Artifice and pageantry were roundly mocked online.
The political event opened yesterday as more than 2,000 delegates from across the country filled the cavernous Great Hall of the People. The keynote was President Hu Jintao's final major political report, a speech that dragged on for 100 minutes with colorless recitation, though he reportedly went off script a few times. The address itself, which many have already analyzed, I will get to later. First, the stagecraft.
For every major Communist Party occasion, most of all the congress, several set pieces must be present: podium wrapped in flowers, minorities in their ethnic garb, sprinkling of female delegates, sleeping octogenarians, and bored leaders. The congress' opening ceremony did not disappoint on any of these fronts.
Podium with flowers!
Minorities AND women!
Courtesy of the China Media Project, those images of former President Jiang Zemin wishing he were somewhere else became an instant Internet meme. It was of course also swiftly taken down by the censors after appearing on Weibo.
I don't blame him. It was just as soul-crushing watching the live stream of the speech. And judging by the flood of Chinese reporters who rushed out of the event and fought over the prepared transcripts suggests that many in that hall weren't paying much attention, either. In fact, the scene inside the hall was reminiscent of a typical undergraduate class in a Chinese university, where students are falling asleep or texting. No matter, the professor marches on.
So what was the general reaction then?
Here I turn to Helen Gao, who used to blog on China on this very site but has since returned to Beijing (and who also supplied some of the above photos). She sent me some dispatches after having endured the CCTV wrap-up of the event. Other than the usual endless shots of the panoply of leaders, the broadcast just happened upon "a delegate named Guo Mingyi who, with red eyes and glasses pushed to his forehead, said that he finished listening to the report with tears in his eyes." Surprising given that Hu is one of the most emotionless Chinese leaders in recent memory.
The official Weibo account of the state-run People's Daily was also busy tweeting political neologisms to capture the ideological essence of the Hu report:
--"eight upholds": must uphold the primary position of the people; must uphold the liberalization and development of society's productive forces; must uphold reform and opening up; must uphold the protection of social fairness and justice; must uphold walking down the path of common prosperity; must uphold the promotion of social harmony; must uphold peaceful development; must hold the party's leadership.
--"five in one": comprehensively integrate building economy, building political system, building culture, building society, and building ecological soundness into a unifying arrangement (very Confucian).
--"four senses": strengthen the sense of urgency; strengthen the sense of innovation; strengthen the sense of purpose; strengthen the sense of mission.
The official tweets' earnestness sounded nothing like what actual Chinese people were tweeting during the event. Here's a sampling of the snark:
Laoxushiping: Watching the 18th PC live on TV,
and seeing so many energetic-looking leaders with sleek, dark hair sitting on
the stage strategizing China's
future, how could I not be confident?
imported hair product, consuming special food and breathing filtered air, they
are elite human beings indeed! I am absolutely confident.
Yamoli: What brand of
hair dye do you think the high majesties use? I also want it, but doctors say
they may contain cancer-causing elements. Why are the high majesties not
No sartorial rogue to be found here, though Wu Bangguo -- the head of the National People's Congress and fourth from the left -- has decided to take his chances with a blue tie. The pageantry's self-seriousness drew mockery from ordinary Chinese, especially now that the Chinese public can easily compare it to the projected images from the just-concluded U.S. election. Indeed, President Obama's victory remained the leading trending topic on Weibo yesterday -- not the congress.
But do not fear, following the Scientific Development Concept will lead to splendid achievement for China, as one People's Daily editorial breathlessly proclaimed. Indeed, unwaveringly pursuing socialism with Chinese characteristics is the only course for China, as Hu reiterated again, echoing themes that he affirmed in July. The only problem is the Chinese public no longer has any idea what socialism with Chinese characteristics means nor how to follow it.
Damien Ma is a fellow at the Paulson Institute, where he focuses on investment and policy programs, and on the Institute's research and think-tank activities. Previously, he was a lead China analyst at Eurasia Group, a political risk research and advisory firm.
Black poverty is fundamentally distinct from white poverty—and so cannot be addressed without grappling with racism.
There have been a number of useful entries in the weeks since Senator Bernie Sanders declared himself against reparations. Perhaps the most clarifying comes from Cedric Johnson in a piece entitled, “An Open Letter To Ta-Nehisi Coates And The Liberals Who Love Him.” Johnson’s essay offers those of us interested in the problem of white supremacy and the question of economic class the chance to tease out how, and where, these two problems intersect. In Johnson’s rendition, racism, in of itself, holds limited explanatory power when looking at the socio-economic problems which beset African Americans. “We continue to reach for old modes of analysis in the face of a changed world,” writes Johnson. “One where blackness is still derogated but anti-black racism is not the principal determinant of material conditions and economic mobility for many African Americans.”
As Coldplay blandly strained for the universal, she and Bruno Mars pulled off something more specific and more daring.
What a perfect Beyoncésong name: “Formation.” All great pop involves people acting in formation. So does all great change. And while fans scream that Beyoncé’s a “queen” and “goddess,” her core appeal really is as a drill sergeant. With Beyoncé in command, greatness is scalable, achievable, for the collective. Everyone waves their hands to the same beat. Everyone walks around like they have hot sauce in their bag.
But in pop and in politics, “everyone” is a loaded term. Stars as ubiquitous as Beyoncé have haters, the “albino alligators” who “Formation” informs us she twirls upon. And in a more general historical sense, “everyone” can be a dangerous illusion that elevates one point of view as universal while minimizing others. Beyoncé gets all of this, it seems. As a pop star, she surely wants to have as broad a reach as possible. But as an artist, she has a specific message, born of a specific experience, meaningful to specific people. Rather than pretend otherwise, she’s going to make art about the tension implied by this dynamic. She’s going to show up to Super Bowl with a phalanx of women dressed as Black Panthers.
The former president’s heated assault on Bernie Sanders is a reminder of how the Clintons have long reacted to any opposition.
One of my oldest Hillary Clinton memories: Twenty-six years ago, I stood in the second-floor rotunda of the Arkansas Capitol half-listening to a news conference by Tom McRae, an earnest Democrat challenging Governor Bill Clinton for re-election. Then I heard it: Click. Clack. Click. Clack. Click. Clack.
The sound of Hillary Clinton’s low-heeled shoes on a hidden marble hallway jarred McRae, who in 1990 was Bill Clinton’s biggest obstacle to a fifth term and a presidential bid two years later. The first lady of Arkansas rounded the corner and stormed his news conference. “Tom!” she shouted. “I think we oughta get the record straight!”
Waving a sheaf of papers, Hillary Clinton undercut McRae’s criticism of her husband’s record by pointing to McRae’s past praise of the governor. It was a brutal sandbagging. “Many of the reports you issued not only praise the governor on his environmental record,” she said, “but his education and his economic record!”
For decades the Man of Steel has failed to find his groove, thanks to a continual misunderstanding of his strengths.
Superman should be invincible. Since his car-smashing debut in 1938, he’s starred in at least one regular monthly comic, three blockbuster films, and four television shows. His crest is recognized across the globe, his supporting cast is legendary, and anybody even vaguely familiar with comics can recount the broad strokes of his origin. (The writer Grant Morrison accomplished it in eight words: “Doomed Planet. Desperate Scientists. Last Hope. Kindly Couple.”) He’s the first of the superheroes, a genre that’s grown into a modern mass-media juggernaut.
And yet, for a character who gains his power from the light of the sun, Superman is curiously eclipsed by other heroes. According to numbers provided by Diamond Distributors, the long-running Superman comic sold only 55,000 copies a month in 2015, down from around 70,000 in 2010—a mediocre showing even for the famously anemic comic-book market. That’s significantly less than his colleague Batman, who last year moved issues at a comparatively brisk 150,000 a month. Mass media hasn’t been much kinder: The longest-running Superman television show, 2001’s Smallville, kept him out of his iconic suit for a decade. Superman Returns recouped its budget at the box office, but proved mostly forgettable.2013’s Man of Steel drew sharp criticism from critics and audiences alike for its bleak tone and rampaging finale. Trailers for the sequel, Batman v Superman: Dawn of Justice, have shifted the focus (and top billing) to the Dark Knight. Worst of all, conventional wisdom puts the blame on Superman himself. He’s boring, people say; he’s unrelatable, nothing like the Marvel characters dominating the sales charts and the box office. More than anything, he seems embarrassing. Look at him. Truth? Justice? He wears his underwear on the outside.
Humbled by his struggling presidential campaign, can the once-mighty New Jersey governor vault back into contention after Saturday’s debate?
SALEM, New Hampshire—Chris Christie was accustomed to being a big man: a man of stature, a man of power, a man who demands and gets his way.
But recently, the big man (this is a description of his personality, not his size) was seeming awfully small.
On Friday evening here, the governor of New Jersey was desperately trying to talk some sense into the people of New Hampshire, a couple hundred of whom had come out to see him on a snowy night. The night before, Christie’s rival Marco Rubio had played the same venue, filling a larger room of the elementary school beyond its capacity. Christie was begging the crowd not to pile on the bandwagon of the apparent winner, but instead, to show some courage.
Will the Democratic Party nominate a candidate who hasn’t been a member of their party, and who has long denounced it?
When a party chooses its presidential candidate, it also chooses its party leader in the election. This year the Democrats face an unusual situation. Bernie Sanders isn’t just an outsider to the party establishment; he’s not even been a member of the party, and has long excoriated it in unsparing language. Although the media haven’t much focused on this history, the early signs suggest it could become a problem for Sanders in getting the nomination—and a problem for the party if he does get it.
According to the entrance polls at the Iowa caucuses, there was a 30-percentage-point split between self-identified Democrats and independents in their support for Sanders. Hillary Clinton won 56 percent of self-identified Democrats but only 26 percent of independents, while Sanders won only 39 percent of Democrats but 69 percent of independents.
Immediately, the pings from fellow journalists (and media-adjacent folk) came pouring in, all saying something along the lines of, “Can you actually let me know what you find out? I’m addicted to that stuff.”
They mean “addicted” in the jokey, dark-chocolate-and-Netflix-streaming way, but the habit can border on pathological. For me, rock bottom was a recent, obscenely long workday during which an entire 12-pack of coconut La Croix somehow made it down my throat, can by shining can.
Tracking them down is a globe-trotting adventure that rivals any jungle expedition.
In the darkness of the Akeley Hall of Mammals, swarms of kids gawk at beautifully staged dioramas of Africa’s wildlife. The stuffed safari, nestled in the American Museum of Natural History (AMNH) in New York, includes taxidermied leopards stalking a bush pig, preserved ostriches strutting in front of warthogs, and long-dead baboons cautiously considering a viper. In one corner, in a display marked “Upper Nile Region,” a lone hippo grazes next to a herd of lechwe, roan antelope, and a comically stern shoebill stork.
“This is my favorite one,” says Evon Hekkala, pointing to the display. “There’s a taxidermied crocodile tucked away down there.”
It takes a while to spot it and I have to crane my head to do so, but yes, there it is—a large crocodile, in the back, mouth agape, next to the hippo. It’s mostly hidden from view, and until recently, it was hidden from science, too.
Because it’s an old tired man perplexed by modernity, and it’s having trouble pooping.
Each year, the great minds that sell us so many of our beloved consumer staples get together to assess the state of the American psyche. Is America tired? Hangry? Missing the golden age of Bruces Willis and Springsteen, the Buick GNX, and avuncular sexism?
Believe it or not, this meeting happens not at a Madison Avenue steakhouse, or atop a mountain in Jackson Hole, or even in Papa John Schnatter’s meteor-crater lair. Instead, it plays out in full view of the American public during the 47 hours or so of television advertisements that punctuate the Super Bowl. As the nation’s burliest athletes wrestle each other’s lycra-clad bodies for control of that most potent symbol of fragile masculinity (literally an ovoid ball), corporations take stock of a more general struggle happening off the pitch: an existential crisis that concerns the very fabric of the American character.
In Homs, Syria, where entire city blocks have been reduced to rubble by years of civil war, a Syrian wedding photographer thought of using the destruction of the city as a backdrop for pictures of newlywed couples “to show that life is stronger than death.”
In Homs, Syria, where entire city blocks have been reduced to rubble by years of civil war, a Syrian wedding photographer thought of using the destruction of the city as a backdrop for pictures of newlywed couples “to show that life is stronger than death,” according to AFP photographer Joseph Eid. Here, Nada Merhi, 18, and her husband, Syrian army soldier Hassan Youssef, 27, pose for a series of wedding pictures amid heavily damaged buildings in Homs on February 5, 2016.