First it was going to happen, and then it wasn't going to happen until later, then it did happen for a bit, and now it's canceled -- but only for now. The annual Ho-Hai-Yan beachside brouhaha (海洋音樂祭2005) got off to a start at Fulong (福隆) on Wednesday, two weeks after the original scheduled date and despite a host of problems, the last of which was a thundershower, the precursor of another typhoon.
Organizers were forced to cancel performances for last night and tonight. And as of press time last night, the official word was "wait and see" about shows scheduled for tomorrow and Sunday.
At least a fortunate few made it out on Wednesday for some five hours of live music that was originally supposed to last five days. A late afternoon rainstorm threatened to have the modest crowd head for home, but by 6pm, the rain had subsided, the bands had plugged in and the beach was booming.
PHOTO: TAIPEI TIMES
The beach itself figured prominently in the proceedings even before the party began. Long Taipei County's most popular beach, Fulong has in recent years been the site of substantial development built to accommodate weekend crowds. The scene here changed last year when the beach disappeared as a result of tidal changes caused by the construction of a wharf to service the Fourth Nuclear Power Plant.
When organizers began planning this year's Fulong festival, there wasn't much of a beach on which to put it. Indeed, the bridge that is the site's centerpiece led out to open water only weeks ago, according to organizers.
But any thought Wednesday night's partygoers might have had of wading out to the man-made peninsula was cut short at the tape lining the water's edge and by the guards standing sentry to prevent any would-be wading.
One concertgoer said that police were being overzealous and mentioned another beach party she attended at Baishawan two weeks ago, where police had also cordoned off the water.
"I don't understand the point of having [concerts and parties] at the beach if the police won't let you even get your feet wet," she said.
Later a voice announced that MC Hotdog was about to play and partygoers stopped messing about in the sand and sidled up to the front of the Big Blue stage.
Anyone who wasn't on their feet for his first number was for his second, I Love Taiwanese Girls (
"Why isn't Da Zhi more popular than MC Hotdog?" was one comment overheard. "He's so cool."
"He's so song!" was her friend's answer. Maybe a bit too "crude."
That's never stopped a hip-hop artist before.
Back on the main beach, a laundry list of smaller-name bands did their best to battle against the cacophony of sound coming from the main stage. With only their friends and family to block the noise, it was a losing battle.
Despite the first typhoon that postponed the festival, most of the international headliners were still able to play on the new dates. Only Canadian rapper Peaches had to bow out. Organizers made no mention of again rescheduling international acts, including Vincent Gallo, Melissa auf der Maur, Japan's Boom Boom Satellites, Baseball from Australia and Black Rebel Motorcycle Club from the US.
Visit http://hohaiyan.com/2005.htm for the latest on cancellations and rescheduling.
Oct. 27 to Nov. 2 Over a breakfast of soymilk and fried dough costing less than NT$400, seven officials and engineers agreed on a NT$400 million plan — unaware that it would mark the beginning of Taiwan’s semiconductor empire. It was a cold February morning in 1974. Gathered at the unassuming shop were Economics minister Sun Yun-hsuan (孫運璿), director-general of Transportation and Communications Kao Yu-shu (高玉樹), Industrial Technology Research Institute (ITRI) president Wang Chao-chen (王兆振), Telecommunications Laboratories director Kang Pao-huang (康寶煌), Executive Yuan secretary-general Fei Hua (費驊), director-general of Telecommunications Fang Hsien-chi (方賢齊) and Radio Corporation of America (RCA) Laboratories director Pan
The consensus on the Chinese Nationalist Party (KMT) chair race is that Cheng Li-wun (鄭麗文) ran a populist, ideological back-to-basics campaign and soundly defeated former Taipei mayor Hau Lung-bin (郝龍斌), the candidate backed by the big institutional players. Cheng tapped into a wave of popular enthusiasm within the KMT, while the institutional players’ get-out-the-vote abilities fell flat, suggesting their power has weakened significantly. Yet, a closer look at the race paints a more complicated picture, raising questions about some analysts’ conclusions, including my own. TURNOUT Here is a surprising statistic: Turnout was 130,678, or 39.46 percent of the 331,145 eligible party
The classic warmth of a good old-fashioned izakaya beckons you in, all cozy nooks and dark wood finishes, as tables order a third round and waiters sling tapas-sized bites and assorted — sometimes unidentifiable — skewered meats. But there’s a romantic hush about this Ximending (西門町) hotspot, with cocktails savored, plating elegant and never rushed and daters and diners lit by candlelight and chandelier. Each chair is mismatched and the assorted tables appear to be the fanciest picks from a nearby flea market. A naked sewing mannequin stands in a dimly lit corner, adorned with antique mirrors and draped foliage
The election of Cheng Li-wun (鄭麗文) as chair of the Chinese Nationalist Party (KMT) marked a triumphant return of pride in the “Chinese” in the party name. Cheng wants Taiwanese to be proud to call themselves Chinese again. The unambiguous winner was a return to the KMT ideology that formed in the early 2000s under then chairman Lien Chan (連戰) and president Ma Ying-jeou (馬英九) put into practice as far as he could, until ultimately thwarted by hundreds of thousands of protestors thronging the streets in what became known as the Sunflower movement in 2014. Cheng is an unambiguous Chinese ethnonationalist,