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January 24 Understanding A Rural China
In two decades of economy reform in china, the images of gorgeous banks with the shine of noble marble are the most impressive concept in our understand of economic growth, and those dense smoke in the sky and smelly rivers and lakes which we don’t usually like to recognize. We think, of no doubt, the economic growth is positive and good. That partly explains our preference for noble marble smell instead of stingy industrial smell. However, we don’t even realize that those smells cheated our noses and covered the genuine smell of the whole country, the smell of earth in our vast rural area.
Undoubtedly, the economic boom began with the banks, which is purely logical. When they washed the dirt on their hands in the farmland and went to the city, they had nothing but only a small piece of land and their shabby house, so they went to banks. Because people were supported to grant loan to help the development of the economy at the beginning, and it was easy to get a loan from banks, we got what we saw today, the industrial economy and the business world.
In the initial period of the reform, there was a giant market and all opportunities waiting for those people who just walked into the city, and someone said, everything was profitable if you had the capital to invest in it. It was the truth. It is reasonable that the expected surge of people into the city didn’t come out, as we saw, with a large base of labor in China, the city and industry didn’t suffer the short of labor. As professor Bi Xiaotong mentioned in his book the Rural China, “Those people who directly live on farming stick on the farmland”. He says, “Hundreds of years the residents in the village shared the few family name. It is clear on the gravestone that their descendants are still living here. The population in the village seems to be tied to the farmland, and it doesn’t change, generation by generation”, and “we can possibly believe, persisting in static is normal to the people live on farming, and the migration is abnormal that only happens in flood, drought or constant wars, in which case, it may drive some of the peasants to leave their home. Even in big events like the Anti-Japanese war, the migrating groups were just few, I believed.”
However, it seems, the people in rural area cannot hold on anymore. According to the statistics figures, up to May 2005, about 120 million migrated workers leave their homeland for work, among them, 100 million in the city, including 60 million drifting between different provinces. The situation is quite different from those twenty years ago, although they all washed their hands of dirt, and came with nothing. What’s different is that they can’t get a single buck from the bank with the same old houses. If we consider their precursors came for business of their own, they are purely driven out of the land by outside pressure, without any option to choose, selling out their only physical labor. There is no opportunity waiting for them, but exploitation.
Maybe some politicians think it is a good chance to make a show. Several months ago, the first “festival for migrated workers” was on in Jiaozuo City. In the period of the “festival”, some strange shows like the “top ten migrated workers election”, “movie week in construction site” and “group wedding for migrated workers” were on, although nobody saw any essential benefits were given to migrated workers. The Report of Migrated Workers of China issued by the research office of the State Department states that migrated workers have occupied the majority of the industrial workers, 52% of the Second Industry and 58% of the Third Industry. But it is completely out of proportion between their contribution to the development of the economy and the welfare they get, including the protection for the basic right, the social protection for medicine, unemployment, industrial injury, endowment insurance, and in further consideration, the education for their children. And migrated workers are almost completely deprived of any of these social welfares. According to the Representative Investigation done by the National Statistic Department in 2004, migrated workers receive only 500-800 Yuan monthly while working in high intensive labor more than 11 hours per day, 26 days per month in average. In some area, such level of salary reaches the lowest line in the regulation of the government. And it is usually the case of payment delay even for such a small amount of remuneration. By far, the rate of migrated workers who joined the social insurance project which known as the Five Social Insurance is low, except a certain numbers of workers who joined the Industrial Injury Insurance, only 15% in the Endowment Insurance, 10% in medicine, and almost zero in the Unemployment Protection and the Birth Insurance. The investigation also shows that, in the education for migrated workers’ children, in the rural area, 20% of the rural labors have received short-term training of career skill, while it comes to the junior training, the number drops to 3.4%, and 0.13% in middle rank training. It means, at least 76.4% of them receive no any job training. Stunningly, the governmental fund for training the migrated workers is, basically, zero. Professor Lu Zhoulai says, “Billions of migrated workers who have nothing to do with any basic social protection became a rootless and homeless group in the city. Thanks to their migration, the economy of China has developed, and the vitality of the city is built up. Meanwhile, the relationship between them and the city, even the whole society goes to tension because the city cannot provide them the most fundamental protection.”
Perhaps we should think where the problem roots in. Why do they leave the farmland for the city in spite of the most adverse living condition? What is the rural area like today? Should we try to locate the ultimate reason in the rural area instead of simply focusing on the migrated workers in the city only? Why were the static villagers turned into the most migratory group in China today?
Despite we keep saying “Agriculture is the first cornerstone industry” in on our lips, actually, we never place importance on agriculture, except in famine. Reasonably, the growth of agriculture is largely limited by land and sorts of natural resources, unlike those business and industry; it is not capable to be the locomotive of the economy. Since the economy reform, the obsession with rate of growth has covered the authentic pursuit of quality of life. The daily changing city building, the expanding industrial area and the prosperity of business world, become the new spot of wealth, however nearly all of these are far away from the rural area and the people who insulated there by the gap of urban and the rural area. The wave of reform is rushing to the traditional small-scale agricultural producing style and the self-supporting rural system. As the result, people walk out. The main color of earthy grey of the rural area remains although few distinguished villages like Huaxi and Naijie catch our eyes.
“The difference of income between the urban and the rural area is 2.5 times in 1995, while it grows to 3.23 times in 2003. If the transfer payment and the subsidies are considered, the difference is at 5 times”; “the highest difference is at 10.7 times”. The stunning figures from the National Statistics Bureau indicate that when the urban residents share the joy of economy growth, the rural people are suffering. The difference of income lays on the long-term distortion of market. Ever since the market-oriented economy is established, the agricultural products have been forced down the price for supplying cheap raw materials and low cost of labor to the industry. It could be easily imagined that when the farmers spend the whole year of effort for a small among of income, they cannot ever pay for the going up price of fertilizer, seeds, machine and taxes. The distorted market suppresses the growth of their income and misleads the configuration of resources. The inhibition of the advantages of natural resource and the high-tech modern agriculture approaches, results in low efficiency and slow growth.
If we say the side effect of market distortion that is not foreseen is a mistake, and now our slow action of rectification and remedy is another more serious mistake. Despite the recent slice of improvement in tax cut in agriculture, it is far from enough. I think, the governmental investment to agriculture is far insufficient, and the capital in rural area is badly needed. When I see the combination of “Rural” and “Finance”, I find myself quite difficult to imagine and relate the two, and come to a psychological resistance, trying to ask myself, “Do we really have rural finance?”
In another aspect, we don’t lack of money. According to the official numbers, the rate of administrative expenditure is straight-lined rises every year. During the 1978-2003, 25 years, the administrative expenditure has increased 87 times, average 23% per year and it is still going up by a wide margin. Only in 2005, the expenditure of vehicle purchase and maintenance in all levels of government reaches 300 billion; the expenditure for banquet is 200 billion, and the number for tour at public expense is 100 billion, totally 600 billion for the three above.
Some skeptics question about the efficiency of the capital in rural area and claim that this is going to be a money black hole. A test reported in The Economy Guide was held to demonstrate and estimate the efficiency of rural finance. The Delsaler Fund held a 15-year long Bafaliya Test in the Nanzhang Village in Qingzhou city, Shandong Province. This so called “Equivalence Test of urban and rural areas” hopes to find a solution of “City Rush”, trying to keep the farmer in their land. In 15 years, 4.5 million has been put mainly in the improvement of environment and infrastructures, making the village of “no city, no sea, no traffic, no mineral and no land” an earth shaking change. Though the villagers live in all simple and unadorned houses, the modern asphalted pavement divides the whole village into perfect order, with proper position of the industrial, school and living zones. Today, the average pure income for one villager is 6000 yuan a year. The villagers make the agriculture a part-time job for the villager, and they work in factories, in which, they can enjoy endowment insurance and medical welfare. A very special eyeball-catching figure is, before the test, the village has 4000 people, and now, 4000 remains.
As seen, to solution for the problem of crowded migrated workers lays in the “equivalent developmental mode” in urban and rural area, in other words, we don’t really have an excess of labor in rural area. I think, one effective way to realize this mode is to establish a rural financial system. It is not difficult to find out that people in agriculture can hardly grant a loan in the bank, with one reason of short of the ability to provide the security and another reason of insufficient support from the national financial system. In such situation they can only borrow money from their friends. The bad financial system has been proved to be in the way of the agricultural development. But the central bank’s recent trial of petty loan for agriculture is considered to be a good start, although we still have a long road towards a peaceful and thriving new agriculture.
November 18 Lost in Superficial ProsperityWhen we are still passionately arguing about the neccessarity of the reform of current educational institution, and scrutinizing about for solution in all means, we are, maybe, coaxed into a misconception that we are not willing to consider the human factor, instead, we stubbornly think the institution to be the subject. Sort of “Institutional Enthusiasm”, Xu zhiyuan calls it, I remember. Simply compared with the educational institution in the western world, US, eg, one can hardly find big difference. Generally, they are all divided the whole into three stages, the rudimentary school, the middle school, and college for further study. Usually the first two stages are for public education, while the college is for elite. Thus, a selective mechanism is necessary between the second and the third step, which is more or less similar to our entrance exam for college. Though China has a much lower rate of schooling for public, as it is, we can categorize it into a economic problem, rather than the institution. Somebody argues that the major problem lays on our connection between the public school and the college, which shows a failure in the shifting from a mode of forced study to autonomous search study. And it is apparently a superficial reason rather than the real inner problem, because they cannot raise a practical solution of it. While the rudimentary schooling needs a mode of forced study to shape the behaviour of the kids, and it partly determined it is not possible to put it away and replace it with autonomous study. As we try to develop such kind of autonomous study in the rudimentary stage, we are depressed to find our slogan of “quality education” has turned into all excuse for our parents to force their children receive all kind of special skill training; and our autonomous study is not more than a decoration for our schools' advertising alongside with the slogan of “a higher entrance rate for college”. Since it is so incomprehensible, we ascribe it to the institutional problem. It is ironic. While our government tells us we are developing our country into a nation of common wealth, our Gini index is rising stably, just as the rush of our GDP. We can see it as a perfect contrast when we look at the skyscraper at the same time we see the “villages in city” and old adobes. And we are so cheerful to report that the transparency of our counrty has “skyrocketed form 78 to 70”, of course, even with 8 nations rank the 70th. We again, attribute them to the institutional problem. It is pretty trendy to ascribe everything incomprehensible to the institution. “Well, why not?” , they say, since it is so convenient, and also easily to exempt ourselves from all responsiblities. It is also trendy to esteem a man with very simple and manifest criterion, eg, money, position, and the number of the people who knows him. It is quite amazing to see the society going in only one direction, in my words, we are again in an unconscious enthusiasm nothing big difference than what we were four decades ago. It is always dangerous to indulge in a uniform criterion or value, as we all witnessed, resulted turbulence and irrationality. The education system also falls into a single-oriented pit. Our kids have to deal with all tests and exams very carefully because the mark plays an only role to evaluate them, and the intensive competitive enviornment amplifies it. All students have to cope with the trendy evaluation standard, and meet the taste of the enthusiasm of money, position and fame, by winning over others, beating each other and taking all means to gain eyeballs. Thus, people have such a morbid state to chase meaningless popular entertainment, to pose curved figure for noise and excitement, to sell one's self for material enjoyment in the price of one's genuine love and respect. When confronted with criticism for all of these, we are readily to attribute all problem to institution, a non-human object. It is the time to think it over, what we should do behind the superficial prosperity of this fevered society. November 12 Cyber Game EnthusiasmI picked up my enthusiasm for cyber games recently. Not long after I felt quite reluctant to keep on studying English, I found a good way to separate the tediousness and the incessant anguish from the life, as what I did for years, I come into a vedio game enthusiam. I remembered in my early childhood, maybe in the third grade in school, my father brought me my first pc, which is a part of my dream at that time. Perhaps once I saw the server and the typing client in my father's office, I knew I should got one and it was going to change my life. At least, in very few of my genuine excitement so far in my life, the day I got a pc is the most expressive one. Cyber game didn't come the first, but typing, which was considered to be a major computer skill. I was not born a typer indeed, but a adventurer. Pretty soon, I learned to read the scaring English in pc and the complicated operation in dos, what might be seen as a kind of genius. Dissimilar to the easy-to-use windows system what we got today, I used dos, command line after command line. Though I was not a good typer in Chinese characters, I could type very impressive accuracy and speed in commands. And I met cyber games. By chance I got the disc of C&C, as a gift by one of my father's colleagues. Comparing to those boring games before, the interesting strategy game gave me a totally different concept of cyber game. Unlike what we do today in windows, just a few clicks and more clicks, to install the game was not an easy task, with all settings for hardwares, sophisticated manual in English. Red Alert went after C&C, to be the two of my favourite games, then KKND came afterward-the three games I most remembered. I remembered at that time, when all kids were still enthusiastic about old style of video games and kids' play, I had gone further away. The emotion of a kid was simple and flat, and I played games always with high concentration. In order to approach such concentration, I always solved all annoying trivias before I played games, mostly, in very high efficiency. So my parents usually had no complaint about my playing games, for I usually did well in all other aspects. Sometimes there are exceptions. When I was playing games with David and Johnko, or other friends more, my father always thought I played it alone in no regard of my friends. And When I had played for quite a period, I had a quarrel with my father, who was trying to stop me. However, my father complained me for the time-consuming of games, left little time for doing extracurriculum works, or some skill training like hardwriting, drawing and martial art. I always thought it over again and again today, perhaps, it is partly ture. However games were time-consuming, I felt with no regret and guilty for the time I involved in it. I don't like regret about anything, as someone puts, a ture man regrets for nothing. Sometimes, you felt it in a rigid but uncertain way that something was destined to be done, or all things would go quite differently. So I met the games. I dissliked to calculate everything in a logical and accurate way it seems, because of all the uncertainties and unpredictable human reflections to even tiny difference. When I recalled all the images of my enthusiasm in cyber games I could always find some vague links between games and my life, not only the peak and also the valley, with all my memories I went through. I saw many people, always, attribute bad happenings to here and there, and the tragedy of their life to others or just simply to themselves. To some extend, they failed to see the connections among the all things and the selective memory help them nothing but to define themselves in a narrow view. Once I caught the flash why games came into my life, what if I went without cyber games and what if I involved all my time,energy and talent in just some practical aspects, first came the possible images then went into obscurity. Partly I accpeted it as a secret of the God about the possible arrangement what it came out if any tiny variables changes in the past life. I found myself picked up a little of my enthusiasm on games, and the remote memory about games; i don't know why. But I guess it not bad, and sometimes we just need it. October 30 Minor AilmentsStill, in the twilight of the early morning, the first I glance at the clock that reflected an odd greenish eyes, I suddently felt a headache and I sensed I got a fever, maybe influenza, maybe insomnia, maybe.
I regreted a bit while I was on the bus, since I was not in my condition I had the proper reason to exempt myself from routine trivialities, in which way, I could stay in bed for hours without doing anything and no guiltiness of laziness... Luxun says, "Sometimes, a bit of illness is a good fortune. But it must be in two conditions: firstly, it should be minor ailments instead of serious problems like cholera, plague or meningitis; secondly, you get some cash that keep you away from starvation while staying in bed."
I know when I was still at home, I felt no burden staying in bed, because always, the family would take care of it... It would be quite different and tougher in school, accustomed though, I really desired to enjoy a sense of idleness...
It seemed to all people living in the modern world were suffering from the short of free time, by doing nothing but casually recalling some old memory in the dusty corner, imagining something childish beyond the tedious reality and pondering over some sophisticated philosophy problems... It would be certainly an enjoyment...
I guessed it would come because I dreamed of the little girl in white demonstrating the usage of a life circle instrument to me... October 13 Foggy PavementWhen I woke up in the morning, I saw the vague twilight through the unclear window; it was dark and murmuring outside. I guessed it was the voice of some people walking around, and soon I found it wan't. It goes swift and pretty quite as a small piece of leaf slightly vibrating just right beside your ear; and it was so tiny that you can hardly define it where it was, from the internal body or the outside.
I remember it, a lot of it; it used to come with some familiar bright green light and a smell of a locked room. The light went through the shutters in a liquid quality that seems tangible and accessable by your hand. Though the smell was not a cheerful odor like flowers, I like it anyway.
The twilight was steadily floating on to my mosquito curtain and reflecting some dust, pungent dust odor. Everything kept its silence and I sensed it pretty foggy outside, because it really smelled.
I kept thinking the rabbit's eyes in the snare, trapped; partly I guessed the sun behind the foggy moist air looked like it.
When I went to the school in a foggy morning in the past, I used to walk in the black bitumen pavement straightly. My dad always asked me to wear a cap with the reason of preventing form headache; he said, it would cause a headache when the hair got moist in the acid fog. Though I tasted no acid in the air, I saw something yellowish in it, and I noticed here the poisonous chemicals was, so I took the cap. When a bus came, It disturbed the steady floating of the fog, spreading some wet dust all around and a stinging smell. In autumn I prefered to walk along the river, the water had a typical odor of waterweed and the moist cool air never polluted by vehicles.
I ran these days. Sometimes in foggy days, I would always like to take a black pavement, and run straightly. September 15 Emptiness and Meaninglessness
The last time I sat in a bus heading to the downtown in a similar gloomy day with ashen dark sky that is going to be a storm, I should had known that, years later, when it repeat, I would apparently think in another way, totally different way.
It is in the noon. When the pressure of the dark sky came closer to me, I couldn't help creating pictures of devastating storm in my mind, and it caused a caution and exciting emotion, as if walking in twilight before a blizzard and when I look back, I fail to see the road I walk passed. While I was staring through the window of the bus, I mostly I saw nothing except my own face and some tiny red flowers alongside the road, which weren’t blurred in the dark. Though I tried to feel the smell of the flowers, I didn’t make it because the last time I could peacefully and unconsciously taste the smell in my memory should be of ten years ago. Possibly it was alongside of my primary school or on the way to my old house that near a river. I can’t see clearly of the vague line between two spaces and also the time. At the time I got confused.
I knew the rain was coming so I could sense the chilly wind. Probably I didn’t walk with such shoes that gave me comfort, and they were rather slippy so that I moved extremely carefully in every step.
Sometimes old smell and images came in all the time once I feel free in my mind, which blocked my stream of thinking in a pretty annoying way. Thus, while I was calculating something, the past run in. It was really irony when I tried to figure out the present number it turned out to be the past one. It felt like repeating and circling. Just when I was putting down these words I ignored the chance that I might have thought about it again.
The bus went on, and I began feeling sleepy. It was usual I went asleep when I was taking a bus. Instead of something old happened in buses, a mass of unstructured materials, steel, glasses, plastic, muddy air, nylon, wet binder, optical lens, all together came in my train of thinking. Even I didn’t know what they came for, I started to calculate the portion of these materials in the bus. As soon as I realized it was senseless, I tried to figure out the reason of all of these. Possibly that’s something I dare not to face, I found hard to continue.
Once I turned my eyes back to the bus, I had an unpleasant mood about the crowded bus carriage. I looked up, the guide map said, “Please keep an eye on your belongings”. The words were written in red and covered by thick dust, when the bus went, it produced a silly and tormenting noise.
Not until some one clapped at my back telling me that my umbrella slipped down on the floor, I didn’t notice that the bus had gone though the countryside and into the down town. Although according to my watch, it wasn’t fast, I didn’t notice the time went by and I sensed my thinking might go as fast as happiness. The majority might easily accept the modern concept of time which I called it “the rush hour”, since I’ve learned about music and tempo, I no longer trusted it. The bus went in a moderate speed, perhaps in a specific tempo, neither fast as rushing in the middle of the street, nor slows as lying in the midnight in a country house. The cloud, the birds, the trees and the old man sitting in a clean, well-lighted café in Hemingway’s book had never considered about the rush speed. When I came to Hemingway’s novel, I can always see some clean, well-lighted and empty place, with some one just standing or sitting in it and doing nothing.
The crowded people and buildings were tremendously stressful, thus, I always look for a clean, well-lighted and empty place, to do something in an incredibly slow speed. Young guys were fond of putting on earphones to take some music in the bus, for killing slow empty time and in-heart emptiness. However, I did the opposite for gaining extra time to slow down.
The driver shouted to the crowd who tried to rush into the bus, and those who getting out. Every time when people changed, I paid attention to the difference between the two groups, and every time I nearly got the same conclusion. I trusted my judgment. They are indeed all the same.
The bus stopped at a crowded station, I guessed I should get down. But I still didn’t know where to go. September 12 TempoMy metronome sits in the front of my desk. Every time I look at it, something always motivates me to take off the cover and turn it on. The hammer swings and produces mechanical sound, one by one. My guitar practice tells me that I should follow the tempo, and go with the metronome. It is quite correct, undoubtedly. While it is another paradox, freedom of music and the strict tempo.
It is not easy to balance between the two. September 10 Let's Slow down and Do Something ElseI run these days, no particular reason, which remind me Forrest Gump. Am I going silly? Or like what Forrest said, instead of silly, just not smart. It's been a long period of time I consider myself maybe a little clever, which maybe a trap of self-esteem--when you feel yourself smart, you've been foolish. A Sort of.
I enjoy a quiet sunny afternoon like this, with pretty chilly wind around. I heard something in a green plastic bag blown down in the balcony--slice of trivia that does not derserve my concern. It is really empty when I am thinking, empty, totally empty. Somebody might have a impression of self-losing about this, and try every way to get rid of it. As a matter of course, they consider it an useless time-consuming, while i am not. I sensitively feel it good, something that ancient Chinese philosopher Zoranzi presume, the thing between the nothingness and reality.
Probably, I will keep running; probably not. I feel the nature. It gives me a message: Let's Slow down and Do Something Else.
September 06 it frightened me...i can't help thinking without boundaries these days even when i am contemplating something seriously... when i continued thinking in the classroom which is filled with dim light and old smell, it happened again...
i suddently found out that i might had seen or heard something before when the teacher was lecturing in the front... thought i failed to recall those stimuli precisely, perhaps some specific words or light, i noticed a very very femiliar feeling striked my nerves sharply, like a sting in the deepest heart...
i can tell apart those feelings from subconsciousness and logically made-up instinctly, because the two are so obviously different... some images or sounds recall something deep in my mind so that create unusual reflecting...
the more i think the more i feel frightened... TIME SEEMS TO BE CIRCLING... September 04 wandering at the beginning of the new termi feel a little bit strange at the gate of the new term... in the middle of summer, wet and hot weather haunts me although some isolated showers cools me down occasionally... and all my vacation life changes into a gloomy work day, indeed, unpolished gray and without a twinkle in my mess mind...
i wander through some of my friends' blog in which they all put down their ambitions and expectations in the new term... the idea, so strong in feeling, comes to me that it seems i have experianced those long time before... the feeling went to the peak when i was sitting in the class room of fiancial management, in the gap of my thinking and planning... the voice from the lecturer came to me in a extreme familiar tone, what strikes me like a stinging... i never have experianced so strong about this, thus i sensed that something gonna happen...
however nothing happened... i went wrong again...
David considers me a rational person, while i feel the opposite... i think i always follow my sense, trying to image and to endetail everything, without any fault and misperception, so that i can do my business carefully and smoothly... but this doesn't make me rational 'cause i cannot figure out everything and make a statement, i just do, then feel good...
perhaps because i always concentrate myself on testing my ability to image abstract things, i think it is important to absorb and contemplate over every detail as much as one can... in fact maybe i 've ignored the majority and gone in a wrong way sometimes... or so sense are distrustable, or something are deliberately sent to confuse my mind...
i always say it would be ridiculous when you do not trust youself... of course i don't mean confidence, instead, i doubt people's perceptivity...
July 30 to save our kids by killing games?i came across an essay in FangJun's blog on mindmeters.com, and i really want to say something....
briefly, it's about the problem of online-game addiction... it begins with the report program Economic Half Hour on CCTV, in an usual governmental and political tone... thus i downloaded the report and watched it carefully... i find out the problem behind the report is not just on surface... and i do not agree to FangJun...
firstly, the report is deliberately structure, with a obvious purpose, political background and illustration in bias... this is the very prerequisite i show negative view about it... the main role of media is to tell people the truth, not to force people unconsciously to accpet a point... the story in the report about a young man's experience of online-game addiction is touching, i admit, however, the problem is how much can be correctly and objectively narrated when a story is so deliberately reconstructed and colored? i can tell a story in a touching way, skillfully and technically decorated... i can easily raise extreme examples subjectively, but this only hinders the approaching to the truth... so this is my first suggestion-not to focus on extreme examples, and thinks rationally on the whole thing...
secondly, FangJun's idea is to functionalized, on online games... while online games costs much more money, and more time consuming, the problem is not at games themselves... we put the blame on allurements when we are addicted to them, and it does not make any progress on self-restriction and education... it's not deniable that negative effect on games exists in any century, and with better technology in games, no matter physical games or video games, it becomes more attractive, especially virtual-world games... it becomes important that how do we handle between virtual world and real world, how do we balance game and work...
thirdly, people's focus on game addiction in fact covers the essence of our society's problem, the problem of our education system... generally speaking, online-games have gained worldwide popularity... in other countries, i don't see such wide scale of addiction, and social problems caused by game addiction, even in Korea and US... game addiction is made up from two parts-people and game... do you really think game causes the problem?
by the way, i don't play online games, because i think it boring and in fact it is... i always ascribe social problem to some fundamental problem of people, and this is not an exception...
PS:
FangJun's essay: http://www.mindmeters.com/showlog.asp?cat_id=48&log_id=3001
CCTV's reports:
July 20 when humanbeing become functionallong summer vacation has been criticized by functionalists, in whose mind, everything should be one of the two, functional or useless; and there is no exception... they exclaim that long vacations such as summer vacation is purely a waste of time for the majority of children, and usually the case is, playing become tedious in the middle of the vacation...
i hear such voice so much in my summer vacations, not only to me, and to each children in vacation, which is so awfully bothering... maybe it is an inevitable phenomenon in the modern society of functionalism and scientism, in company with the loss of humanity itself... humanity, something represent the inner quality that distinguish has been abuse and misuse nowadays, is limited in a small scale as humanitarianism, or phased out in people's mind from the first chair of belief system... instead of humanity, functioalism, perhaps, become the director of people's activity... all they concern about is that whether their action is useful...
in some areas, this really serves its purposes; it develops a more economical approach to access certain targets, which scientifically costs less and do more... however, the idea is based on mechanical processing, and the problem is, whether it is feasible and adoptable when the object comes to human, whether functional concepts are efficient in education and humanity development...
i oppose to functional concepts, in the name of guarding the real humanity... June 11 <There's a Man in the Habit of Hitting Me on the Head with an Umbrella> by Fernando Sorrentinoi read pretty much recently.... sometimes i can always discover interesting books... this is Fernando Sorrentino's short passage, which i think represent something in our life... yep, i feel exactly somebody hitting my head now.... i need a prison break... out of that...
(CITED) Fernando Sorrentino was born in Buenos Aires, on November 8th, 1942. In Fernando Sorrentino's fiction there is a curious mixture of fantasy and humour that sometimes comes in a grotesque framework, and always in a verisimilar one. According to himself, he likes reading more than writing, and, “in fact, I don't write too much. After thirty-two years, I do not have a long bibliography to show.” His narrative work is made up of six short story books, a long tale, and a not too long novel. He is also the author of several books for children and of two interview books. His stories are found in a certain number of anthologies in Spanish, English and other languages. He has been translated into the following languages: English, Portuguese, Italian, German, French, Finnish, Hungarian, Polish, Chinese, Vietnamese, and Tamil.
There's a Man in the Habit of Hitting Me on the Head with an Umbrella By Fernando Sorrentino (Argentine) Translated intoEnglish by Clark M. Zlotchew
There's a man in the habit of hitting me on the head with an umbrella. It's exactly five years today that he's been hitting me on the head with his umbrella. At first I couldn't stand it; now I'm used to it. I don't know his name. I know he's average in appearance, wears a gray suit, is graying at the temples, and has a common face. I met him five years ago one sultry morning. I was sitting on a tree-shaded bench in Palermo Park, reading the paper. Suddenly I felt something touch my head. It was the very same man who now, as I'm writing, keeps whacking me, mechanically and impassively, with an umbrella.
On that occasion I turned around filled with indignation: he just kept on hitting me. I asked him if he was crazy: he didn't even seem to hear me. Then I threatened to call a policeman. Unperturbed, cool as a cucumber, he stuck with his task. After a few moments of indecision, and seeing that he was not about to change his attitude, I stood up and punched him in the nose. The man fell down, and let out an almost inaudible moan. He immediately got back on his feet, apparently with great effort, and without a word again began hitting me on the head with the umbrella. His nose was bleeding and, at that moment, I felt sorry for him. I felt remorse for having hit him so hard. After all, the man wasn't exactly bludgeoning me; he was merely tapping me lightly with his umbrella, not causing any pain at all. Of course, those taps were extremely bothersome. As we all know, when a fly lands on your forehead, you don't feel any pain whatsoever; what you feel is annoyance. Well then, that umbrella was one humongous fly that kept landing on my head time after time, and at regular intervals.
Convinced that I was dealing with a madman, I tried to escape. But the man followed me, wordlessly continuing to hit me. So I began to run (at this juncture I should point out that not many people run as fast as I do). He took off after me, vainly trying to land a blow. The man was huffing and puffing and gasping so that I thought, if I continued to force him to run at that speed, my tormenter would drop dead right then and there.
That's why I slowed down to a walk. I looked at him. There was no trace of either gratitude or reproach on his face. He merely kept hitting me on the head with the umbrella. I thought of showing up at the police station and saying, "Officer, this man is hitting me on the head with an umbrella." It would have been an unprecedented case. The officer would have looked at me suspiciously, would have asked for my papers and begun asking embarrassing questions. And he might even have ended up placing me under arrest.
I thought it best to return home. I took the 67 bus. He, all the while hitting me with his umbrella, got on behind me. I took the first seat. He stood right beside me, and held on to the railing with his left hand. With his right hand he unrelentingly kept whacking me with that umbrella. At first, the passengers exchanged timid smiles. The driver began to observe us in the rearview mirror. Little by little the bus trip turned into one great fit of laughter, an uproarious, interminable fit of laughter. I was burning with shame. My persecutor, impervious to the laughter, continued to strike me.
I got off—we got off—at Pacifico Bridge. We walked along Santa Fe Avenue. Everyone stupidly turned to stare at us. It occurred to me to say to them, "What are you looking at, you idiots? Haven't you ever seen a man hit another man on the head with an umbrella?" But it also occurred to me that they probably never had seen such a spectacle. Then five or six little boys began chasing after us, shouting like maniacs.
But I had a plan. Once I reached my house, I tried to slam the door in his face. That didn't happen. He must have read my mind, because he firmly seized the doorknob and pushed his way in with me.
From that time on, he has continued to hit me on the head with his umbrella. As far as I can tell, he has never either slept or eaten anything. His sole activity consists of hitting me. He is with me in everything I do, even in my most intimate activities. I remember that at first, the blows kept me awake all night. Now I think it would be impossible for me to sleep without them.
Still and all, our relations have not always been good. I've asked him, on many occasions, and in all possible tones, to explain his behavior to me. To no avail: he has wordlessly continued to hit me on the head with his umbrella. Many times I have let him have it with punches, kicks, and even—God forgive me— umbrella blows. He would meekly accept the blows. He would accept them as though they were part of his job. And this is precisely the weirdest aspect of his personality: that unshakable faith in his work coupled with a complete lack of animosity. In short, that conviction that he was carrying out some secret mission that responded to a higher authority.
Despite his lack of physiological needs, I know that when I hit him, he feels pain. I know he is weak. I know he is mortal. I also know that I could be rid of him with a single bullet. What I don't know is if it would be better for that bullet to kill him or to kill me. Neither do I know if, when the two of us are dead, he might not continue to hit me on the head with his umbrella. In any event, this reasoning is pointless; I recognize that I would never dare to kill him or kill myself. May 19 my short passage in Ernest Hemingway stylea man who reading on the roof
one a hot evening in a small town, he was heading to the roof to continue his reading, where could see the incessantly shifting-colored sky... there were always surrounded by tiny trembling voice of insects... after a while, it was going dim, reflecting a magical pleasurable color on his book... he smiled and turned over his book on his knee, because he like the moment when the sky went dark...
he stood up, with arms on the handrail at the edge of the roof... he noticed a fresh girl in white sitting in the grassfield under an aspen... this picture was mixed with some muddy and grass smell, and vague music from a unknown balcony, what gave him great comfort both physically and spiritually... but at the moment, he realized this delicate screen was so ephemeral, that once he felt it, it fled... the majority might had a impulse emerged in their hearts, which urged them to have a camera to capture it... however, he doesn't agree with it... he considered that, to believe a snapshot more ture than the posed portrait was really a prejudice, what photograhy played in life is essentially hesitation and a unsuitable break in harmony... thus, he would be rather seeing it in eyes and let it go...
he stood still and watching in the some frame until it really went dark, completely vague in its outline... perhaps he just enjoy the break, perhaps with other reasons... his friends were curious about him on this affair, while they never tried to ask him to figure it out, partly because they thought it to be a peculiar hobby... though, somebody guessed there must be a specific motivation in it, technically, absolutely correct... anyway, he seemed to need no explaination for his own stuff...
he turned away, slowly stepped downstairs, with his small book in his hand, slightly swinging... April 28 again rainningi had got used to wake up at early six in the morning since i begin going to work in the canton fair... this might disturbing...
the sound of heavy rain woke me up, and the dim color from the remote sky... everytime when i am listenning to the rain i always want to have a look at it, with an emotion just like going to a show... indeed, when i saw something with a slight excitement and fresh joy, i always feel it like a show... the most attractive part is the moment you getting up and preparing to do something with an unpredictable result, and, though you don't know what the thing exactly is, you have a vague picture in your mind...rainning is just like rainning, but with differences... that is why it is unpredictable...
i stood still in the balcony watching the rain dropped on my plant... it's trembling and showing its vital color, polished green, shining in my eyes...
i tried to recall these days in canton fair, frame by frame... i saw any single picture if i wanted, but failed to construct them to a integer... my dad always asked me what i learned from the work, and i replied, i've no idea... for me, it is so difficult to figure out every nail of the matter... and i don't think i have to... 'caused i think, learning is not by word, and the world is not constituted by definite rules...
my friends asked me about my work in the fair, partly because my team's work is a little bit unique... it's always the case that others show great admiration for a part of you , and meanwhile, you are thinking it bad... well, it is more or less like an encircled city... while you are despairingly going out, others rushing into it... i think the idea is so great that describe our lives in this way, truly and exactly...
honestly, i think that isn't bad... at least, they are going, going for an inner propose... they go because they don't know... and accurately, nobody knows... the future is so unpredictable that can be any opportunity...
Charles Dickens tells it quite precise in his book Great Expectation... at the very beginning of the pavement, we see mountains by mountains, so we go... if i know what the future will be, or one day i can even calculate it... that means i have no need to go...
i always think about the essence of freedom and what the most suitable society is... so many people were trying to seek a perfect society... my answer is, no static perfection exist, unless, we reach the end of human... that is why we keep going, freely, unpredictablly, with strong will...
my friend tell me, it is a great joy when you crazily doing preparation for an exam, you know that there is a long vacation waiting... i see that, so i always go... well, the May holiday is coming...
April 09 always like thatmy mainboard, Epox 4G4A, broke down eventually, predictable, and with sufficient preparations... for a long time i've been suffered from tiny problems of the board... and i know it this will come...
i spent two nights wriggling on the net, looking for a suitable substitute... say, the quality of computer products is going down... chosing a mainboard more or less like picking up vegetables in the supermarket... something similar to the word that Forrest Gump said, life is like a box of chocolate, you will never know what you gonna get... a strong feeling of peaceful unknown emerged in my head when i see for that myself...
so i got the new board working in my old dusty computer yesterday... Asrock, P4V88+, with VIA PT880 and VT8237Rplus in side, a cheap board but at least still ok... the new piece eliminated all of the tiny problem in my old one... i got new things and i lost the ability to crazily overclocking my northwood 1.8 directly to 2.4... my machine works on 2.15 just now, that is the maximum effort...
to go to work in the gz trade fair for about 17 days is really a headache, although i can avoid those dump classes and i just only got new dump classes in fact...
a pretty late call came...david told me that his miss for the regislation for cet4, and i told him that cet4 mark is purely a random number, what's the honest truth for me...
one thing goes and one comes by...when i shining my new leather shoes and watching at the new mainboard box beside, with a groomy raining and foggy color, part of me is conscious of that, IT'S ALWAYS LIKE THAT...
by the way, who knows how to overclock my machine back to 133 external clock rate? and who knows how to overclock my head?
P4 Northwood 1.8 Kingmax DDR433 256 Kingmax DDR333 256 ASrock P4V88+ with VIA PT880 northbridge( old borad is Epox 4G4A with intel 845G) Gigabyte R9550 with 64M Maxtor Pata 160G Segate Pata 80G Acer cdrom 52x Liteon cdburner 48x Greatwall Power Supply NEC firewire card March 23 our dramaour drama finished, as a crazy happiness ended...
when i cried out the last word, i released...
but, i got the same problem...
my drama ended, while the life is still going...
how can i go? March 17 about classical guitari was pretty confused about the embarrassing situation of classical guitar in China... generally, when guitar is concerned, many people are thinking of a image of a screaming electronic guitar player, or a handsome guy singing popular songs, but almost no man considers about classical guitar... i have to admit that classical guitar is apparently going down...
we don't usually put a prefix "classical" with piano, violin or even Chinese instrument erhu, pipa, and they actually play classical pieces...but why we put that with guitar? perhaps, i guess, the reason is the development of electronic instrument... well, this classification resulted a funny situation--people think that classical guitar is a instrument that only plays old music... it's quite ridiculous, while that is what the majority knows about...
some classical music fans criticize that classical guitar are not supported by excellent composers... and i have to say they are wrong... from baroque,classical,romantic to modern, classical guitar are able to play well... Bach, Weiss, Scarlatti, Shubert, Paganini, Fella... many excellent composers write for guitar... but according to Becherucci, it is extremely difficult to compose for guitar if the man do not play guitar... and guitar is one of the hardest instrument to learn and play... that scares many learners...
nowadays, classical guitar in China has gone in dilemma... the reason is quite complex... but i guess, the problem is on the players, who are always complaining about the quality of the audience...
most of the classical players concentrate on very difficult pieces, what might be a barrier for the audience... i saw many classical guitar concert catalogues... they are full of difficult pieces like Caprice24, Chaconne, La Catedral, Grant Overture... what might be some great music for professional players and classical fans, but a mixed noise for those beginners...
it was quite a ture story... when i was practising La Catedral in the dorm, with two guitar fans, enjoying ourselves and playing, some others who didn't like it said that was noise... but while we were playing some beautiful and popular piece, like Cavatina, Amor de Romance, the common audience said that was brilliant...
some professional players always scare the audience with some very difficult pieces, and showing their outstanding level of music... it was quite common actually... however, many of them have no idea about their own idea in music... what they are doing just imitating some famous players... they don't think about the music itself, but concentrating on showing off...
i advise them... let's think about music... and i believe classical guitar can play better music in China...
March 04 How i am feeling about VB...Private Sub Command1_Click()
Dim k As String k = "Damn Bad!" For i = 1 To 999 k = k + "My days' ruined by that..." + "Damn bad!" Next i Text1.Text = k End Sub Private Sub Command2_Click()
End End Sub Private Sub Form_Load()
Form1.Caption = "i feel sick about VB" Command1.Caption = "How i feel about VB?" Command2.Caption = "End it,OKAY?" Text1.Text = "" End Sub |
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