So….. My brother and I randomly sat down to try our hand at a podcast!
Sadly, I think I derailed some of the finer points he was trying to make, but oh well, it was fun to make.
Here’s hoping we do it again sometime!
So, I don’t know about you, but I actually tried to make something of Halloween this year.
When I was a kid I did the whole Trick or Treat-ing thing, but in the years since, I’ve kind of treated Halloween as just another lonely and awkward day on the calendar.
Deep down I really wanted to make an effort to have a Halloween this year, but I have a problem that one could describe as “lacking balls,” so I decided to tag along with my good friend Mencius (who had to twist my arm just to make me leave the house) on an aimless trek through the night.
That being said, here’s a bullet-ed breakdown of my Halloween, from start to finish:
Went to Unemployment Office for mandatory meeting.
Got bored during meeting, drew Gamera on my pamphlet.
Went home, resumed watching Batman Returns.
Got call from Mencius around the time Batman Wilhelms that one dude and blows up the strong man.
Got to the part when Penguin is controlling the Batmobile, got call from friend, hopped on bus to card shop.
Played 2 rounds of Magic, went 1-1 against a vastly superior deck.
Missed bus back home, had to run 2.5 miles home in time to rendezvous with Mencius.
Headed down to Capitol Hill with Mencius, he dressed as “Alternative Medicine,” and me wearing a non-costume in the form of my official Azn Badger t-shirt.
Conservative Jewish Batman expressed sexual frustration regarding female Seattlites, as well as Liberals in general.
Many topics were discussed, ranging from comics, to videogames, to politics and economics, though for Conservative Jewish Batman, everything always came back to Reddit AKA “That One Place On The Internet I Never Go.”
Sighted an Asian man in the bar that was “living the dream.”
"Living the Dream": Being an Asian man dating an attractive white and/or blonde girl.
Decided to call it a night, had long and fruitful conversation with Mencius regarding frustration over white people utilizing random Japanese words in English conversation.
It was decided that “Toki Doki” was the most annoying of said Japanese-isms.
You see, I’ve been a fan of boxing ever since the first time I watched Rocky with my old man; but up until 2005, there were no active Asian, or more specifically; Japanese fighters that caught my interest as being noteworthy in the sport.
Sure, Toshiaki Nishioka and Daisuke Naito were, and are pretty good fighters; but nothing about them ever seemed competitive on the world stage I.E. the elite level of the sport.
The simple fact of the matter is that boxing simply isn’t all that popular in Japan, nor do I believe the Japanese physiology is all that well-suited for the sport in the first place.
We’re short, we’ve got stubby limbs, we’ve got a reputation for being pillow-fisted, and we have a tendency to grope/fondle others in public.
Pictured: How we say "hello."
Bullshit aside, a major factor in the stunted progress of Japanese boxing, is the simple fact that the country is an island nation.
Combine the insane travel arrangements required to put fights together on Japanese soil between a foreigner and a national, with the public’s general lack of interest in the sport; and you have an equation that results in Japanese fighters rarely having the opportunity to test their mettle against the world’s best, nor having the in-house competition available to them to prepare them for said contests.
Needless to say, most of what I read (I never got to see an Asian boxer on TV until Manny Pacquiao’sHBO debut) about Japanese fighters consisted of Ring Magazine articles about them getting flattened by Mexicans, or worse yet, beaten by their countrymen in boring 12 round jab-fests.
That all changed for me when I discovered the Kobe based bantamweight, Hozumi Hasegawa.
Not a handsome man by any standard, but a good fighter nonetheless...
Hasegawa first caught my attention when he dethroned long-reigning bantamweight champion, Veeraphol Sahaprom.
To put things in perspective, Sahaprom had held the bantamweight title since 1998, not to mention had fought Toshiaki Nishioka 4 times prior to this, drawing and decisioning Nishioka on every occasion.
While the man had the kind of bloated record that only Thai fighters can produce in this day and age, few could argue that Sahaprom was a stiff challenge to any bantamweight of the time.
Seriously though, only a Thai could be so audacious as to defend his world title against debuting fighters, or worse yet, 0-1 fighters; on multiple occasions no less.
Hasegawa’s victory over Sahaprom would serve as the first of many happy moments I would be proud to witness as a half-Japanese boxing fan.
Pictured: The face of a half-Japanese boxing fan. That's right, we do exist!
For the first time in my life, I had found a contemporary Japanese fighter that was not only winning consistently, but seemingly growing and improving with every bout.
The funny part was, aside from being left-handed, Hasegawa never really seemed all that different or special compared to other Japanese fighters.
For most of his career he was a defensive minded out-boxer with with quick yet economical hands, sharp straight punches, and a good eye for counter-punching.
He wasn’t a powerhouse, he wasn’t a physical specimen, he was just a good Japanese fighter that, for whatever reason; was on a helluva’ winning streak.
Following his victory over Sahaprom, Hasegawa would go on to win their rematch by TKO, as well as defend the bantamweight title more than any other Japanese fighter in history, all while amassing 7 KO’s, more than he had accrued in his entire career up until 2005.
Despite all of my apparent dick-sucking of Hasegawa, I feel it’s worth mentioning that there’s another little element to my hero worship of the man.
You see, way back when, my brother actually went to live in Kobe for a year.
While he was there, he joined a boxing gym headed by trainer Senrima Keitoku, the man who would one day go on to train Hozumi Hasegawa.
While it’s a loose connection at best, for whatever reason, it means something to me to know that the same goofy old Korean-Japanese that my brother told me used to cane fat kids in his gym, just happens to be same one that trained one of my personal sports heroes to world champion status.
Pictured: A pennant my brother back with him from Kobe.
Like I said, it’s hardly a connection, but to me it means something special.
Anyway, before I let things totally veer off into weird touchy/feely bullshit, I think it’s time we actually got down to addressing the subject heading of this post:
This is called a "filler" image. It bears no purpose other than breaking up the text in an eye-pleasing fashion.
Coming into the bout, the 2 men represented the top-tier of the division.
While a bantamweight tournament is currently being hosted by Showtime, a tournament which both Donaire and Montiel were invited to participate in; both opted out in favor of fighting each other due to the general belief being that they were “above” the majority of the other participants in the first place.
It was one helluva’ big deal, and a bout that I was very much anticipating.
On paper, both fighters were quick-fisted and fleet of foot, with Donaire having a slight edge in both categories, while Montiel held the more intangible advantages of caginess, fundamentals, and; arguably, tenacity.
Perhaps the most attractive aspect of the bout however, was the fact that both fighters were known to possess extraordinarily heavy hands for their weights.
Maybe not Carlos Zarate “heavy,” but heavy nonetheless.
Goofy 'stache or not, this man wrecked so many people's shit it wasn't even funny...
Despite all this, my interest in this bout came not as a result of their skill sets or attributes, but rather as a consequence of their previous in-ring achievements.
While Donaire had indeed caught my eye with with his revenge KO of his brother Glenn over Vic Darchinyan back in 2007, Montiel was the one that really got me invested in this match-up.
You see, Fernando Montiel actually fought Hozumi Hasegawa this past April.
While Hasegawa looked to be on the way to a comfortable points victory in the early goings, Montiel caught him on the point of the chin with a savage left hook.
Thoroughly knocked onto Queer Street, or rather; 2 blocks down the road onto the even queerer street that is “Queer Manor,” Hasegawa got hung up on the ropes and was brutalized for several seconds longer before the match was stopped, his titles were stripped from him, and his winning streak and reputation were sent down the shitter.
Despite how much I hate to watch it, here’s a clip:
Regardless of what Hasegawa’s gone on to accomplish, coming back to win a bout 2 weight classes North at featherweight and generally staying out of trouble; my heart sunk the day I saw the man utterly destroyed at the hands of Montiel.
While I would go on record saying I bore nothing but respect for Montiel, after all not that many Mexicans are willing to fly all the way out to Japan just to claim an alphabet title, I would be lying if I said I came into the Donaire/Montiel bout not hoping to see the man knocked silly.
Seriously, I wanted to see Montiel knocked the fuck out almost as much as I wanted to see Ricky Hatton get Pacquiao-ed in every fight he ever had.
Fortunately, tonight I had Nonito Donaire AKA “The Other Filipino” to sub in for tonight’s Pacquiao-ing of Montiel.
From the opening moments of the fight, it was quite clear that there was a palpable disparity in overall speed between Donaire and Montiel.
Both guys looked a little pensive, an expected consequence given both fighter’s punching power; however Montiel seemed almost too relaxed, holding his arms outstretched as if expecting to deflect the majority of the incoming punches.
Not exactly a sound tactic when the other guy is clearly the faster fighter.
Despite this, only about 2 punches of note were landed in the first round, a counter left hook to the chin, and a heavy body shot, both of which were landed, quite authoritatively I might add; by Donaire.
In 2nd (and final) round of the contest, Montiel rushed out the gate, landing a few decent shots here and there, and generally looking to set the pace of the fight.
Then, as if answering my prayers; Donaire flattened Montiel as I have seldom seem a fighter flattened.
Charging in and pressing the action, Montiel let loose with quick straight right hand, unaware of the monster left hook that Donaire had begun the process of uncorking just a millisecond earlier.
In short, Montiel landed his shot, and fairly cleanly at that; however in the process of doing so he overextended himself and quite literally ran chin-first into the sock full of quarters that is Nonito Donaire’s left fist.
Splayed out on the mat, eyes unseeing, and brain thoroughly checked at the front desk, Montiel rolled about like a turtle on it’s back, a very drunk and/or “special” turtle; for half of the referee’s count.
Like this, but on his back. And y'know, almost half-conscious.
Why the ref even bothered to count, or allowed Montiel to continue, even if it was only for a few seconds; is beyond me.
Despite my feelings leading up to the bout consisting of wanting to see Montiel punished, and my hero avenged; I couldn’t help but feel sorry for Fernando Montiel…
For about 2 minutes.
Seriously though, he’s a terrific fighter, that sadly doesn’t (and probably won’t) receive the press or fanfare that he likely deserves, but tonight, Nonito “The Master of the Revenge KO” Donaire was by far the better man.
Anyway, thus was the tale of the Azn Badger’s boxing hero, Hozumi Hasegawa; and his vengeance by proxy via the fists of Nonito Donaire.
Thanks for reading, I know it was long; but hopefully it was worth the trouble!
How Do Asian People Smile? With The Aid of Expensive and Specialized Tools, Of Course.
Remember gym class in middle school?
Remember how you basically got an “A” just for changing into your gym clothes?
Well, don’t let anyone tell you that just plain showing up for work everyday isn’t without it’s benefits; because I just got a 16 GB Zune Touch HD for doing exactly that!
Oooooh.... Fancy...
Oh yeah, and I also got a wall charger/USB adaptor, and a screen cleaning kit to go with it.
Tower of Power, baby... Tower of Power...
FOH’ FREE Y’ALL!
*Ahem!* Sorry. We Japanese don’t gloat all too often, but when it comes to the acquisition of fancy and overpriced material goods, we just can’t help ourselves.
Anyway, turns out there was some sort of lottery involving the various employees at the warehouse with a certain standard of attendance, and my name just happened to be pulled for the second prize.
It’s kind of funny really, I honestly didn’t know anything about a drawing or prizes or what not; which made the whole experience of being told I had won something all the more surreal.
Trust me, as awesome as the Azn Badger may seem in print, in person he is very much a mustelid (look it up, retard) of the loser-ly variety.
That being said, I was absolutely blown away by the announcement, such that I honestly didn’t believe it at first.
I think it goes without saying, that despite all the hardship and long hours at work lately, (particulary of the “frozen” variety…) a silly little thing like getting second prize in a lottery I didn’t even know I had entered really did a lot to perk me up.
In fact, I’d even go so far as to say that it made me “happy.”
It’s kind of funny actually, when the subcontractor correspondent approached me to tell me about the prize, my first reaction was to steel myself in anticipation of bad news along the lines of:
“You accidentally shipped a dildo and House of 1000 Corpses to a child for Christmas. You sir, Mr. Badger; are fired.”
Or,
“You’re slow. And dumb. And you smell of lamb shanks and feces. Now, get back to work dick fur.”
In retrospect, the sunny and inviting smile on their face probably should’ve tipped me off to their intentions, but give me a break; I’m Azn, we’re good at misinterpreting things like faces, and y’know; English.
Anyway, after far too many days of freezer duty, my hands are a cracked and, quite literally, bloody mess right now; resulting in the necessary application of bag balm.
Word to the wise:
Never type with balmy jism on your hands; it can get very messy…
With bag jizz all over my hands, I’m not really able to handle my shiny new Zune at the moment, so I’m thinking I’ll wait a day or 2 to fire her up.
Damn that thing's reflective... A little smaller than I expected too.
Hell, I can wait, after all; it’s not everyday you get a free toy, much less a $200+ one…
I’m proud to say it’s one of the better posts I’ve made in the past month or so.
That being said, today I’ve decided to follow up the success of that gloriously shit-stained post by putting together a list of foods that I’ve done battle with on the porcelain throne over the years.
Please bear in mind that this list is based entirely of my personal experience, as well as through knowledge imparted to me by others comfortable enough to do so.
That being said, the following will be quite detailed, and very likely; too graphic for some.
You have been warned.
Dried Mango:
Pictured: The best brand. Trust me, there are some truly shitty brands...
A personal favorite of mine (eating it right now in fact!).
I’ve built up a tolerance to it over the years, but newbies will be greeted with frequent and chunky shits containing undigested, and still quite yellow, fragments of mango.
Said effects only manifest when consumed in mass quantities.
Not painful to deal with, but the frequency of shits can be troublesome if you have an upcoming social occasion.
Best eaten/OD’ed on when your schedule is clear for the day.
Note: Philippine brand mango is recommended, as it easily the highest quality. Stay away from Top Food’s bulk version though.
It’s orange.
Last time I checked, mango wasn’t orange…
Dried Papaya:
Eww... Those don't look like any papaya I would buy...
Not as tasty as mango, but extremely easy to OD on due to the richness of the fruit.
Results in slight constipation, and slight headache if consumed in mass quantities.
Can occasionally cause one’s shit to become mucus-like in consistency.
Be mindful of over-indulging, as it can result in an itchy sensation in the rectum that makes it difficult to gauge the urgency of impending shits.
Seriously, it’s like your anus is pulling a rope-a-dope on your nervous system, tricking it into thinking it needs to drop a deuce when there’s simply no deuces to drop.
Extremely frustrating to contend with, as constipation is equally as likely to manifest as the never ending, itchy “good God, I need to shit like a camel needs to spit” sensation.
Recommended in small portions, or not at all; as dried mango is a billion times more tasty anyway…
Almond Butter:
Whaddaya' know, it looks the same goin' in as it does comin' out!
A tasty peanut butter alternative that goes down smooth, but puts on a helluva’ fight on the way out.
As mentioned above, it produces no noticeable symptoms upon initial consumption, however it grows fangs/balls sometime during the digestion process, resulting in sneakily urgent shits later in the day.
Said evacuation process is actually not so much painful, as it is uncomfortable and anti-climactic.
Uncomfortable in the sense that one’s shits produce an irritating itching sensation, not to mention are rendered disappointingly miniscule by man-standards.
(Yes, we have standards for that.)
Anti-climactic in the sense that one’s body goes ape-shit telling them they need to get to a toilet right now, so they can anally evict the rampaging shit-leopard from their bowels before it quite literally tears them a new asshole, only to find that the resulting ass-leavings were a shit-kitty at best.
Still, that itching sensation can be epicly frustrating…
Raisins:
"Well hello there raisin hottie, what'cha' got there? HOLY JEEBUS, DON'T YOU REALIZE WHAT THOSE'LL DO TO ME!?"
Don’t let the friendly mascot of the hot Mexican chick fool you, raisins claim the porcelain throne as their second home, carving their name into the asshole of any man foolish enough to challenge them on their turf.
Seriously man, raisins are tough customers.
Consumption results in severe gas and an unrelenting feeling of “oh my God, I need to take a shit so bad” so severe, that most men opt to spend the remainder of the day in the John, y’now, just in case.
Despite this, the process of sending raisins on the endless descent into the white bowl of doom is where the actual wrecking of one’s shit generally occurs.
Said shit is akin to experiencing the crippling “oh my God, why won’t my ass stop crying” symptoms of diarrhea, while undergoing the “holy shit, why won’t my anus come out and play?” symptoms of constipation.
Seriously, the resulting shit is a marathon of anal endurance; the likes of which few can endure.
It’s like a 12 round war of attrition, broken up by frequent, and unsettling bouts of clinching.
Or is that “clenching?”
Despite one’s best efforts, in this particular equation, one is simply doomed to ride out the literal shit-storm of anal flotsam and debris that will very likely adorn their bathroom walls over the next 15-360 minutes.
Make no mistake, war is hell; especially when fought on the crapper…
Cheese (Any of the Cow variety):
"Ah, the power of chees..."
I am Japanese.
History teaches us that, for a very long time, my people had no cows.
Make no mistake, when it comes to foods that wreck my shit, few things of this Earth can do so as quickly, efficiently, and as unfailingly as dairy products.
While eggnog is a close second, I honestly feel that cheeses have the greatest capacity to tear my rectum inside out and fold it over my head like a shitty hockey player on the receiving end of a particularly savage hockey beatdown.
Consumption of cheese results in noticeable symptoms right off the bat.
It all starts with the “cheese sweats.”
Y’know, that nasty feeling where you feel all greasy and short of breath every time you exert yourself even a little.
Once the “cheese sweats” have settled in, then the nasal congestion starts to rear it’s ugly head, making you look like an ass as you constantly snort and blow your nose in a lame attempt to keep from breathing through your mouth like a loser.
Seriously, nobody likes a mouth breather.
NOBODY.
Once all of that has settled in, things finally come to a head as the dreaded “cheese gas” starts acting up, causing your anus to cough up clouds of all sorts of Evil Cow God cursed gasses that no man (or woman) of this Earth are meant to (nor able to) contend with.
Make no mistake, when an Asian declares bathroom jihad on a product of the dairy clan; collateral damage is not only expected, it’s a certainty.
That being said, unless you’re comfortable with living out the rest of your days knowing that a handful of people’s faces were Ark of the Covenant-ed by the noxious “cheese gas” crop-dusting from your shit-hole on your long march to the porcelain theater of war, I would suggest removing one’s self from any public venues before consuming any cheeses.
Despite the immense possibilities for public humiliation, doing battle with cheese is much like taking on a bully.
He may put on a big bravado, humiliating you from time to time, and even going so far as getting physical with you every now and again; but once you get him into the ring and start trading with him, he folds like the lips of your anus in the off-season.
In short, the actual battle with cheese is rather brief, and actually ends up feeling like a relief after all the tortuous build-up.
That’s not just the title of an awesome book, it’s also a stone cold fact.
A fact that too many of us seem to deny, or choose not to acknowledge.
I came to realize something a few years back:
Azn people talk about poop.
A lot.
A few years ago, I got into the habit of asking a specific question to all of my close friends.
Said question goes a little something like this:
“Hey, does your family like to talk about poop and bowel functions?”
What I discovered over the years, is that virtually all of my Asian friends, be they Thai, Cambodian, Japanese, Chinese, Korean, etc. answered me with a simple “yes,” while my friends of the decidedly paler variety, either dodged the question or replied with an emphatic “no.”
I can’t really put my finger on the details of why this is, but my best guess is that it’s a cultural difference.
While I can’t speak for any other Asian culture, being Japanese; I can say with a great deal of certainty, that we Japanese (always wanted to say that…) are a bowel obsessed people.
In America; the only talk of bowel functions, or urination, or poop that we get in mainstream media comes in the form of potty humor and TV commercials for pills that prevent old people from peeing themselves.
In general, American mainstream television seems to believe that irregular bowel functions are a problem only for the elderly and menopausal, as I’ve yet to see images of youthful people associated with the subject.
And no, Jamie Lee Curtis and her Activia ads does not count as a “youthful” spokesperson for healthy bowels in America.
If anything, it’d be more appropriate to file her under the menopausal demographic…
This is not the case in Japan.
You flip on just about any daytime television program in Japan, and I guarantee you you’ll find at least a half dozen programs for herbal bowel regulation supplements featuring interviews with young and nubile, bikini clad women openly discussing the epic shit they took the night before, or the epic shit they feel they need to take, but just can’t get out the gate due to their irregular bowel functions.
Don’t ask me why, but we Japanese talk about our poops.
All my life, I’ve gotten the feeling that my mom cares more about the health of my anus than me as a person.
Seriously, I can’t go a day without having her ask me:
“Did you get your ruffage?”
“Are you regular”
“Do you got the poops?”
Some kids go away to college for 4 years, and have their parent’s drop them a line every now and again to tell them how much they miss them, or to ask how their classes are going.
I went away for 4 years and my mom would call me every day to ask if I was backed up.
Being as I was eating at the school cafeteria most of the time, I did in fact have my fair share of bathroom war stories to report to my mother; but that’s besides the point.
The point is, in my family; the health and status of the various colons and anuses in the household have not only been fair game for discussion, they’ve played host to some of the more serious and genuinely interesting conversations we’ve had.
You may be laughing at this point, but I find that growing up being aware of, and free to discuss the state of my bowels has done me a lot of good.
Seriously, when I see some of shit that people eat, only to complain later in the day that their “stomach” is bothering them, (note: stomach is code for “anus” or “ass” among the sheepish) I can’t help but consider myself fortunate to know better than them.
Honestly folks, if you’re in good health, and know how your system reacts to whatever food you put into it; you’ll find that unwelcome “surprises” like the one mentioned above will almost never happen.
While I’m on the subject of food though, I figure I should mention why I decided to type this article today.
Today a friend of mine at work offered me some pecans as a snack.
I politely declined, citing my bowel’s inability to handle the delicious, but ass-crippling nut that is the pecan.
Actually, I think my exact words were:
“I like pecans man, but you realize they’ll wreck your shit, right?”
My comment was met with laughter, as it was indeed meant to be; but I think my buddy failed to realize that it also doubled as a genuine admonishment coming from a seasoned veteran of toilet seat warfare.
We’ll come back to that in a minute.
Anyway, sure enough, later in the day my buddy sat down next to me, his expression devoid of character, his complexion chalky and white as the Moon; and he said to me in the most humble of tones:
“So, those pecans tore through me pretty bad a minute ago…”
The kid got reeled in by the sweet taste and classy packaging of the pecans, only to end up getting his ass used as the ring for a 40-shit Royal Rumble.
Poor bastard probably blacked out putting himself in a Steiner Recliner just to get the last man over the top rope…
To that I responded with a baudy “I told you so,” however with just the slightest hint of understanding layered beneath it all.
You see, though I know my bowels like the back of my hand, I have this strange problem where many of my favorite foods/snacks just happen to be things that “upset” me.
I know this from experience, as well as from the fact that I’ve over-indulged in said food items at least once/twice/a billion times, to the point where the resulting toilet seat warfare has become routine to a fault.
It’s been a long time since I’ve waged all-out war with my anus, to the point where these days every skirmish is more akin to war games than anything else.
Trust me, I quite literally know my shit.
Tomorrow I’ll be following things up with a detailed list of tasty snacks that just happen to wreck your shit if you eat too much of them!
Excuse me while I step out to do little peacekeeping South of the border…
Give me a break will yah’, work was particularly brutal today…
Anyway, today we’re gonna’ be taking a look at the Top 5 Chinese Songs That Keep The Azn Badger From Stabbing People.
Unlike the previous 2 iterations of this list, this time around there’s an extra rule involved in my selection process.
Said rule would be:
No Jackie Chan.
Being as I have a fairly extensive collection of Jackie Chan songs, I think it would be best to save them for a list of their own at a future date.
Remind me to get back to this at a future date, as I genuinely like a lot of Jackie’s songs, and would love an opportunity to talk them up at some point.
Anyway, that being said; let’s get to the list:
5. Babylon In The Orient – Shanghai Restoration Project
You know this is gonna’ be a fucked up list when I start things off with a joke entry.
Babylon In The Orient, while sung in English (barely…) by a Chinese person; is the quintessential Azn song.
Mind you, that’s “Azn” not “Asian.”
The difference being defined by the amount of hair gel and “street” sensibilities present in the Asian person in question.
Consisting of little more than the words “holler” and a few extra tidbits here and there, the song captures the sound and feel of the Azn archetype so perfectly, that it’s tune springs to mind every time I see (or hear) a rice rocket or Asian guy dressed like a 300 lbs. Black guy.
Needless to say, Babylon In The Orient is a song that makes me laugh on account of how insanely Azn it is.
While it’s indeed a shitty song, the point of this list is that it consists of songs that keep me from stabbing people I.E. make me happy.
Babylon In The Orient makes me happy, though in a “so bad it’s good” sort of way.
In my book that counts for a lot.
4. Into The Future – Andy Lau
Ah, the “Great Un-Aging One,” Andy Lau.
Andy Lau is like the Tom Cruise of China.
He’s been consistently playing handsome, energetic and suave young men throughout his entire career despite being about 10 years too old to do so for, well, over 10 years now.
Truth be told, I haven’t really seen many Andy Lau movies, but the man has one helluva’ a reputation; as is evident by my knowledge of him despite having little to no interest in his career.
That being said, I think it’s funny that #4 on this list comes from the soundtrack of a movie I haven’t seen, and is sung by an aging pop-star I barely know of.
That’s right folks, the kung fu movie obsessed blogger that is the Azn Badger has not seen Stephen Chow’s Shaolin Soccer.
Know what else is fucked up?
I haven’t seen Kung Fu Hustle either!
Despite this, I stumbled across the theme song for Shaolin Soccer at some point, and while it doesn’t make me want to see the movie any more than before, it’s an energetic and fun song that always puts a smile on my face.
Someday I’ll see Stephen Chow’s movies, but until then; I’ll settle for listening to the soundtracks.
3. Shan Shan Re Ren Ai – Elva Hsiao
Elva Hsiao is yet another artist I ran across while perusing the now defunct Azn music forum I used to frequent.
Near as I can tell, she’s basically the Taiwanese equivalent to Madonna, only prettier and without the nasty gap in her teeth.
Oh yeah, and I’m guessing she doesn’t live out her days pretending she’s English like Madonna either.
Anyway, I only really ever heard 1 single of Elva Hsiao’s, called Diamond Candy.
Being as it was a single, there really wasn’t a whole lot to listen to, but the songs “More More More” and Shan Shan Re Ren Ai (whatever the fuck that means in Mandarin…) struck me as surprisingly catchy dance songs.
While “More More More” got brownie points from me on account of featuring Wu Jing in the music video, ultimately I felt Shan Shan Re Ren Ai was the better song.
I wouldn’t be surprised if I ended up listening to more of Ms. Hsiao’s work in the future.
2. Huo Yuan Jia – Jay Chou
In case you haven’t noticed already, many of the songs on this Top 5 come from the soundtracks of Chinese movies.
Huo Yuan Jia just happens to be the theme song for the movie of the same name, otherwise known in the U.S. as Jet Li’s “Fearless.”
It also happens to be a song by the juggernaut of Taiwanese pop music, Jay Chou.
Unlike most Asian pop-idols, I happen to like Jay Chou.
He started out his career as a writer, and as a legitimately accomplished musician behind the scenes, he’s definitely earned his stripes.
Despite all that, the point is:
I like his sound, and he’s made more than a few songs I happen to like, so he’s cool in my book.
I can’t say I’m terribly excited about his recent forays into action cinema, most notably in the upcoming Green Hornet movie; however despite that, he’s still cool in my book…
… Provided he doesn’t make a fool of himself in that movie.
Anyway, Fearless was a pretty spankin’ movie, but the one memory I’m able to carry with me wherever I go, is the tune of this song.
Man, I wish American movies would have badass theme songs like this one…
1. A Man Ought To Be Strong – CHINESE PEOPLE
Really, how could a kung fu movie obsessed person like myself make a Chinese music list without throwing A Man Ought To Be Strong into the top spot?
As a Chinese folk song, as well as the theme of the seemingly endless Once Upon A Time In China film series, A Man Ought To Be Strong is, from my perspective, the spirit of China in song form.
While there are scores of versions of this song, (including 1 by Jackie Chan) this version, sung by a choir as opposed to a single vocalist, is easily my favorite.
As I said, this song basically symbolizes China in my eyes, making it all too appropriate that the best version of it be sung by a bunch of anonymous Chinese as opposed to some pop-star.
Anyway, this song is awesome.
Everyone should hear it at some point in their life, so if this was your first time, I’ll just say, “You’re welcome.”
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