After several weeks of reheated campaign-mania and the indictment of half the population of Taoyuan for vote-buying, I'm so wound up for the presidential election I could hurl a Big Mac faster than Wang "Four McMillion" Chien-ming (王建民) himself.
The best part is watching real news take a back seat to the frenzy of desperate allegations about secret green cards and Martial Law-era spooks.
The creative juices that oozed out in the run-up to the legislative elections -- when the pan-blue camp exposed the Democratic Progressive Party's (DPP) evil plot to kill its own presidential candidate and reap the sympathy vote -- were fairly impressive.
But now, with gossip over whether Chinese Nationalist Party (KMT) presidential candidate Ma Ying-jeou's (
Can we at least spice it all up by labeling Ma Yi-nan (馬以南) "Big Sister Ma the Dope Peddler?"
Or better yet, how about some fresh scandals? Frankie (
How about this instead: On Wednesday, Singapore news Web site STNN reported that KMT Honorary Stone Age Relic Lien Chan's (
None of this has anything to do with Frankie or Ma, but there are three points to remember:
1. Minor details don't bother campaign staffers. Election season is a time to smash the fetters of good sense.
2. Sean didn't just get stuck in a lift -- he nearly died, because the elevator was apparently airtight (who thought of that brilliant feature?). The potential for conspiracy theories is tremendous.
3. There's a gold mine of meaningless nationalist symbolism here. Forget the shock and betrayal you felt when you heard that devoted foreign-name disser Ma Ying-jeou was concealing a 1970s English name ("Mark"). Anyone can make a mistake under the influence of disco.
The upshot: Sean Lien is indulging in the vile practice of soiling newborn babes with foreign monikers. He might as well burn his passport and emigrate now. If he wanted to commemorate his near-death experience, the patriotic thing to do would have been to name his son Lien Kuai-ssu (
But let's not waste any more breath on that.
If there's anything I love more than elections, it's riddles, so here's one for my readers that not even supernationalist kung fu star Vladimir Putin could solve: What "C" has its own president, passes its own laws, issues its own currency and taxes its own citizens?
The answer is anything but obvious -- at least if it's Taiwan you're referring to. So do forgive Vlad if he let the "C" word slip at his annual news conference on Feb. 14:
"We are turning confidently into one of the world's economic leaders ... The results that Russia is showing in terms of stocks and assets growth has been achieved by just a very limited number of countries in the past 20 years -- Taiwan, Malaysia, Singapore, partly China."
Now, Putin presents himself as a man of principle, a champion of democracy, a friend of the little man.
But you and I know him better as that guy who foams at the mouth and falls into convulsions at the mere mention of Kosovo, let alone Chechnya.
Plenty of cause, then, to be skeptical over the Globe and Mail's translation. But after contacting a friend's Russian bride, I'm assured that the wording is correct.
And hey, this isn't an Agence France-Presse journalist in Taiwan, so there's probably some chance of accuracy.
So surprise, surprise. Even rabid anti-splittists get caught up by reality now and then.
Putin can take comfort, however, in knowing that he's no clumsier than his Chinese comrades. A long overdue commendation goes to Xu Bodong (徐博東), the head of China's Taiwan Research Institute, for a similar blunder last May.
"Chen Shui-bian (陳水扁) only knows how to electioneer and doesn't know how to run the country," Xu told a Bloomberg reporter before adding: "Of course, Taiwan is not a country, but it's clear he's a bad administrator."
Kudos to Xu -- that is, if he hasn't been summarily executed, his organs hocked on eBay and his assorted surplus bits recycled into dumplings for the Japanese market.
It's clear from all this that there's some confusion out there concerning Taiwan's international status -- even among the nation's staunchest opponents.
It would seem up to us Taiwanese to set matters straight. Unfortunately, watching "Taiwan Province" license plates cruise the roads all day, I'm sometimes so befuddled I send letters to the UN asking them to recognize my mutt Punkspleen.
That's where our friendly government agencies come in. I'm much clearer now that we've buried the dangwai (
And last week, genius was back at the drawing board to rid our mouths of the evil that lurks within. The Ministry of Education said that guoyu (國語) -- that language shoved down our throats just as we were finally learning how to say "Watashi ha nihonjin desu" -- will be replaced by huayu (華語).
Let's get this straight: Toss out the term containing the word "nation" and replace it with a word for "China"?
Thanks for clearing that up.
But if there's any government arm that can top our sterling education officials, it's our beacon to the outside world, the Government Information Office.
Surfing the Web this week, I ran across yet more evidence that we can't pay these people too little: a little GIO creation entitled "A Brief History of Taiwan," composed by only the nation's finest -- an Academia Sinica researcher and NTU professor.
The Web site compresses Taiwanese history into 10 neat English-language chapters, posted online for Jimmy Waiguoren's convenience.
And it even comes with a conclusion.
So, what should Jimmy know about Taiwan? Well, as you would imagine, the text lavishes ample praise on my beloved country:
"First and foremost," it writes, "Taiwan is by nature an island of misfortune."
Holy Matsu, this is what we tell foreigners? I'm starting to understand why the nation's tourist industry never took off.
We may have our share of misfortune, but there's nothing "natural" about organized crime kingpin turned pan-blue legislator Yen Ching-piao (顏清標), who got 11 years in jail (appeal pending) for spending millions of NT dollars in Taichung County funds at hostess bars (note to Yen: that's what special allowance funds are for).
And while the Web site does brag a little about progress in politics and social issues, it warns:
"There is still a hidden social illness that needs to be eliminated, however, which is Taiwan's national identity."
Illness? Excellent. Explaining our identity crisis to foreigners may not be easy, but making Taiwanese consciousness sound like a bout of the plague is a start.
And it just gets better:
"How this deep-rooted social illness can be eliminated and a harmonious society be created will test the wisdom and abilities of Taiwan's people in the years to come."
Sounds like GIO Duracell Bunny Shieh Jhy-wey (
But let's be fair. The GIO is far from the only agency with that special flair for creative writing.
I'll leave my readers this week to ponder a report by the Central News Agency (CNA), which described a joyous scene in Pristina after the hours-old nation of Kosovo received Taiwan's heartfelt congratulations and official recognition:
"Everywhere they went, Taiwanese on the streets of the capital Pristina were met with warm hugs and a big thumbs-up as an expression of [the Kosovars'] gratitude."
Taiwanese filling the streets of Pristina? The mind boggles.
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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