21 March 2016

Guest Post: Of New Detached Chinks


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damn a chink made poorhomie MAYBE tear up
some randochink sent poorhomiewei some randomasslucidbullshit writing. goddamn. shit, this bruh writes with "i?" fuck is that shit? bruh a chink don't think this boi militant enough, gotta be crazier
we gon see then. this by that same chink who wrote that essay

Talk of Chinese immigrant identity recalls the image of the power and duty of imagination, of Wallace Stevens’s image of “the mind in the act of finding what will suffice,” as it seems nothing that I am or can be doing is enough to get a Chink out of a mire of tropes and expectations.


first of all, what the fuck is wrong with kan-ye references? why this chink gotta use fucking Wallace fucking “I’m a drunk” stevens? damn bruh, what’s wrong? rap not good enough for your yellow ass? shit fucking use of first person… who is you trying to speak for? YOU MEAN NOTHING CHINKBOI!!!!!!!!!!

lol@ “mire of tropes and expectations”—like who the fuck talk like that? oh shit wait “talk of Chinese immigrant identity” talk like that. shit. boi, you use chink like two sentences down, why can’t you just use the damn word the whole damn time? you probs taking it hard up the 屁股from them honkybois shit. may young thug have shame on you

When I first emigrated from China, I wanted to be a dentist because for my first couple of years away, my dentist was seemingly the only chink I knew who held a professional job (and because I come from a place that has no dentists and a family with poor teeth). And the job would suffice to get me somewhere stable in life. It didn’t take me long to realize that there wasn’t a point in becoming a dentist because becoming a doctor or an accountant would earn even more and be even more respected. And that’s where it comes back to: how to find a life where a chink can be respected, a job that sufficed, not a job that will suffice. But, that respect is in so few outlets. A chink can only do so many things to get that respect and I’ve probably listed about three quarters of them.

lol this chink talkin bout being a dentist FUCKBOI shit, damn “suffice” somebody get this chink a medal lol he knows how to use a thesaurus. damn, this boi know how to crack jokes lol fucking “probably listed about three quarters of them
lol a chink taking some broadsides to them whitemen. good on ya

And there’s nothing really wrong with what’s good enough and expected. On the outside. They are jobs that lead to a better life than the one a chink grows up in. They’re jobs that people respect no matter what race. Those jobs are great because they’re unassuming, because they’re, not easy, but easy to stomach. Because they’re what an obedient chink should do. They won’t lead to any upsetting of a balance already in place. They don’t really call for a chink to find anything. They don’t really live, or try “to learn and use the speech of the place.” They only get to half of Stevens’s line. They suffice and that’s about it. They don’t try to widen the accepted roles for chink in society. And they only suffice for so many.

lets be honest, why THE FUCK is we talking about this poetry bullshit? like damn bruh, you talking bout these whitemen and shit all the time, get over yourself, lets start talking bout some chinks shit. “Those jobs are great because they’re unassuming, because they’re, not easy, but easy to stomach” —lol, bruh, THEY IS EASY. don’t take balls to go become an accountant do it?fuck outta here. also back at it with the “suffice” bullshit.

hol’up, a chink can use that fancy ass whiteboi language too. suffice to say you is a race traitor shit. send you for some struggle sessions. damn

Their scene, the one that had already been set, that repeated what was in the script, never appealed to me. It smothers an entire group of kids already jarred by their dislocated childhood into a conveyor-belt like tunnel where they’re hiding from the constant jeering and shelling of dominant culture. They’re put in the roles that the dominant culture wanted them to play.

their FUCK YOUR METAPHORS (, but a chink hear this loud and clear. good stuff)

I never wanted to be part of that theater and that tunnel. This is the kind of theatre that has yet to even feature a chink in a prominent role, or at least an accessible theater readily available for chink to see. This is the kind of tunnel that would censor a chink’s voice to fit into the dominant culture. The kind of tunnel that’s scared of Jeremy Lin becoming a star. The kind of tunnel that forced a Cantonese immigrant to invent chop suey. Or the tunnel that hangs Peter Liang on a cross and sets Darren Wilson free to eat chow mein. The kind of tunnel that exacerbates the natural eye squint, that exacerbates the natural slouch, that exacerbates the natural ability, that the Chinese are so proud of, to 吃苦 or eat bitterness.

damn this makin a chink tear up, shit 他妈的,你这个王八蛋把老子这么土的个大哥让好好的感动了一回。我操 他妈的

shit. NO. FUCK YOU POORHOMIEWEI, YOU AIN’T GONNA TEAR UP LIKE THAT! YOU TOLD YOUR SELF!!!!!! CHINKS DON’T CRY! HASHTAG THAT shit

I don’t think my parents and I emigrated so that I would have to eat the same kind of bitterness, but then again, if I couldn’t even eat my native kind of Chinese food at school, bitterness was still a marker, and as I thought, a better meal than sandwiches. So I chose to eat a different kind of bitterness. The bitterness they ate, at least, was confined to the literal food. They had identities set. I don’t. A new chink has to construct a new stage. A chink has to be on that stage and, like “an insatiable actor, slowly and with meditation, speak words that in the ear, in the delicatest ear of the mind, repeat, exactly, that which it wants to hear.”

bruh, this make a chink wanna read some poems or shit. goddamn:
妾发初覆额,折花门前剧。
郎骑竹马来,绕床弄青梅。
同居长干里,两小无嫌猜。
十四为君妇,羞颜未尝开。
低头向暗壁,千唤不一回。
十五始展眉,愿同尘与灰。
常存抱柱信,岂上望夫台。
十六君远行,瞿塘滟预堆。
五月不可触,猿声天上哀。
门前迟行迹,一一生绿苔。
苔深不能扫,落叶秋风早。
八月蝴蝶黄,双飞西园草。
感此伤妾心,坐愁红颜老。
早晚下三巴,预将书报家。
相迎不道远,直至长风沙。

So first, I convinced myself, as Mao made famous in an interview with an American journalist, that the dominant western culture was, is, and will be a paper tiger. One that I could unfold and write on. I then chose to take it upon myself to understand the bitterness that fuelled the rise of gangster rap and the reappropriation of their identities that rap allowed.

oooooooooooohhhhhhhhhh

Historically, the Chinese have been well supported by the black community, ranging from Dubois’s idea that “Pan-Africa belongs logically with Pan-Asia” to Wu-Tang Clan’s ignorant, but good-intentionned, appropriation, qua theft, and stereotyping of Chinese monastic culture. So when I first started listening to rap, it wasn’t the same as the white who listens to rap to air their aggression or the one who listens because they find it provocative. It wasn’t to sensationalize something or to try a new flavor. It was to find something to empathize with, the mind in the act of finding something that will suffice to describe how it feels. Now the Chinese experience is nowhere near the black experience in America. But there’s power for a chink to admire, and learn from, in Rap. From NWA reclaiming “nigga” to Kanye reshaping the image of a black man to Kendrick Lamar trying to mature anger into a reevaluation of himself and other blacks. From A Tribe Called Quest being a bunch of teenagers who wanted others to know how it felt being them, being different to Black Star trying make sense of an abstract, detached home, to Outkast just trying to have fun in a world that doesn’t necessarily want them, “just twanging a wiry string that gives sounds passing through sudden rightnesses, wholly containing the mind, below which it cannot descend,   beyond which it has no will to rise. 

✊✊✊✊✊✊✊✊

People then told me I wasn’t black and that I thought I was black. And it didn’t make too much sense to me. As an immigrant, there isn’t a singular culture that I can ascribe to. Natural impulse tends to gather sources indiscriminately to make a new identity. So, black culture made sense to me because I didn’t know why the most successful Chinese people I know are the ones who do what’s expected of them by dominant culture. The natural impulse then leads me to associating with a group of young men who also feel that they can’t do what they want in the world (obviously to a different degree) because they don’t fit with their norm. Hip hop spoke and speaks to me. It makes as much sense to me as a person who wants to see a reflection of themselves, a mind in the act of finding what will suffice as a stranger in a stranger land.

🙏🏿 🙏🏿 🙏🏿 🙏🏿 🙏🏿 🙏🏿

So, for me, the ones who can and do criticize a chink for adopting and immersing in Rap and black culture are “the sound of the land full of the same wind that is blowing in the same bare place.” They’re the ones who want to put a chink in a doctor’s coat, who wants to put a chink in front of a wok, who want to put a chink in a cardboard, foldable box with a red dragon on the front.

And when Chris Rock, fed lines by the Oscars, pointlessly joked about the best chinks being accountants and, maybe most bizarrely, a Jew, I felt nothing. And, I’ll probably always feel like that. Nothing myself, I see and feel nothing that is not there and the nothing that is.

😭 😭 😭 😭 😭 😭 😭 😭 😭 😭 😭 😭 😭
他妈的。你滚开。滚!我他妈的听不进这么些东西。poorhomie不想哭。你他娘的害处大哥的眼泪,把老子的女性抽出来了。滚!

My heart’s aflutter!
I am standing in the bath tub
crying. Mother, mother
who am I? If he
will just come back once
and kiss me on the face
his coarse hair brush
my temple, it’s throbbing!

then I can put on my clothes

I guess, and walk the streets.

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