Wo Shi Laowai – Wo Pa Shui

From ChouChou:
WHEN – ON DECEMBER 31ST 2099 – DICKIE DAVIES is doing a lavish, television spectacular charting the cultural history of the 21st Century and he moves solemnly among the celebrity audience asking “And where were you when you heard the news that Sinocidal was closing..?” you will all doubtless bite your lips as your own memories of the event resurface. You, the masses who only came to China in the first place so that you’d have an excuse to comment on Sinocidal, are changed. Changed forever. I realise that you’re all still in shock from the news. In the coming weeks some of you will try to pick up the pieces of your lives, others will turn to drugs; but I ask you all to see beyond your pain for one moment. Yes, Sinocidal was the highlight of your lives – for more than one person in Qingdao it WAS their lives – but there are those who will lose even more than you will. It’s easy to forget… what was I saying? (Joking to hide the tears, there. British tradition.) It’s easy to forget that Sinocidal is (OR SHOULD THAT BE WAS? Thanatos take me now.) the nipple which succored a very nearly talented team of writers. Okay, one of us disappeared, and the rest of us towards the end just posted when we bloody well felt like it, but we always knew Sinocidal was there; an oasis in the ocean. Imagine your parents suddenly disappeared when you went to university – where would you take your laundry then, eh? Spare a thought then, for the new Sinocidal orphans as I knew them:

PiPi: Where will he rant now? PiPi has “opinionated” written all the way through him like a little stick of Blackpool Rock, and vented and raved and occasionally mentioned something vaguely connected to China. But where will tiny PiPi go now? Yes, yes, he’s sick – but who of us is without fault? Loud and aggressive, PiPi tried so hard to fight against the stereotypical image of a Scot, yet how long now, we wonder, before he descends to a shuffling, drunken itinerant wandering the London Underground like 75% of his nation?

LaoLao: Former teen idol LaoLao turned his back on Sinocidal’s glittering round of showbiz parties to study chemistry. A man driven by altruism, he had dreamt as a small LaoLao of discovering the elusive secret behind the correct temperature water should be drank at. He wrote for Sinocidal purely to gain money off the ad revenue (currently 75 cents) in order to fund his ground-breaking water boiling experiments. LaoLao will be devastated by Sinocidal’s demise not simply for its own sake, but because of its knock-on effects too. Who will fund his research now? What might he have discovered if Sinocidal were still there to throw money at him? How many who might have lived will die for want of the tepid water LaoLao can now never make? What colour are your hands, China? Eh? WHAT COLOUR ARE THEY?

TaiTai: Brave, brave TaiTai. The Dalai Lama of China blogging. Sensitive little TaiTai; childlike elfish face, but the heart of a lion. TaiTai fought for Sinocidal with the fervour of a mother rabbit protecting her kittens. The tragedy is that TaiTai cared TOO much. Always a nervous, highly strung character, fighting Sinocidal’s corner on the Peking Duck, suffering abuse from cruel rabbit torturers, and working well into the night to get LangLang’s posts on time finally took its toll. He had been under the doctor for some time before BJD reincarnate started commenting, but that pushed him completely over the edge. TaiTai still writes brilliant posts in his lucid moments, yet these moments are fewer and fewer, the gaps between them longer and longer. The doctors can do nothing. But this is China so that shouldn’t surprise anyone.

LangLang: One might think that someone with an American accent and a career in English teaching would be stoned to death at Sinocidal’s door. You might think he could do with a proper haircut too. Yet the Lone Wolf was an integral part of the Sinocidal team when “team” actually meant “a bunch of pissed-off expats who occasionally emailed each other”. PiPi’s proselytizing, Proto-Christ LaoLao, elfin TaiTai and my own gentlemanly mien were set off perfectly by the muscle-bound Metallica fan with the secret desire to write about death metal. As a website which always provided a haven for free spirits, it’s fitting that LangLang conducts Sinocidal’s band as she sinks beneath the waves. What will he do next? Well, only time, and most probably his own personal statement, will tell…

ChouChou: Not worth writing about.

Now go outside and do something meaningful for a change, y’all.

Reproduced with the kind permission of at least one member of Sinocidal. More Sinocidal / Yellow Wings posts to follow this year, for the sake of History – MyLaowai