It’s comforting to know that our long-time best pal Uncle Sam is as concerned about us as we are about him. Why, just last week our man in Washington, Jason Yuan (袁健生), was busy delivering a handwritten message from President Ma Ying-jeou (馬英九) to one of Barack Obama’s chief advisers that eagerly congratulated the president-elect on his victory and the US democratic process.
This week it was Washington’s turn. Its man here, American Institute in Taiwan (AIT) Director Stephen Young, could hardly maintain his concentration on Thursday as he fended off an inevitable query on our rapidly deteriorating “democratic process” and the detention of former splittist-in-chief Chen Shui-bian (陳水扁), or “2630” as he is now known to his cellmates.
In fact, Young looked slightly bored by it all as he rattled off the boilerplate responses about “transparency” and “fair trial” before getting on to the most important subject of the press conference — selling stuff.
Yes, apparently we poor Taiwanese are not being allowed to eat enough US beef, and it’s all our government’s fault. It has nothing to do with the fact that US cattle ranchers can’t vouch for the sanity of their herds.
The fact that only 32 percent of the beef eaten in Taiwan is sourced stateside has irked US government officials. So much so that they have refused Taiwan’s invitations for further cross-table trade tete-a-tetes until we open the floodgates to more boatloads of American bovines.
Young sat there, looking like a rootin’ tootin’ ambassadorial Marie Antoinette as he said, in effect: “Let them eat beef.”
Never the shrinking violet, and not one to underestimate everything our starred and striped friends have done for us over the years, I have come up with an idea to help our American cousins boost sales.
My suggestion would see the Ministry of the Interior sign a deal with AIT to provide healthy, nutritious US beef dinners to all of Taiwan’s prisoners.
Maybe Washington, given the cordial relations it enjoyed with his administration, could convince Chen to give up his hunger strike/beauty diet to become the poster boy for the campaign.
I can picture it now: A-bian sitting in the detention center’s canteen in striped, prison-issue gear, holding a knife and fork and donning a 10-gallon hat and cowboy boots, topped off with a trademark Douglas Paal shit-eating grin as he looks down on a steaming, gigantic slab of Texan T-Bone.
“Geez, I was so depressed when them thar judges sent me to the detention center. But that was before I found out there was US beef on the menu,” the caption could read.
Hell, I’m betting that the aroma of a succulent, barbecued, USDA-approved 12 ounce rib eye might even be enough to tempt Yunlin County Commissioner Su Chih-fen (蘇治芬) to break her fast and tuck in.
Yeehaw, pardner! Budweisers all round.
It would also be a great propaganda coup for the government, as it would show that the Taiwanese judiciary does have a heart after all, and that it looks after every single prisoner — even the (allegedly) political ones. Just think of the boost that could give to Ma’s flagging popularity, which right now is falling faster than global stock markets.
Maybe Ma’s plummeting approval rate is the reason for the Presidential Office’s new, harder image. Anyone openly opining contrasting views on cross-strait policy these days is greeted with a “Ya Boo, sucks to you! We won the election.”
The genuine hope and optimism Ma’s election win generated among some at home and abroad has disappeared faster than the cockroach in my kitchen when I turn the light on.
Many have become so disillusioned with our new leader that they have begun shortening his title from Ma zongtong (馬總統, “President Ma”) to matong (馬統), a homonym for “toilet.”
Maybe we should have predicted this given Ma’s election slogan xiang qian xing (向前行, “move forward”) as it is almost exactly the same as the notices you see on urinals in public toilets across the nation imploring dribbling patrons to step forward so they don’t piss on the floor.
Inspiring stuff, indeed!
Now that I think about it, the inspiration for Ma’s other election slogan, ma shang hao (馬上好, a play on words that amounts to “everything will be hunky-dory the very moment Ma becomes prez”), could also have come from a staffer’s trip to the little boy’s room, because it can also be translated as “instant relief.” You know, the kind you feel after a particularly satisfying 15 minutes on the squatter the night after a whopping great big US steak.
Another noticeable hardening to take place this last week or two has been the transformation of the nation’s soft-as-tofu university students — from Dahu’s (大湖) finest to their meaner, greener cousins, the “Wild Strawberries.”
The berries started a sit-in because they were upset at the way police treated protesters during the visit to Taiwan by the Chicoms’ Association for RATS chief, Chen “don’t call me Elvis” Yunlin (陳雲林), earlier this month.
I’ll have to admit, and I’ve said it before more times than I can count: I believe the youth of today to be a bit soft. But you have to give them credit this time, because they didn’t quit when a veteran Chinese Nationalist Party (KMT) member, incensed by red carpet treatment dished out to that commie intruder, turned up at their party and did a Johnny Storm impression.
What surprised me most about these students was that they braved a couple of days of torrential rain — this from youngsters who usually walk around with their umbrellas up when it isn’t raining (here’s a tip: before putting your umbrella up, first check to see if other people are using theirs).
These last two weeks have been crazy. And you know something is clearly wrong when Republic of China flags are snapped up by Democratic Progressive Party supporters faster than Barack Obama targets at the Oklahoma Gun Club.
The Strawberries became even more pissed off after it was reported that Premier Liu Chao-shiuan (劉兆玄) on Monday told his TV interviewer during a commercial break that things would settle down and go back to normal after a couple of days.
Way to go, Mr Liu. There must be no better way to instill new strength and vitality in a group of demoralized protestors than to question their ability to last the distance.
Well … other than feeding them a big, fat, juicy slab of prime US beef.
Got something to tell Johnny? Go on, get it off your chest. Write to dearjohnny@taipeitimes.com, but be sure to put “Dear Johnny” in the subject line or he’ll mark your bouquets and brickbats as spam.
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