Blogs » Society » A Security Guard Chose Not To Intervene While A 19-Year-Old Murdered 16-Year-Old Microblogger Lai Zengyutong
Blogs » Society » A Security Guard Chose Not To Intervene While A 19-Year-Old Murdered 16-Year-Old Microblogger Lai Zengyutong |
- A Security Guard Chose Not To Intervene While A 19-Year-Old Murdered 16-Year-Old Microblogger Lai Zengyutong
- Hong Kong Names Theater “Xiqu Center,” Local Residents Ask What The Hell?
- Fish from Diaoyu Islands available to try in Shanghai
- Friday Night Musical Outro: Omnipotent Youth Society – Kill That Man From Shijiazhuang
- North Korea is in a huff because Chinese media reported that Kim Jong-un had plastic surgery
- Presented By:
- Members of 'sex video extortion ring' arrested in Chongqing, 10 officials sacked
- Friday Links: Bo Xilai may face severe penalties, Beijing’s abandoned neighborhoods, and pictures of China circa 1950s
- Shanghai maintains position as China's best city (for life expectancy)
- Wastelands of Beijing
- The ex-bank chief with 4 hukou and 1 billion yuan property holdings
- More signs that Bo Xilai may face the death penalty (UPDATE: Trial on Monday?)
- Adult Film Star Diana Pang Enters Chinese Politics, Is Instantly Popular
- The Call-in Show
- Porn star Peng Dan degrading herself, getting involved in Chinese politics
- L'Avenue: A Good Neighborhood Wine Spot
- Banned Chinese author Yan Lianke shortlisted for Man Booker International Prize 2013
- People Are Now Coping With Beijing’s Pollution By Building Giant Domes
- Foxconn claims reports of worker strike in Beijing are 'completely inaccurate'
- Questlove @ Unïco
| Posted: 25 Jan 2013 09:37 PM PST We have an update to the disturbing story of a murdered 16-year-old girl who might have been tracked down via her Sina Weibo posts. If you haven't been following, here's the quick summary: high school student Lai Zengyutong disappeared on January 12 in Shenzhen and was found dead the next day in an empty shop. (Her name has also appeared as "Laiceng Yutong" and "Tsang Yue Laitong," along with misspelled variations.) Her killer, 19-year-old Meng Shuai, was apprehended on January 21, with netizens following the story every step of the way and fervently discussing online. "Lai's death has also elicited a torrent of concern for the safety of Weibo microbloggers, particularly young women who might not understand the risks involved in posting personal content online," wrote Alexander Nasr on Tea Leaf Nation. The latest details come via Sina – first, Meng has denied that he tracked down Lai via Weibo, according to Shenzhen TV:
This probably isn't a detail that will make anyone feel better about the world, and neither is this next part:
Wide are the cracks through which the disenfranchised might slip. Unrelated to all that, there's this final detail buried in the tail end of the article:
Was the guard paralyzed by the Genovese syndrome? "Diffusion of responsibility," it's called, but in this case, who was he thinking the buck would pass to? Alas, it strikes me as plain laziness, and it might have cost a girl her life. Again, no reason to feel better about the world. |
| Hong Kong Names Theater “Xiqu Center,” Local Residents Ask What The Hell? Posted: 25 Jan 2013 06:00 PM PST The Hong Kong government has recently been criticized by Internet users for using a Putonghua (common tongue Mandarin) term in its new Chinese opera theater's English name. Instead of giving it an actual English or even Cantonese name, the new facility is simply the Xiqu Centre (戏曲中心). The government explains that Chinese opera is different from Western opera, so "Xiqu" is used to differentiate itself. Yes, we know everything in China is different from the West. If we follow the Hong Kong (or Xianggang?) government's concept, Chinese medicines should be renamed "zhongyao" (中药), as Chinese and Western medicines are not the same. There are a few more examples: mooncake as "yuebing" (月饼), Chinese martial arts as "wushu" (武术), democracy as "minzhu" (民主), as the Beijing government has its own interpretation of democracy with Chinese characteristics. And how can we forget the ruling party? Propaganda officials should start forcing foreign media to refer to the party as "zhongguo gongchandang" to distinguish it from other (existing) communist parties in the world. English translations should be simple, clear, and in proper English. "Chinese opera" is easy to understand, but Xiqu — what? You can't even pronounce it properly without learning Mandarin. And if foreigners can't pronounce it, how does the Chinese government expect to promote the art to the rest of the world? No wonder the Chinese often claim that foreigners don't understand them. Sometimes, they really don't, literally. (Image via) |
| Fish from Diaoyu Islands available to try in Shanghai Posted: 25 Jan 2013 04:43 PM PST  Chinese fisherman are now fishing undisturbed around the Diaoyu Islands, and apparently Diaoyu Island waters are as teeming with seafood as they are with political shenanigans. Four thousand kilos of deep-sea fish from the Diaoyu Islands arrived in Shanghai two days ago and are available to try at the Shanghai Everbright Convention and Exhibition Center starting today. [ more › ]        |
| Friday Night Musical Outro: Omnipotent Youth Society – Kill That Man From Shijiazhuang Posted: 25 Jan 2013 07:30 AM PST Here's a bit of music news followed by something you can do for Chinese rock. The media-starved Chinese indie scene got a huge push on Sina Weibo this week when blogger Han Han found time between his car racing and corporate whoring to plug Shijiazhuang's well-respected indie quartet Omnipotent Youth Society. This is a big Weibo ripple considering Han has over 11 million followers and rarely posts (only 57). Han, who unfortunately once fancied himself a crooner, recommended the songs Kill that Man from Shijiazhuang and Qinhuangdao from OYS's self-titled LP (2010). For the latter he wrote the lyrics in calligraphy and posted:
Much like Han's elliptical writings (or his ghostwriters', depending on who you ask), both the songs tell of the dangers of idealism, lyrics which Han dedicates to "all those young people still crossing those waters" (also lyrics from Qinhuangdao). Curious to know what a 11-million-strong Weibo post can do for a band, we contacted OYS, who was surprisingly not willing to talk about it. We'll keep you updated. Although the English-language music blogs have already done their part, one last push for pianist/composer Liang Heping's benefit concert at Beijing's Yugong Yishan tomorrow is in order (8 pm, 150 yuan at the door), not only because of the winning lineup (includes He Yong, Second Hand Rose, Tomahawk, Liquid Oxygen Can, Thin Man, Ma Tiao), but it's also a chance to help one of Chinese rock's progenitors cover medical costs. Late last June, Liang was injured off-roading in Inner Mongolia, resulting in partial paralysis of his arms, leaving him not only unable to play as before but also stuck with huge medical bills. As China rock scribe Jon Campbell pointed out, Liang was an instrumental player in rocker Cui Jian's early years, and also produced He Yong's "Garbage Dump," which is essential 90s Chinese rock listening: That's Liang on the keys (5:40, don't blink) during a 1994 Hong Kong performance of "Bell and Drum Tower." He Yong is paying it forward now by organizing the concert, which will also include an auction of items donated by Chinese rock royalty, including Xie Tian Xiao (who finally has a new album coming out March 30). All proceeds go straight to Liang. James Tiscione writes about music for That's Beijing. |
| North Korea is in a huff because Chinese media reported that Kim Jong-un had plastic surgery Posted: 25 Jan 2013 05:00 AM PST  North Korea's state news agency has published a lengthy rebuttal to a Shenzhen TV report which claimed that tubby dictator Kim Jong-un has had plastic surgery (which would explain how he came to be so damn attractive). [ more › ]  |
| Posted: 25 Jan 2013 05:00 AM PST  |
| Members of 'sex video extortion ring' arrested in Chongqing, 10 officials sacked Posted: 25 Jan 2013 04:00 AM PST |
| Posted: 25 Jan 2013 04:54 AM PST
Happy early Australia Day! Links. How severe? Stay tuned. "Former Chinese Communist Party star Bo Xilai could be subject to severe punishment, according to a senior party official, as China's new leaders face increasing public pressure to clamp down on corruption." (WSJ) Foxconn strike in Beijing? "Around 1,000 workers at a Beijing factory belonging to Foxconn, maker of Apple's iPhone, walked out this week amid a dispute over end-of-year holiday privileges and bonuses, a company manager said on Wednesday." (Radio Free Asia) Corollary: "After reports of more than a thousand workers going on strike at a Beijing factory surfaced earlier this week, Foxconn has denied that the alleged incident took place and dismissed them as 'without foundation and completely inaccurate.' // Foxconn did confirm that it had hosted a town hall meeting with many of its employees to discuss 'matters relating to salary and bonuses,' but it said there was no disruption to its operations." (The Next Web) "Wastelands of Beijing." "This article is a tour through some of the more spectacular wastelands of contemporary Beijing, places that will be developed into something entirely different at some point in the future when the interest groups that control the land and construction finally make a deal they can live with." (Robert Foyle Hunwick, Danwei) That Chongqing outfit that busted a Chinese official by secretly filming a sex tape? They're busted, too. "Chinese police in the inland port city of Chongqing have busted a ring that extorted local officials with secretly-filmed video of their encounters with young women, the state-run Xinhua news agency said on Thursday." (Reuters) At least he didn't hurt anyone. "A man was arrested for deliberately destroying a luxury car worth almost 10 million yuan during a test drive on January 15 at Panzhihua in Sichuan, according to media reports. // Zhou Wei (not his real name), 26, hit the car with a metal object used by cleaners when he arrived at the home of his former-mother-in-law. He had taken the expensive vehicle for a test-drive." (SCMP) China in twelve minutes interlude: Finally… David Weritime talk at Harvard: "Redefining the Quote: Using the Social Web to Gauge Grassroots Sentiment in China." (Tea Leaf Nation) PinYin Pal – Scrabble with pinyin. (Sinosplice) Jealous: Hong Kong has the world's fastest peak Internet speed. (SCMP) Leehom Wang tries pay-to-download music model. (Tech in Asia)
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| Shanghai maintains position as China's best city (for life expectancy) Posted: 25 Jan 2013 03:00 AM PST |
| Posted: 25 Jan 2013 06:32 AM PST  About 20 km outside Beijing, tourists sitting in tour buses from Beijing north-eastwards towards the Badaling section of the Great Wall can spot the remains of an eerie shell of a castle some distance from the expressway. With concrete spires sticking out above dusty corn fields, the castle remains as a relic of the grandiose ideas of men who have long since passed through the grinding mill of elite politics, corruption and prison in China. All around Beijing, such architectural artefacts of of previous decades remain, decayed and going to ruin. This article is a tour through some of the more spectacular wastelands of contemporary Beijing, places that will be developed into something entirely different at some point in the future when the interest groups that control the land and construction finally make a deal they can live with. Shougang A contented worker needed never want for anything in Shougang. The plant had its own apartment complexes, dining halls, schools, hospitals, public bathhouses, cinemas, even a newspaper – Shougang Daily, which regaled readers with stories of steel output in its triumphalist headlines; on the last day of production at the old plant, the paper published a special commemorative edition: 'Steel was as important as food in newborn China' ran the nostalgic headline. For many years indeed, Shougang's steel fed the capital's economy and virtually the entire district that surrounded the factory. "The mill had everything," one 52-year-old former employee told the Global Times. "We wouldn't leave for months at a time." Guan Xiaomeng, 29, grew up there. "My fondest memory was the canteens," she recalls. "Because I was about 10 or 12 when I was there, I especially liked the ice creams… That canteen used to sell its own brand of ice-cream, just called 'Shougang Ice Cream', which couldn't be bought anywhere else. Growing up there was generally pretty sweet… It felt a bit like living in the sort of traditional courtyard that you see on TV." By the late twentieth-century, the Shougang plant was losing its lustre: loal residents were less willing to put up with constant, virulent pollution and all-pervading soot. In 2001, when Beijing was awarded the hosting rights for the 29th Olympic Games, there were rising public concerns over pollution, quality of life and water use (the mill required 50 million cubic meters of water annually to run). A reputation as an industrial center was no longer something to be proud of. The Party had invited a global sports circus to witness its coming-out, and Shougang was a guest that had overstayed its welcome. Two years after an Olympics closing ceremony seen by an estimated 2-3 billion people worldwide, a very different kind of closure was taking place in Shougang, the final stage of its departure to the islet of Caofeidian in Hubei. Toasts were raised and officials speechified, the ceremony observed by a select group of former workers. Nearly three years later, the former factory giant is slowly disintegrating behind large padlocked fences and guarded gates. Inside, among blackened stacks, disused Soviet-style apartment blocks and a decaying workers' hospital, an overgrown warren of gloomy tunnels, railroads and rolling stock are rusting into oblivion. Wandering through this industrial necropolis, it seems as though some unknown event caused the residents to vanish overnight. Rattling pipes, wrapped in cloth, still billow steam, while yellow helmets, heavy-duty gloves, industrial face-masks, welding gear and boots and ubiquitous empty noodle packets – lie as if owners dropped them and fled. At other times, though, there's a startling reminder that this place still sustains life. One man in long johns strides confidently past clutching a toothbrush; he saunters into a disused bathroom without a backward glance. A gleaming bicycle rests in one open hallway, a crack of electric light visible under the door. A pensioner takes an evening stroll through the shuttered factories. Then there are sights that just seem bizarre: a phalanx of huge wild plants, resembling Triffids, block a road beside a lawn as neatly trimmed as a bowling green. Now Shougang's future is with the local government, who hope to turn it into a "Central Recreational District" that will somehow honor its past glories. Nearly 30 reporters were taken to the factory before the 18th Party Congress in November and told of plans to turn the area into a factory of a very different kind, cranking out animation, telecommunications and arts in place of steel and soot. Taking their cue from art zones in Beijing and Shanghai, some of the plant's distinctive architecture will be preserved, providing what Xinhua calls "a spot of industrial tourism." For sure, it's hard to imagine a better symbol of China's changing image: a giant of the Soviet planned economy, remolded into a mechanism of soft power in the era of the free market. Yet Shougang's story is as much about what was left behind. The plant's migration to Hubei in 2010 deprived 22,000 workers of a job they probably expected for life, and many found themselves cut adrift without any kind of social safety net. Some have made their way back to scratch a living as scavengers or squatters, while others simply seem unable to escape its shadow. One youngish-looking "black cab" driver dawdles outside the gate. A child of Shougang, like Guan he vividly remembers the factory's dining halls, where dinner was usually noodles and steam buns. At 31, though, he seems slightly adrift; there's not a lot of work for laid-off steel workers or their families. Still, on the way out, there's a queue of about a dozen workers waiting to collect box suppers from inside a corrugated building on the very outskirts of the factory's edge. Their foreman chafes at them to hurry: there's a bus on the way. When the cogs were still turning all over Shougang, such a scene must have been commonplace. Now, of course, it's an unexpected rarity. And although there are plenty who might disagree, that doesn't necessarily always have to be a bad thing. "As long as Shougang can stay in operation, unlike those Olympic facilities that aren't in use anymore, it should be fine – however that is," says Guan. "I've read many articles saying Beijing has huge potential for the development of its 'cultural industry.' Now that the central government is promoting it, you can either call this industry 'soft power' – or more simply, 'what's profitable.'" The Homko Club Despite amenities fit for an ancient emperor – or, perhaps, a mid-level provincial official – membership at the Homko remains at an all-time low of zero. In the 25-meter swimming pool, mounds of concrete rise from the frozen surface. The bar is bereft of bottles; no sighs will ever be heard from its bedrooms, because the Homko has long been abandoned. The story of what happened here, and the dozens of grandiose houses in the surrounding area, remain a mystery to this day. Now, half a decade after all life left this luxury location, the truth is beginning to emerge about a project that began over a decade ago, before the Olympics, back when borderline-hazardous air in the capital was considered normal. Housing developments were beginning to spring up on the edges of town, providing some blue-sky respite from the smoggy centre. It was then that villas by the Beichen Group, a Beijing-based realtor also known as Beijing North Star, were built just north of the Summer Palace. It is afterwards, though, that the story becomes unclear. The development had the bad luck to impinge on government plans to remake the surrounding area – a tangle of overgrown pastures and forest, home to only homeless and drug addicts – into the beautified area now known as the Olympic Forest Park. The expensive compound was marked for demolition, and served as the temporary offices of the Park's management, yet oddly remained standing long after. Controversy finally blew up around the villas in December 2012, instigated by an anonymous netizen almost as shady as the scandal he claims to have uncovered. The whole area is illegally owned by the Red Cross Society of China, according to a Weibo user calling himself "Mengzi Mencius" (the pseudonym is a combination of Wade-Giles and Pinyin translations of the Confucian philosopher, Mencius). His post spread quickly, forcing the beleaguered charity to issue a brief statement, denying that the Red Cross owned any property at the park and adding that the allegations were being investigated. Olympic Park representatives said the villas lack any property deeds and are currently under their management. "Now the Red Cross is hiring its own people to investigate itself, there's probably never gonna be a way to find out [the truth]," scoffed Mencius, who claims to be CEO of a dating website called 7SOYO. Specializing in exposing corruption in the charity sector, Mencius is one of a growing number of "people's supervisory activists", citizen journalists who interpret new leader Xi Jinping's reformist rhetoric as an anti-corruption call to arms. But Mencius reckons the case is murkier and more dangerous than at first suggested. "Even you [foreigners] won't dare to investigate it," he warned in an email interview. The Red Cross uses a two-room, seven-employee accountancy firm, an usually small accounting operation, considering the amounts of money involved. "To protect my source," Mencius said, "I can't release more proof [but if the Red Cross investigation] differs from the facts, I'll be providing more materials until the truth comes out." However, he adds, the story goes further than the mere quotidian misuse of public funds: "The water is deep and there are bigger parties involved." Wonderland Cycling past these ruins, though, local resident Old Liu is scornful of what remains of the phantom project. "It was big news at the time," he says. "Clearly, they wanted a place for eating, drinking, playing and having fun… and who cares if it was legal? Today, if you have money, you're king." This particular king fell from his throne rather prematurely, however. Both Wonderland and the City went down with former Beijing mayor Chen Xitong, who, in the 1990s, spearheaded what became the capital's signature real estate: vast, usually empty, "luxury" malls. Chen steamrollered many of these projects through, often with flagrant violations of building codes and other rules, such as the infamous 1994 forced eviction of a McDonald's flagship restaurant from its 20-year lease in Wangfujing to build the Oriental Plaza,a prject funded by Li Kashing, Asia's richest man. In 1998, Chen was sentenced to 16 years for graft, his associates jailed and his legacy disgraced. Despite a doomed attempt to revive Wonderland by cashing in on the growing Olympics fever in 2005, this and similar Chen projects, like the so-called 'Romance Park of the Heart' in Yuquanlu (now demolished, sadly, but forever preserved in full, crumbling, weed-strewn glory here), remain never-never lands. The deals that created them are long defunct yet the half-finished buildings remarkably linger on. Beijing Amusement Park Where thousands of families once swarmed, now only a 12-year-old boy called Ding roams free. The son of a local caretaker, he spends his afternoons prowling a domain 750 mu across, which once included a lake (now filled), and stretched over bridges (barred with steel plates), restaurants and concession stands (boarded-up and empty), a mountain (dismantled), and a place known as the Magic Road (wreathed in dirty shrouds, it's long since lost any magic). Ding first appeared at an awkward moment: as I was sneaking into the park with the photographer. The sound of footsteps, while we were crawling on all fours over someone else's tin roof, was a cause for alarm, but when the grinning boy turned, everybody relaxed. The park's 150 workers were laid off years ago but, far from being completely deserted, the place was soon taken over by an "abandonment economy": security guards, sweepers and groundskeepers, who all ceaselessly patrol the grounds (though the only people wanting to get in seem to be us) and the boy is adept at dodging them. He's useful. As he tells us, "I get chased by angry cleaning women all the time". When the Beijing Amusement Park shut down for good, it wasn't just the staff that felt the pain, though. While those without skills faced an uncertain future they hadn't anticipated, locals who saw the park as a pivotal part of their childhoods were confronted with the fleeting nature of the past in China. "Don't take away our memories," pleaded messages scrawled on the gates after they closed; these wistful farewells were soon painted over but visitors who forlornly loitered outside the shuttered park in 2010 were keen to express their sense of loss and confusion. "There are less and less genuine old Beijing things," one office worker told China Daily in an extensive eulogy to the 23-year-old park. She felt lost in the modern city: "Beijing is getting further and further away from the city of my childhood memories." Ding, too, is prone to sentiment. Initially boastful ("I used to come here all the time with my friends and break windows… look at my knife. I'm training to be a ninja") he grew sober as the sun drew down on the Ferris wheel, now rusted permanently still. "Actually, when I think I about it, it makes me feel sad. This place used to be so full of life." A joint Sino-Japanese venture whose luck ran out once the zestier Happy Valley opened in 2006, the park's business affairs are still being unraveled. The land was in the hands of the Chongwen District government which became part of Dongcheng District in 2010. There is talk of grand plans for a new kind of entertainment complex with bowling, arcades, themed restaurants and 34 cinema screens. Wealthy comedian Zhao Benshan and former NBA player Yao Ming are among those whose names are being floated around as key investors. In the good old days, flowerbeds greeted visitors with bright purple blooms – a color traditionally associated with prosperity and wealth. Since that dried up, the guards have put them to more practical use: cabbages replace the posies. There's a kind of strange beauty to the ruins, at least. "It's not safe here," one middle-aged security guard scolded us. He agreed to show us round, with one proviso: "Just tell [the other guards] you're my friends, otherwise I'll get fined!" Standing next to the keeled-over remains of a Santa Claus, he said his appreciation for the landscape of the Beijing Amusement Park still runs high. "The lake is wonderful," he said (it's now mostly filled with rocks and debris, with a few half-sunken boats among the stagnant lilies). Yet the guard is impressed. "It's beautiful to take pictures with the ducks here." A quartet of wildfowl wheel over the marshy waters as the sun sets on. At the park's edge, a train rattles by the rusting remains of the rollercoaster, giving the brief illusion of movement among its skeleton structure, silhouetted in the twilight. Far away, beyond the outskirts, headlights glimpsed rushing across the Second Ring Road show a city unconcerned, busy going about its nightly business. But inside empty the Beijing Amusement Park, all is serene. Guangheli In Guangheli, feral cats roost on huge piles of rubble, chickens strut and peck at rubbish between half-destroyed walls and the ruined walls of homes long-since relinquished. Tombstones, the remnants of what some residents say was an old Qing Dynasty cemetery, lie rather appropriately broken-up into slabs of granite. The area used to be home to one of Beijing's biggest markets. Although vendors still do a quick street trade less than a minute away, Guangheli itself is deathly quiet, bar the occasional territorial yapping of someone's dog. A door opens and suddenly, out peers a wrinkled and curious face – people still live here in the shadow of the wrecking ball, with the surrounding residential towers to constantly remind them of the inevitable. One such holdout is Pan Zhenliang, a cheerful septuagenarian who keeps pigeons as well as a huge and feisty Dalmatian. The big dog gets shepherded into a side room after we accept his invitation to tea. What follows is a pragmatic tale on the dynamics of demolition. "All this was once full of farmers, growing vegetables and living quite poorly in communes," Pan explains, about the time the local government began building new housing. At first, this wasn't a problem. The original communes were not well built and their crowded living space meant privacy was an unheard-of luxury; after the state began developing the land, lives improved. "But then it developed into an industry… the city expanded and the old part was gone." Pan's situation is as old as the Property Law – he's not happy with his current level of compensation, which currently amounts to 600,000 yuan for 200 square metres, or four new houses in the suburbs. Pan knows what he wants: he's holding out for a pair of two-bedroom apartments for him and his wife ("facing south, like this") and two three-bedroom apartments for his daughter. His neighbors, he says, were not so well-off as he and so were glad to accept their initial offer. "As far as I'm concerned, I'm not from a dirt-poor family, I'm not homeless, nor do I have any problem with my current house," he reasons. Then he lays down as it is: "I ain't leaving unless there's a sweet deal, and if the demolition team comes – I'm 70 years old, what am I afraid of?" Judging from his neighbors' laundry lines, with their telltale fifties' fashion, the only holdouts left in Guangheli are just like him, old enough not to take anything lying down, too old to care to care what it is. "[Thugs hired by developers] chucked bricks across my wall a few years ago and the police were called," Pan recalls. His situation, he says, proves that the government is on his side: "Demolitions are covered all over the media; reporting on it has become totally official now." In Pan's cluttered sitting room, the only other sound is the soft cooing of his pigeons, which he's proud to say are specially imported, and the bark of the Dalmatian, who's excited to be free again. But the roar of the bulldozers, he knows, grows ever closer as a reality. Guangheli is one of the last of its kind, a real, traditional village in Beijing that's still standing – just about – inside the ring roads that demarcate the centre. ★ Photography by Tony Lo. Additional reporting by Valentina Luo. Links and sources  |
| The ex-bank chief with 4 hukou and 1 billion yuan property holdings Posted: 25 Jan 2013 02:00 AM PST  Police are investigating Gong Aiai, former deputy chief of Shenmu Rural Commercial Bank, after a whistleblower revealed she held four hukou, which she used to buy more than 20 properties in Beijing, worth over one billion yuan. [ more › ]  |
| More signs that Bo Xilai may face the death penalty (UPDATE: Trial on Monday?) Posted: 25 Jan 2013 01:00 AM PST  Despite early cynical predictions that disgraced politician and potential murderer Bo Xilai would get off easy thanks to his inestimable guangxi and familial connections, recent statements by officials seem to indicate that Bo will get the book thrown at him, with fatal consequences. [ more › ]  |
| Adult Film Star Diana Pang Enters Chinese Politics, Is Instantly Popular Posted: 25 Jan 2013 01:35 AM PST Search "actress Diana Pang" on Google, and right under the hit for her Wikipedia page, you'll find images such as the above, along with… …and… We're not just skin-baiting here. This busty buxom, star of such softcore porn films as Erotic Ghost Story – Perfect Match and Evil Instinct, known as the "divine bosom," according to Want China Times, might be entering the one arena that's dirtier than porn: politics. WSJ's Josh Chin has the write-up:
Pang ("Pang Dan" on the mainland) was born in Changsha, Hunan province, educated at Juilliard, and winner of Miss China USA. According to Wikipedia, she never appeared fully nude on screen, though my Google searches have certainly turned up pictures of her exposed breasts. She appeared in "Category III" Hong Kong films, intended for audiences 18 and over. We wish Ms. Pang all the best in her new endeavors. Here she is giving an interview: Former Softcore Porn Star Is China's Hottest New Politician (WSJ) |
| Posted: 24 Jan 2013 05:00 PM PST This posting includes an audio/video/photo media file: Download Now |
| Porn star Peng Dan degrading herself, getting involved in Chinese politics Posted: 25 Jan 2013 12:00 AM PST  It must be hard for adult film actress Peng Dan, star of such films as Erotic Ghost Story, Loving Girl, and The Six Devil Woman, to face her parents at the moment, now that reports have emerged that she's entered the seedy and distasteful world of Chinese politics. [ more › ]  |
| L'Avenue: A Good Neighborhood Wine Spot Posted: 24 Jan 2013 11:57 PM PST |
| Banned Chinese author Yan Lianke shortlisted for Man Booker International Prize 2013 Posted: 24 Jan 2013 11:00 PM PST  Beijing-based, oft banned Chinese author Yan Lianke has been shortlisted for the 2013 Man Booker International Prize, the judging panel announced this week. [ more › ]  |
| People Are Now Coping With Beijing’s Pollution By Building Giant Domes Posted: 24 Jan 2013 11:59 PM PST An international school in Beijing has built two "pollution domes" to protect their students during physical activity. A Financial Times article describes these domes as "giant pressurised canopies that can cover sports fields, playgrounds or tennis courts" — specifically, at the International School of Beijing, it covers six tennis courts, a track, a miniature soccer field, and basketball/handball courts. You won't be surprised to learn that tuition here can run up to $35,000 (218,000 yuan) per year. PE teacher Mary Wenstrom tells FT:
Just to reiterate: to enable spoiled and bratty kids to exercise with peace of mind, a school has installed pressurized canopies over courts that look an awful lot like they're already indoors. Do rich people live on the same Earth as the rest of us? The story for this occasion is Steven Millhauser's "The Dome," from Dangerous Laughter. Excerpt:
Please check out Alec Baldwin's reading of Millhauser's story here. New on Beijing skyline: pollution domes (Financial Times) |
| Foxconn claims reports of worker strike in Beijing are 'completely inaccurate' Posted: 24 Jan 2013 10:00 PM PST  Yesterday we reported that thousands of workers at a Foxconn plant in Beijing had gone on strike over a dispute with managers regarding annual bonuses. The strike was tweeted about on Weibo, and covered extensively by Hong Kong's Phoenix TV and Radio Free Asia, but now Foxconn is denying it ever took place. [ more › ]  |
| Posted: 24 Jan 2013 09:48 PM PST |
Ten more Chongqing officials have been 
The Shanghai Health Bureau 
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