Cathy's complete Carpenters collection.

Before our happy Neihu home could become another sad statistic -- or the subject of a page 3 brief in this newspaper ("Enraged columnist kills dog, wife, self") -- the boob tube went off. For the duration.

Unfortunately, by then we'd absorbed such a barrage of advertising that we were unable to fight off the onset of an authentically Taiwanese political post-traumatic stress disorder.

Oolong tea is helping -- somewhat.

Where to begin? The trigger for my meltdown, if memory serves, was the Chinese Nationalist Party (KMT) ad featuring a typical Taiwanese 20-something xiaojie sporting a jacket over a pink and white Evel Knievel T-shirt.

First of all, how dare the blues drag the Knievel -- now racing up that great stunt ramp in the sky -- into Taiwanese politics. Is nothing sacred?

The girl was jabbering away with an older woman, who was complaining about how complicated the vote was going to be (in case you're reading nothing in today's paper but my rant, today we cast four ballots: one for a candidate, one for a party and one each for Democratic Progressive Party (DPP) and KMT-sponsored referendums). The ad's message: Give the referendums a pass.

Even for Taiwanese politics, that has to be a new benchmark for absurdity. Can you imagine it: producing a slick, expensive TV ad -- transparently targeting the Hoklo-huffin' laobaixing (老百姓) -- that tells punters not to cast a ballot in the referendum that your own damn party proposed?

Then there was KMT Chairman Wu Poh-hsiung (吳伯雄) warning of an apocalypse if every single KMT supporter doesn't come out and vote.

"Don't let [President] Chen Shui-bian (陳水扁) have his way," he intones as the soundtrack from The Hunt For Red October (or something) plays in the background. That message was reinforced by newspaper ads in the Apple Daily and the China Times asking: "Are you willing to see such a corrupt and incompetent man as him manipulate Taiwan again? ... Use your vote to destroy Chen Shui-bian's hidden agenda."

Not that the DPP's got a much more positive message. One of their ads showed a series of Martial Law era abuses and KMT hijinks in the legislature before footage of the "red army" running amok at 2006 National Day celebrations (good footage, that). Then a shot of honorary KMT doormat Lien Chan (連戰) rubbing palms with Chicom-in-Chief Hu Jintao (胡錦濤).

And then ... missiles firing into the sky.

Huh? How'd they make the jump from lam pa licking in Beijing to holy hell raining down on Taiwan? It's like a shameless copy of Lyndon Johnson's infamous 1964 "Daisy" ad, predicting nuclear Armageddon if US voters elected rival Barry Goldwater. Except less logical.

But the booby prize for most embarrassing ad may have to go to former president Lee Teng-hui (李登輝), mumbling and singing tunelessly to himself while sitting in an empty church.

What genius at Taiwan Solidarity Union headquarters thought up this concept? Lee should have that person dropped naked into a vat of boiling oamisua.

Still, an old guy babbling to himself in an empty room is as good a description as any of the less-than-influential Lee these days. But that's hardly the idea his own party should be emphasizing in expensive TV ads. Party hacks claimed the ad calls to mind Marlon Brando in The Godfather; I'd say it's more an extra from a play by Samuel Beckett.

Or, especially when he shakes his shaky fist and furrows his brow, Jack Nicholson in The Pledge -- after he's gone insane.

A close second is the ad featuring the DPP's Wang Shih-cheng (王世堅), in which he loses his marbles and berates then Taipei mayor Ma Ying-jeou (馬英九) on the floor of the Taipei City Council as his DPP insignia flaps madly on his sleeve. Must be a KMT ad to drive home what a boorish, obnoxious loudmouth Wang is, right? Hardly. At the end comes the punch line: Vote for Wang.

A longer version of the same ad is even more cringe-inducing, showing Wang revisiting his "I play the violin and am cultured" schtick, this time in front of a chamber orchestra, before resuming his anti-Ma tirade.

Then, in the "only in Taiwan" category, we have the DPP ad in which tourists take a "KMT stolen assets tour"of Taipei City -- complete with the mandatory "V" for ke'ai signs for the cameras, and breathless commentary. "Forrow me, forrow me" the guide says as the tourists descend on the China Youth Corps activity center in Jiantan (劍潭) for happy snaps and more "V" signs.

The DPP's Tsai Trong-rong (蔡同榮) appeals to you in a TV ad to vote for him personally, even though that isn't possible because he's a legislator-at-large candidate. But this time (praise Matsu) at least he keeps his shirt on instead of flexing his bodybuilder's pecs.

Honorable mention goes to the DPP's Yu Tien (余天), the oily singer with the toupee and the 'tache who's running for a Taipei County seat. On Thursday night he held a campaign rally in Sanchong (三重) with a cameo from wife Lee Ya-ping (李亞萍) -- doubled-over in either pain or emotion (it wasn't clear) -- who wept and howled for more votes before clambering off the stage, leaving Yu and supporters in tears. Meanwhile, one grizzly old lady -- wrapped like a newborn baby to avoid the chill -- looked down from the stage without any emotion. Maybe she was dead.

None of this was technically an ad, but the backdrop of the whole scene was a giant poster of Yu with outstretched hands, striking a pose that was half Jesus Christ and half Hong Kong soft porn stud Elvis Tsui (徐錦江).

Gandehao!

Thus was all the heartstring-tugging and fear-mongering of a campaign entirely devoid of substance. But into this barren wasteland fearlessly rode the Non-Partisan Solidarity Union's Liu Yi-ju (劉憶如). You may not agree with her plans, but at least you know from her ads what they are.

A detailed list covers everything from lifting the China-bound investment cap to some sort of debt restructuring plan I'll confess I'm just not smart enough to figure out.

OK, so the ads may only be intelligible to freaks of nature, or those with an advanced degree in finance (like I said, freaks of nature). And sure, their effect may be the political equivalent of a horse tranquilizer. But hats off to her for at least saying what she actually wants to do in the new, Amazing Shrunken Lifayuan.

In fact, after the neck vein-bulging effects of all the other ads, scanning Liu's long list of bullet points four or five times was the only way I could get to sleep on Thursday night. And the rest of the China Daily turned out to be quite handy for mopping up mutt tinkle.

Sweet dreams, Punkspleen.

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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