I’ve just returned from one of my favorite activities: speeding through Taiwan’s streets on a scooter while chewing on bone-in US beef (and rare, thanks — I like it bloody).
You see, I like to live on the wild side. I’m a risk-taker.
Now that I’ve wiped some steak juice off my chin, I can get down to the serious business of writing this column.
Yes, the brouhaha of the week was over Uncle Sam’s “mad cow special” beef. The administration of President Ma Ying-jeou (馬英九) went ahead and lifted some restrictions on US beef imports, much to the delight of the American Institute in Taiwan (AIT), the de facto US imperial outpost — er, embassy — here.
But then came the “American beef storm” (meiguo niu fengbao, 美國牛風暴), as the media here put it.
To Taiwan’s media, everything’s a “storm” or some other natural disaster of some sort — be it the “financial tsunami,” the “baseball game-fixing storm” or a real typhoon storm-storm. If the Watergate scandal had happened in Taiwan, it would be called “Watergate storm.”
So why is it raining prime US fillet? The legislature is mad that it wasn’t consulted. Opportunists say Ma’s not standing up for Taiwan’s interests, instead caving into pressure from its American dage (大哥).
And some people will just seize on any old chance to wear a cow mask and scream outside the legislature.
To be fair, some shoppers interviewed on local TV appear genuinely afraid of the stuff.
AIT’s new boss, William Stanton, attempted to calm those fears, but his attempts were, er, ham-handed (beef-fisted?). According to the Central News Agency (CNA), he said recently that the US and Taiwan should “get over the hurdle of beef.” Now there’s a vivid image.
What about “Taiwan’s making a beef-mountain out of a beef-hill?” or “We must together, hand in hand, bravely bridge the great beef divide.” Or go all Ronald Reagan: “Mr Ma, tear down this beef wall!”
Now that the Great Barrier Beef has been torn down, Taiwan’s once again a prime US meat market. And that means we’re open for all kinds of other goodies, including the stuff with bones, intestines (is this really such a big seller?) and ... spinal nerve roots?
Yes that’s right, at least according to CNA: “In 2006, the [Department of Health] agreed to allow beef imports once again, but only boneless beef from cattle younger than 30 months, produced by certified slaughterhouses and without any risky parts, such as brains, skulls, eyes, spinal nerve roots, tonsils and small intestines.”
At last — my beloved spinal-nerve-root-on-a-stick can make a comeback at the night market, right next to the pig’s-blood cake. Drool.
Stanton insists there’s no need to fear, no matter how revolting such beef products might sound. Why? Because, he says, eating US beef is safer than riding a scooter.
Has this guy ever been on a scooter in Taipei? Does he realize it’s one of the most dangerous things you can do in town aside from BASE-jumping from Taipei 101?
Seriously, if one of those little blue trucks doesn’t run you over, you’ll be blindsided by the clueless 17-year-old in a pink Hello Kitty helmet careening in from a side road without so much as a glance in the mirror while tunelessly humming a Jolin Tsai (蔡依林) hit that’s playing on his or her iPod.
The China Post’s got the score: “Citing traffic statistics here, Stanton noted that riding scooters in Taiwan is much more dangerous than eating U.S. beef products, given the fact that 1,034 people died in motorcycle accidents in 2008 alone.”
That’s more of an argument for banning scooters than one for allowing US beef. Let’s get to work on getting these death machines off the road, for God’s sake.
But at least one constituency’s tickled pink by Taiwan’s decision, according to the Grand Island Independent: Nebraska beef producers — and the politicians they donate to. Why, these poor fellas have seen all their perfectly good, bone-in beef heartlessly shunned on Taiwan’s shores for nigh on six years.
I mean, what’s a little bovine spongiform encephalopathy (BSE) between friends? And damn, I can’t even pronounce Creutzfeldt–Jakob disease, let alone be terrified by it.
Here’s one politician: “‘Exports remain a critical component to success in agriculture, and this is an important development for Nebraska and all U.S. beef producers,’ said Sen. Mike Johanns, R-Neb. ‘I appreciate the Taiwanese being willing to sit down together and come to this agreement. I look forward to bone-in beef from Nebraska being enjoyed at tables throughout Taiwan.’”
Sit down together? From what I can tell, President Ma didn’t so much as share a beef tonsil with any of his own party’s legislative caucus before charging ahead.
And as for the “Nebraska beef in every pot in Taiwan” dream, well, I think the senator’s head’s gone all funny after too much exposure to chemical fertilizer and manure (the real stuff, and the political kind). Ubiquitous hotpot beef is about as far-fetched as “stinky tofu at tables throughout Nebraska.”
But there’s more work to be done, said Nebraska Senator Ben Nelson: “The government of Taiwan’s decision to drop its ban on 30-month bone-in beef is a welcome next step as we work to eliminate restrictions on beef over 30 months in negotiations to come.”
What, next we’ve got to let in bony geezer beef too?
The paper says the deal allowing imports of bone-in beef from kiddie cattle less than 30 months old will take effect this Monday, pending a “public review” in Taiwan.
That’s a nice way of putting it. The US beef storm has already eclipsed the other scandal of the week, which also involves a US import and which is too depressing even to poke much fun at.
I’m talking about the latest game-fixing scandal to hit the Chinese Professional Baseball League, of course. Eight players named as suspects … including some from the Brother Elephants ... players willingly throwing games for cold cash ...
I’m so upset, I can’t even eat a spinal nerve root.
Got something to tell Johnny? Get it off your chest: Write to dearjohnny@taipeitimes.com, but put “Dear Johnny” in the subject line or he’ll mark your bouquets and brickbats as spam.
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