As I mentioned on day five, there was something of a heat wave going on in the Kanto region. Sure enough, we would feel the force of Mother Nature’s bosom as she crushed us with all 37 degrees of it day six. But what would the high temperatures be without tempting the gods of heatstroke by renting bikes and pedaling around all day?

Feeling like a sack of potatoes about to be turned to hash browns, I made it clear to my comrade that we had to stick to the river paths near the water where it would be cooler, or face our doom. Kyoto has a river that runs from the north of the city down through its heart, and right out of its bearded anus, although we never went down that far. Instead we chilled along the river as many other Kyotoites were doing. Once the mid-day heat was past, we ventured into Gion, where the geishas hang out drinking 40s on the stoops and play dice in the alleys. We didn’t see any, probably because if they were to expose themselves to the heat, all their makeup would melt off exposing themselves as the horribly deformed mutants they are.

After Gion, we checked out the Kennin-ji Zen temple, it was neat but mostly under renovation. There was a whole lot of shoe changing and ill-fitting slipper wearing going on. We also took part in an anti-nuclear protest that was organized by the hideously deformed mutant geishas the Japanese Communist Party. Made my comrade and I feel like we were back home – except back home the Communist party doesn’t need to protest, they do whatever the hell they want. Finally we capped off the day by a trip to the imperial palace, located in a huge park. It reminded me of the Forbidden City in Beijing, but on the contrary, it was actually forbidden to go inside, unlike the Forbidden City, where anyone can go in. The palace itself is closed on weekends, so instead we hung with the hobos. After a short period of time, a squadron of mosquitoes had declared war on our sweet flesh, so we retreated to the north to our homely domicile.

My genius plan had our hotel situated mere minutes from the Shin-Osaka train station, allowing maximum sleep-in time after the previous night’s revelry. The bullet train from there to Kyoto was only 15 minutes give or take. Upon arrival I decided that a taxi would be the most convenient way to get to our ryokan, because like hell my mind or body was in any condition to be navigating to a small Japanese inn in a city complete alien to me.

Just as well, the Kanto Region was experiencing something of a mini heat wave when we arrived. The taxi found our ryokan no problem, but didn’t have change to break 5000 yen note, which was totally weird. Usually Japanese people in a position of money reception never have problems making change, unlike in China where you get exasperated grunts for anything but exact change to the penny.

Our 75 year old ryokan was in a quiet, laid back area of northern Kyoto, had courtyard garden and was well kept. The place was totally geared towards western guests though, so the entire house was plastered with obsessively passive aggressive warnings on what light switch not to touch, where not to hang things and which laundry detergent not to eat. There were so many it was to the point of making me feel like a complete idiot on behalf of whatever western morons stayed there before and did such stupid shit that it warranted sticky notes everywhere. Plus it was killing the vibe.

In the evening we took to the town to explore and chart out some new izakaya joints. If Kyoto has good food, we sure didn’t find it. I tried in vain to locate an old school izakaya joint like the first one from the night before, but all we came up with was a worn out mostly empty place with beers that were too warm and food that was too greasy. We wandered around in circles for a few hours like a couple of confused ducks and marveled at all the restaurants that are hidden away in the alleys. However considering it was Friday night, they were mostly empty and food in this country being an fist in the face of exorbitance, I didn’t feel up for the time honored tradition of pointing randomly at things I couldn’t read on a menu only to be served fruit cake and pigeon pie.

Convenience store food it was, yet again. But not really, because after walking a two mile radius of our ryokan we determined that convenience stores there do not exist. So vending machines it was. Oh well.

First let’s start by stating the obvious, my original plan was to check out all the villages of the 9 Towns 1 City project. For those unfamiliar with it, it was a one of those cockamamie schemes the city government came up with to rejuvenate a bunch of these suburban villages. It’s goal was to transform a bunch of towns into little “European” themed towns that yuppies could flock to, driving developer and thus government revenue from places that were anything but flush with cash. To figure out whether or not this plan was a success, ask yourself this: Who the fuck wants to live an hour outside of downtown in a shit stain quality knock off of a European village with your only connection to the core being a subway line that closes at 10pm? Exactly. Speculators bought up, but no one actually moved in. Check out some of that top caliber construction in the 3rd picture below:

Luckily there was lots of Gaoqiao that was spared the wrecking ball. There’s many buildings from the Qing Dynasty, and the local heritage comittee has even put plaques up on the buildings giving the vital details. The one building in the sign below was dated: 清代 约120年 that I take to mean 120 years into the Qing Dynasty, or 1764. Pretty impressive by Chinese standards. All of these buildings still had people living, working and doing whatever it is they do in there, so it was pretty lively in those backstreets (although they were afraid my camera lens would devour their souls).

There was also lots of buildings that had been molested and defiled by more mordern buildings. You could catch glimpses of these dirty old bastards everywhere.

Some of the buildings even had these cancerous tumors growing on them. Check out the close up of the one below. The only thing that comes to mind are the letters w t and f.

There was also one or two buildings circa colonial times below. Not surprisingly, the old chap held up quite well despite looking like it was meant to hold crazies.

And then came the revival. Lots of new “old” Chinese styled buildings going up. I’m not sure how I feel about these. On one hand they’re certainly better than massively bland apartment blocks and a lack of human scale. On the other hand there’s a tattoo of a midget with a lightning bolts…No wait I mean the jury’s still out. I’m sure there’s bad things about them, but the beer I’m drinking right now is making me sedate.

Finally, all the other styles. Commie blocks, the ubiquitous white tiles (Good god would I love to be the man who owned the factory that made those in the 80′s), 90′s villa style, 00′s highrise and of course the glass and steel office buildings that no neighborhood in Shanghai is complete without.

So I hopped in my chauffeured humvee (which coincidentally fits as many people as a subway train and also is painted blue with name LINE 8 ) and headed into the yonder to see these dying villages and what remains. My first stop was Pujiang Station. Well in reality, my magical humvee also made stops at People’s Square Station, South Tibet Road and several other insignificant places before Pujiang, but I was rocking out to Pulled Apart by Horses at that time.

Here’s how I would think if I lived like a communist: Toilet won’t flush. Well let me see here. Since the place is mine, and what’s mine is yours, and what’s yours is his, and his is the peoples’ and we are the people…now where was I? Oh right…I’ll let another comrade sort the shitter out, where’s my vodka at? I suppose the slow disintegration of the buildings might also have to do with all the handymen being sent to the farms during the general chaos of the Cultural Devolution and the Great Leap Backwards. However I’m going to place my bets on Home Depot having poor hours and shitty service back then.

On with the show.

Pujiang wasn’t totally abandoned. There was still some life along a main street through the middle of the town with shops and people doing a whole lot of nothing. There was also the most ramshable pool hall I have ever seen. Check out the one dude just past out on the table. Actually it was so hot that day I wanted to join him…errr…not on the same table of course. Shut up, you know what I mean.

The biggest problem with these courtyard houses is that there aren’t any. Well none that I can afford anyway. If you want anything decent, you’re looking at upwards of a couple thousand US dollars a month. These ones are renovated with all the traditional woodwork, painting, parking and a couple of pygmies that will pull you in a rickshaw to the Peking Opera.

“BUT THAT’S NOT TRUE, there’s cheap ones out there!” I can hear some of you seasoned Beijing expats whining. Correct. Just like a microcosm of all that is China, the courtyards come in super rich, or super poor styles. The middle class is still confused, insecure and not sure what it is or wants to be. I saw several places that were just slightly within my price range (when they know it’s a foreigner looking for them the price gets jacked), but they were more than just fixer uppers. I mean, most of them looked to be modified by someone who had played Rubik’s cube their whole life but was never able to solve it. Just a complete jumble of rooms that made no sense. Most of the courtyards had been built over with concrete structures that looked fortified enough to withstand airborne attacks.

Often a few of the inner rooms still had some old geezers milling about with their pet pigeons that probably wouldn’t have been down with a bunch of western dudes getting buck wild to rock music and some floozies in the courtyard. But maybe they would have. I guess that will remain one of the great mysteries of our time.

One thing we couldn’t get drilled into the heads of the scheming property agents that were showing us places was that the whole point of having a courtyard home is the fucking courtyard. Why would I want to live in one of these things just for the sake of living here? If not for the courtyard, what is this magic “culture” they keep referring to that makes these places so special? The street cred, so I can be cool and say I lived for a year in one of these damn places and wore a mao suit as pajamas!? Do they think I want to live in this dilapidated area so that I can squat to take a shit next to someone else just to savor the hutong life? Do you think I want to navigate my way severely intoxicated through a series of impassible, unlit, alleyways that have random wires looking to get into the decapitation game just to get home from the bar?

I suppose you could renovate them, make em all nice and old school, get rid of those squatter toilets with the bucket of water for the flush, make the geezers hit the bricks and hook it up some pygmies to do your bidding. I also suppose your landlord would then quickly find a way to void your rental contract, make you hit the bricks, jack the rent, and charge a couple grand for it just like all the other renovated ones.

Yeah yeah yeah, history and architecture is fantastic and all, but honestly, most of them have been scarred beyond recognition. The ones that have been properly renovated are stuck in disneyesque tourist zones that require you to wade through tons of “oh isn’t this quaint” retards snapping photos of shops selling overpriced gimmicky bullshit that has nothing to do with the hutong life, culture or even common sense.

Well my solution to the ordeal was to say fuck the courtyards, fuck the hutongs, fuck the scheming agents and landlords and most of all fuck Beijing. If I’m going to get shanghaied might as well do it…in Shanghai! Longtangs here I come!

Standing in the shadow of the Toronto Chinese Consulate and gazing on, insane asylum and a fortress both come to mind. A quick ID check at the gate house and I slid past the 10 foot high spiked fence to the courtyard, where pasted up against the walls are faded pictures of various Chinese accomplishments, like rocket launches and some guy playing a broken banjo. You may assume that the security around the building is to keep all the crazy FG protesters out. Wrong. The real reason is so that they can keep all the visa applicants IN.

Just after I take a deep breath to open the door and brace myself for the onslaught of humanity, some sneaky bastard cuts in front of me, throws the door open in my face, and gets into the line that was now spilling outside of the building.

90% of people in line were Chinese, who you would think have been to China at least once before, yet for some reason, none of them had the forms filled out, and they often cut in and out of the line to get missing pages, photocopies, passport photos and whatever other forged documents they needed to make sure that when they go back the Chinese government doesn’t repossess them.

As I stood there waiting for what seemed like hours, and then days passed by, the sour stench of restless bodies encircled my head, making me dream of having one of those buttons that you can press to make everyone incinerate and implode at the same time, taking their smells with them. Oh you’ve never tried one of those buttons? They’re rad, but Doomsday Depot was sold out last I checked.

The little hellions running around, crying, grabbing other people’s applications and then putting them in their mouths provided some entertainment at first, but grew old quick, and ultimately had me calling my doctor’s office to book a vasectomy.

Then there’s the sketchy white dudes that look like sex tourists. No scratch that. It couldn’t be anymore obvious that these guys ARE sex tourists, what with their constant leering at every female present, to their mustaches and outdated fashion that although being really trendy right now, still looks like they just finished serving 15 years for child molestation. I can only hope that these losers take home some bianxings and wind up with more than they bargained for. Two balls and a dick more than they bargained for.

The worst are the agents. The agents are people who work for travel or tour companies, or visa services that have a huge stack of visa applications to go through. Right when I’ve got one person left in front of me, and I think I’ve almost escaped from this dungeon of despair, buddy ahead of me pulls a huge stack of visa applications out of his pants like he’s a fucking kangaroo. Then of course after checking and double checking all the forms, the consular person determines that John Lee’s name should be spelt Jon Li, and then cue the agent on the phone with the guy, yelling at each other for like 15 minutes. All the while I’m wishing that there was an armed PLA officer stationed here so he could ʈianamen square my ass.

Finally I got to the window, slid my application and my passport under, and before I have a chance to ask when I can pick it up, the lady hands me a slip and says “Come get it next Monday”. At that point, I was thinking of asking things like, “hows your salary?”, “what’s your take on Obama’s medicare bill?” or “why are you wearing arm warmers over a winter jacket?” It was one of those times where you’ve spent so long in line, and that the service you get is so little, that you feel like making shit up just to get your time’s worth. With what little sanity I had remaining, I decided against it, because at the end of the day if I wanted to have any left, I’d need to go while the going was good. There would be plenty more opportunities to lose my mind the next week, when I would be stuck in the pickup line that was twice as long.

Americans should realize that First Amendment does not apply to China. It is a whole different culture, different system and I think Americans should respect that. This is like imposing your values on a group of people who needs to be governed in a different way. If Americans have learned anything in the last century, it is to stop interfering with other cultures. Period.

-Karen Zhou from Toronto

This comment would almost be perfectly agreeable if it weren’t for what it’s commenting on, which is clearly defined in that first sentence. Now here’s probably one of the best ever reply to comments I’ve seen posted. And it absolutely OWNS Karen.

Karen Zhou (from page 1), I am all too familiar with the kind of knee-jerk ignorant “patriotism” you cling to. I am Chinese-American, and during my time in college (I recently graduated), I noticed that a good number of my mainland Chinese colleagues would gripe about Internet censorship while vacationing back home (they would, of course, try to climb the Great Firewall). Yet when they returned to the US for classes, they would go nuts if anyone–especially Chinese–dared to speak ill of China’s lack of freedom in this or that area. They would harangue the US, deriding it as imperialist with terms reminiscent of Maoist ‘struggle’ sessions.

Karen, since I can tell from your last name that you are probably of the mainland, let me give you some news: You are the cream of the crop. You’ve made it overseas. You understand English. Please, don’t try to paternalistically speak for the hundreds of millions of ordinary Chinese who still live in the mainland and don’t enjoy the freedoms you do in Canada. You probably have more in common with the average Canadian than the average factory worker or farmer in China who actually has legitimate grievances to air against the government.

Your argument is specious in another respect. Chinese folks the likes of you love to lecture about how “Chinese culture” is supposedly based upon uniformity of belief. Well, let’s see. If that’s the case, then have the people in Taiwan been “violating” Chinese culture? After all, Taiwan has preserved traditional Chinese culture far more than the mainland has (think Cultural Revolution). How about Hong Kong? Upon reverting to China, the mainland granted them a “Basic Law” giving them relative freedom of speech. So is HK also somehow “un-Chinese”? How about Chinese communities abroad in the Americas and in Europe? You and I live in Western nations and we both probably identify with a local Chinese community. Now, the Chinese government claims that if it were to allow Internet freedom, then the Chinese people would fall into instability and disorder. Let me ask you: Of all the challenges we Chinese face in the West, when was the last time your Chinese community was torn apart by Internet freedom? Hmm? Are your Chinese friends feeling helpless because they can’t cope with Internet freedom?

You write that allowing Internet freedom “is like imposing your values on a group of people who needs to be governed in a different way.” Let me ask you: Where did the ideology that underlies the CCP originate from? You know, Marxism-Leninism? I’m pretty well-versed in Chinese history, and I just don’t think we made that crock up! And if you say that Chinese have their own unique way of governance, then why haven’t Chinese like you been calling for a restoration of the dynastic system? That was our unique way of governing ourselves for oh, I don’t know, 5,000 years–until a bunch of middle-class populists (Mao & Co.) decided that China ought to violently throw out its political system and institute one conceived of by..Germans! Very original, eh? (Note: If you didn’t get the sarcasm, I don’t actually advocate returning to being ruled by emperors. But you should!)

What I discovered in college, Karen, was that Chinese who think like you actually have some sort of an “inferiority country complex.” You guys are reluctant to criticize the government of your motherland because of one or a combination of four main factors. One, the government probably helped you and your family become successful. That’s why you can afford to come overseas and “represent” the masses–you don’t want to bite the hand that fed you. Two, you somehow think that if you criticize the CCP less, foreigners will follow. Three, you were educated in China, and therefore didn’t have access to a lot of censored material people elsewhere have that reflects poorly upon the CCP. Four, you are ashamed of certain aspects of China’s development and think that admitting them to Westerners would bring shame on China as a nation. (As if Westerners didn’t already know!)

None of these reasons, however, are justifiable excuses for being knee-jerk nationalistic. When I studied abroad in China, I did not go there with the sort of national arrogance that many “patriotic” mainland Chinese tend to have here in America. I made a distinction between the US government and US society. I was not afraid to discuss the respective shortcomings–and strengths–of both entities. People like you, however, conflate the two, and therein lies great danger. Karen, we Chinese have much to be proud of in our traditional culture and values. But appreciating Chinese culture need not, and is not, equivalent to a need to blindly defend the Chinese government at all costs, as if it were representative of the Chinese people (not). That is a lie perpetuated by the Chinese government, and it is really quite sad that otherwise educated Chinese like you have eagerly bought into it. Go talk with some real netizens in China!

-eyc from NJ

There you have it. If that wasn’t a smackdown, then I’m a roast goose. If only the US gov could pop a few cans of spinach and take it to the Chinese gov’t like that. Hillary Clinton could learn something here.

The reason why I post this, is that I want to remember it. Far too often I run into mainlanders that think like Karen. They’re unable to differentiate between criticisms against the Chinese Gov’t and the Chinese people, and their panties get all bunched up like frozen chickpeas. They think it’s no business of non-Chinese to be interfere in such affairs. Well they can suck on a lemon. Just who do they think they are to be meddling in our meddlings?!

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THE STEEL INDUSTRY

This set of stamps is a commemoration of the steel industry. But what isn’t so obvious is what the stamps depict. Thankfully we have a 1200dpi scanner and my imagination on our side, while the stamps have nothing but fading ink on theirs.

5-4 In this image, there’s a glorious steel bar pressing machine, with happy employees working away. The machine looks to be operating on the main floor of hell, what with the inferno in the background. Lady talking on the phone seems to be pretty impressed, probably because she’s got a scroll in her hand that has the sacred recipes for the best satanic pizza you’ll ever know.

5-3 This stamp is straightforward. I mean it’s a giant bucket of molten steel being dumped into another giant bucket of molten steel. Look at the one dude who’s waving at the steel though, if I’m not mistaken that’s definitely a towel around his shoulder, which makes me wonder if he really thinks that he’ll be able to wipe off some molten steel, should it drip on to him. Idiot, he should know the best way to clean off molten steel is with tide to go.

5-5 Here we have a bunch of long steel rods all over the place, a train missing its caboose, a factory in the background and some guys yelling to get the rods inserted in the right places. The boring blue sky is a urine yellow thanks to the steel mill.

5-2 It looks like buddy’s machine blew up or something and started spewing molten liquid steel all over the place. The employees aren’t looking very concerned and I don’t even think they care. Must be unionized. They’re definitely poking it with those metal poles though. I’m not sure how helpful that would be, but I’m no steelworker so for all I know that’s exactly what you do when molten steel spills all over the floor and you’re about re-enact the final scene of Terminator 2.

5-1 This train was recently attacked by combination of Uighur suicide bombers and Japanese kamikaze pilots; it’s definitely seen better days. This stamp reminds people that these two groups of people must be demonized and destroyed at all costs…even if it means wearing crocs, or even worse, crocs with socks.

As it turns out, if you look at these stamps in their proper numerical order, instead of the arbitrary one I’ve given them, they represent the entire steel making process. 炼焦, 炼铁, 炼钢, 轧钢, 成品. And that would be: coke-making, iron smelting, steel making, steel rolling and the finished product. Nevertheless, that isn’t a very interesting way of looking at them, it’s far more enjoyable to pretend they’re scenes from Dante’s Inferno aka Communist China.

WEIRD SCIENCE

This set features four stamps, with distinct colours for each stamp. Each stamp has some kind of technology going on in the main image but in the bottom third there is also a little image outline in a little square. I have no idea what the fuck these are. I will try my best to interpret everything so that if some day monkeys can read, they will know what these stamps mean and how they relate to communism…or banana milkshakes.

Orange: dual tape recorders with a giant gear in the background, possibly some laser beams shooting randomly and a spark from God knows what kind reaction, maybe one of the lasers accidently shot the gear. Small image in the corner looks like a very primitive robotic arm cruising around a skateboard. The tape recorders signify the government having greater power to record conversations and spy on people. The gear is a classic communist symbol what with us being the cogs and all. The lasers are punishment for being caught talking nasty on the phone and being recorded by one of those tape recorders. The spark is of course what happens to your head when the laser hits it, but they seemed to have censored out the brains and skull fragments that would be part of it. The skateboarding arm is actually on its way to get attached to someone who was accidentally targeted by one of the lasers.

Green: a tractor spraying fertilizer/pesticide on fields in between rows of genetically modified trees (you can tell right away that they’re GMO because they all look exactly the same.) In the background there is a crop duster aircraft being piloted remotely by the operator of the tractor or a very intelligent chipmunk. Small image in the corner looks like a gear with a bug’s eyes and nose in the middle. The main image demonstrates that even 30 years ago, Chinese farmers were universally using advance crop science and mechanization to ensure top quality products. The small image more than likely is a warning to humans that us “cogs” will soon be controlled by an all powerful insect overlord, who will make us all farmers, or perhaps farm us as rations for his brood.

Red: We’ve got ourselves a fine strategic nuclear warhead, a nuclear submarine, a group of four paper airplanes being tossed off by someone who clearly doesn’t give a damn and concentric circles around the sun. The small image is a bulky and ineffective satellite dish, used by CCTV to broadcast their brainwashing all around the world. The circles around the sun identify it as the target of the ICBN from the sub, because obviously the red sun represents Japan and everyone knows that China loves Japan so much; they want to give them a nice big nuclear hug. The paper planes are actually an accurate representation of China’s air force at the time, before they upgraded to balsa wood and the current rabid seagulls.

Blue: Atoms spinning around a green nucleus, with sparkling stars in the background, and a double helix replicating itself in the foreground. Small image is difficult to decipher but I’ve narrowed it down to either a medieval warrior helmet, a squid amputee, or quite possibly the shortest, stubbiest rocket to ever be conceived by the human race. After a good long think about meaning these two incredibly symbolic images represent, their impact on the human race and particularly China at this point in history and their use in the future, it finally dawned on me. They mean nothing at all. The sparkles are just there to add pizzazz, kind of like how a 16-year-old girl going out to the bar puts sparkles all over her face in an attempt to look mature, but instead they scream JAILBAIT. The confounding thing in the corner is visible proof that when China wants to make something that people simple cannot understand regardless of how much they try and think about it, they can, with ease. This ability would be put to use often in the 20th and 21st centuries.

1960 “The Birds of Communist Paradise” 中苏反好同盟互助条约签订十周年

This stamp is a glorious contradiction, making it not so different from the concept of communism itself. It actually commemorates 10 years since the signing of an alliance between China and the Soviet Union. If I may, allow me to transcribe what the Chinese are really saying to the Russians: “yeah you can send off as many of those little messenger pigeons as you want, the second your big noses are pointing in another direction we’re gonna hunt them down and cook us up some 黄山炖鸽. By the way, thanks for helping us build all those machine gun factories and nuclear weapons.” Of course the sino-soviet relationship had already gone off the rails at this point, but you gotta give the Chinese credit for playing cool/dumb until the very moment shit hits the fan.

1963 “You’re looking at the Huang Mountain” 莲花峰 迎客松 西海云潮

When browsing through stamps from the 60s, the propaganda slowly started to give way to natural scenes of China, such as these chilled out drawings of different parts of Huangshan mountain. The three I’ve got here are part of a larger series that features about eight or so different “scenic spots” at the mountain. My feelings towards the “scenic spots” regardless, I wish I coulda checked out Huangshan back in the day before the red hat brigades came marching in to take it over.

1964 “Silent But Deadly” 炼油

Still proud of their industry, it wasn’t hard to find more stamps featuring factories, refineries and other industrial buildings that might have fit well in a Super Mario level. China treated industry like a rapper who just topped the charts treats money…flaunt that shit like it’s going out style. But for China, industry never went out of style, factories are still growing as fast as the US trade deficit is, gobbling up the shit they manufacture in the process. I especially like how they put those red commie flags on top of the refinery. You know everyone gets their fair share of that oil. Just some get fairer shares than others.

1964 “Dam Invisible Friends” 新安水电站

According to the titles of the stamps, these two are images of the Xin’an River Hydroelectric Station. Unfortunately I tried searching for this structure on Wikipedia so that I could find the significance of it, and why it merits it not one but several stamps commemorating it, but was I couldn’t find an article about it. As we all know, if it ain’t on Wikipedia, then it sure as shuttlecock don’t exist. Just goes to show ya, China loves dams so much their making up imaginary ones just so they can put them on stamps.

1964 “Brothers From Other Mothers” 庆祝非洲自由日

After googling around I learned that African Liberation Day is the 25th of May. In the late 50’s and early sixties after most African countries got emancipated from their colonial overlords they all got together with some beers and strippers to celebrate. The whole lot of ‘em had such a blast that they decided to make it an annual thing. Or something like that. What I do know is despite China apparently wishing Africans well with the issue of this stamp, many Chinese still look down on people with darker melanin. You don’t even have to look farther than this very stamp to see it, I mean look at the way the Chinese guy is dressed, with a modern jacket, a Mao hat and even some snazzy sunglasses that I’m sure will come in handy when he turns around to face that giant ball of fire behind him. Poor black fella on the other hand is wearing nothing but goddamn bed sheets. What’s up with that? I don’t even think African tribal people wear that. The only possibility is that African Liberation Day has one hell of a toga party and only China is in on the secret. Also note how the Chinese guy is looking strait ahead, while the black guy is looking off, almost like he’s wondering what the hell he’s got himself into. Well my roman robed friend, you got yourself a sweet deal on some Chinese arms in exchange for whatever natural resources you’ve got left.

I set out on a mission to acquire a small collection of PRC stamps from years past. My first foray to the obvious destination of the post office turned out to be unsurprisingly useless. There, they only sell current stamps used for postage, or recently printed collector sets in ludicrous display cases that outweighed the face value of the stamps by several orders of galactic magnitude.

After further trolling around the internets I managed to locate a small back alley type area off of Qingdao’s cultural street (昌乐路). For those out of the loop, many Chinese cities have these cultural streets, or districts that are filled with stores selling reproductions of classic art, giant posters of grass script Chinese poetry, and weird jade formations that look like translucent green feces. It was an easy to miss back alley, but once I ventured past the gates, there was a whole swarm of shops selling eclectic junk like old coins, stamps, bank notes, and magical scrolls for summoning drunken bureaucrats.

I tried to get a selection of stamps spanning the years since the dawn of the PRC. From the time of Mao’s witch hunts for landlords and merchants, to the present days of the CPC’s witch hunts for proletariat and porno, my objective was to see how China pictured itself during different generations. Collecting the physical stamps I could care less about. What I was after was the design and the images, so I scanned them all high rez style and put them here for everyone to ogle over.

1954 “Everyone Loves Communism” （中华人民共和国第一届全国人民代表大会）

This is the oldest stamp I bought, fresh from 1954. This perfect example of communist art has it all, red ink , the cheering masses, industrious factories, and a humongous hydroelectric dam. All this for a bargain face value of 800 Yuan. Assuming that was the price today, the average farmer could easily afford to send one letter, and then spend the rest of the month starving to death. So you better recognize that 1954 had inflation like a blow up doll. Also less obvious is the Chinese writing using traditional characters, instead of the simplified ones that didn’t get shoved down everyone’s throat until a few years after this stamp was made.

1957-59 “I’m in yur reactor, steelin yur secrets”
(武汉长江大桥，原子反应堆，回旋加速器 and unnamed pinko industrial scene)

I liked the drawing style of the first three stamps above, even though only two of them are from the same series, they all comically feature things developed in China with significant help from the Soviets. The Wuhan Yangtze River Bridge, atomic reactors, particle accelerators, all from Russia with love of course. I’d like to know what the average Chinese farmer would’ve thought of the particle accelerator and reactor stamps at the time. I mean, back then they wouldn’t even be able to contemplate what a particle is, yet alone a machine that accelerates the fuckin things. Hell, I didn’t even know what they were without looking at the titles (ok ok, I didn’t even know what they were after reading the titles, I had to google that shit). Going into the peasant mindset (aka normal everyday thinking for me), I would have to say the reactor looks like one bitchin mantou oven, and the particle accelerator looks like someone let the engineers drink too much rice wine again. As for the last stamp with all the lovely smokestacks, again I remind you, that perpetual blanket of smog that shrouds most of Asia, it’s been something they’ve been working on there for a while now.