Cheeni (Here I) Kum!

This post was written on the flight to Shanghai. I meant to upload it earlier, but the random censorship of websites in China meant that I could not access any blog site. Till now. Sheer persistence got me into WordPress! If this chokes, I might, God forbid, have to start blogging on Rediff!

This was intended to be a travel journal of sorts. You know, the kind of stuff Ibn Batuta used to do! Ibn, old chap, clearly didn’t have to deal with the Internet Policy of PRC, though! This might, therefore, end up being merely a sporadic reporting of events.

If it does, well, shucks.

______________________________________________________________

 

Oolong, and thanks for all the pancakes

Oolong, long time ago, it used to be pretty good tea. Not quite green, certainly not black, and with what Wiki calls a ‘nuanced flavor (sic) profile”. What that means is that it should, if brewed right, be strong and slightly bitter, with an extremely subtle light and sweet after-taste.

Sic is right! Yesterday, I tasted what was claimed to be a blend of some of the finest oolongs from the Fujian province. Oolong and ooshort of it was that it tasted like cough mixture. It was bitter and proud of it; it had the arrogance of a fresh MBA – naïve and ready to change the world, yet unable to make a sandwich without a process flowchart. Marketing will say it has enough anti-oxidants to put out a fire. Quite possible, but I’d much rather eat a bucketful of sand.

Not soolong ago, however, there was a bunny called Oolong that became famous (in and Internetty sort of way) for being able to balance pancakes on her head. Her owner was this Japanese guy who was accused of being cruel to poor, defenseless (and inordinately cute) furry creatures. His argument that nobody complains when poor, defenseless (and inordinately cute) models are made to do the same thing, was dismissed as being frivolous, sexist and generally quite crap. The rabbit died sometime ago and people refused to East’er.

So, as Kurt Vonnegut would have it, it goes.

 

Wuxi-Washy (wu:shi-wa:shi)

I will be spending much of the next three months in a town called Wuxi. I have never been to China before, and, despite all that I have read, have no idea what to expect. I am deeply curious, though. Is this industrialization without a soul, detached from their wonderful culture, spreading like a cantankerous canker? Or is there a harmonious blend of old and new, a purposeful march towards a better living? More importantly, are all Chinese born with table-tennis bats in their little hands, and if so, where do they get it from?

Equally fascinating is how the Capitalist West perceives China. Is it a James Bond villain or a market to be exploited, a threat or an opportunity? ‘SWOT is it? The truth is, it might be neither – both views are probably obsolete. As consumers, for instance, we have reason to rejoice: we will never have it so good. We will gradually come to expect the unmatched quality (Mattel was an aberration, these guys can manufacture!) and price that China can provide. Many of China’s consumers, however, will be cunningly reserved for its own domestic industries. It’s a wonderful little game of cat-and-mouse, and the Chinese own all the pest-control agencies.

 

My views on Philosophy

I recently got into an argument about philosophy. I’m normally not that stupid, it was a moment of weakness. I mentioned on Yohan’s blog that I was scared of philosophers and the universe they live in. It was a brave confession, not one that I am usually prone to. Anyway, that got me thinking.

This is what I really think about philosophy. It’s on many levels, and therefore, appropriately, is a knock-knock joke:

Knock! Knock!
Who’s there?
Jacques Derrida
Jacques Derrida who?
Precisely.

Explore posts in the same categories: China, Philosophy, Tea