Most Americans my age know Ebert as one half of the eponymous film-critic duo Siskel & Ebert, whose passionate arguments about films both good and bad comprised a much-loved television program that lasted until Siskel's death in 1999. The two were a study in contrats; Ebert was fat and verbose, Siskel thin and reserved. Their arguments would culminate in an ultimate judgment: was the film worth watching? The two adjudicated this matter by a simple, trademarked gesture: thumbs up or thumbs down. In its day the 'two thumps up!' judgment would be displayed more prominently on the print ads of films than any other.

Before the Internet age few outside of Chicago, where Ebert is based, knew that the voluble fat critic was also a wonderful writer. His reviews now appear at the top of IMDBs 'External Reviews' list on each major film's page, and are truly a primer in how to write about film. Many times through the years I've struggled to articulate a particular feeling about something I've watched, only to discover Ebert had captured it perfectly in his review.

Ebert keeps a journal of his thoughts on film, art, culture, and dying. It's well-worth bookmarking, if only to celebrate a national treasure while he is still among us.

Wiser and older people tell you that the passions of your youth will dry up and that a more sere and autumnal condition will overtake you as maturity advances, but the thought of the Nixon gang in the White House still infuses me with a pure and undiluted hatred and makes me consider throwing up things that I don't even remember having eaten.

Hard though many Chinese may find this to believe, since their own media reflect the policy of their party-state, western governments have almost nothing to do with it. The main cause lies in the economics and professional dynamics of the west's commercial news business, which is going through one of those "gales of creative destruction" that Joseph Schumpeter saw to be characteristic of capitalism.

As they compete fiercely for readers and viewers, mainstream western media tend to stick with a few stories that are familiar and interesting to them. They report so much about Tibet not because they are ideological China-bashers but because their consumers are fascinated by and care about Tibet. Yes, their news stories on China's domestic politics tend to the sensational and the negative - so do their stories about the domestic politics of their own countries. Those who edit and select these stories are just following the market-oriented rules of their trade. If it bleeds, it leads. Knocking copy is selling copy. Good news is no news. "Many Chinese city dwellers moderately content with rising standard of living" is not a headline that would sell many papers.

(Emphasis mine)

Blogger and historian Jeremiah Jenne, writing in the new Global Times, adds:

And while accusations of professional journalists coming here to blatantly push an agenda is (mostly) paranoid hogwash, I do think that there is a tendency to let preconceived notions dictate how certain stories are covered, and this is obviously a problem. It would also be naive not to also discuss the role market forces play in the decision to run articles on certain topics at the expense of others.

Both points are correct, I think. Bad reporting about China typically derives from laziness, sloppiness, or lack of access- not a deep anti-China racial animus in the hearts of the reporters themselves. The narratives that emanate from foreign reports in China are sensationalistic because, as Gash points out, these narratives sell.

In countries which possess free, private sources of media, these sources compete for scarce readers and advertising revenue. In China, the interests of media are subordinate to the interests of state power. As a result, criticisms of the state in the Chinese media are virtually unheard of.

Therefore, the only criticisms a Chinese person may hear of his own government comes from foreign sources. As people typically dislike hearing foreign critiques of their country, a common defense is the biased shortcoming of the critics themselves. It is far easier for a Chinese person to claim "they hate China and want us to fail!" than it is to confront the issue that the Beijing regime often exhibits barbaric and brutal behavior.

In the United States, conservative Republicans shriek "liberal bias!" as an explanation for why their ideas do not have greater currency among the electorate-at-large. As with the nationalist Chinese brigades, this prevents them from making the difficult decision to confront their own ideas and understand why others disagree with them.

In terms of watching the Chinese media, it is important to distinguish between reporting that is actually biased- of which there is some- from reporting that merely reflects the nature of the business.

UPDATE: Link for the Guardian piece added.

Of course, being lumped in with the splittist Dalai clique would be more exciting, but I'll take mention by the state-run media any time. Even if they only use my first name. To protect anonymity, of course.

While we're on the subject of Edwards, here are some stray thoughts.

- I always thought there was something fishy about Edwards, even when he first emerged on the scene and young liberals swooned for him. He always had a messianic flair about him, as if he were dispatched from above to end poverty in America. On subjects with which he lacked authority, he was badly outclassed- witness his 2004 debate with Dick Cheney. His speeches sounded good until you realized he never said anything new. I always wished he were more of an actual politician and less of a character in a John Grisham novel.

- And what does it matter if his wife's cancer was in remission when he carried on the affair? Is that supposed to excuse everything?

-Something interesting about Rielle Hunter, Edwards' "other" woman. She was apparently the inspiration for the vapid, slutty, cocaine-fueled female characters in Bret Easton Ellis' novel "American Psycho".

- Edwards carried on his affair, admitted it to his wife, decided to pursue the presidency anyway, lied about it to the press, and then came clean. Can you imagine if he had actually won the nomination? Talk about a gift to John McCain. Edwards had to have known that the story would have come out eventually, yet felt it was so important for him to be president that he was willing to risk the fortunes of the Democratic Party to get what he wanted. During the primary season, Edward acted as though the nomination was his save for the inconvenient fact that Obama was black and Clinton female. We can all be thankful the majority of American voters weren't persuaded by his charm.

I for one, feel sorry for his children and especially his poor wife, but fairly delighted that we won't have Edwards to kick around anymore.

A new bakery opened in Kunming recently, selling mainly European-style bread and Italian coffee. On its sign (adorned with a photo of several smiling Chinese wearing chef caps) is written perhaps the most mangled English slogan I have ever seen. Unlike Chinglish that is unintentionally hilarious, this makes absolutely no sense. The Chinese written next to it, of course, is perfect and expresses what I imagine the English message intended to.

Malaprop English in China isn't particularly noteworthy, as few billboards and signs here are written perfectly. I used to wonder why, if a business went to the trouble and expense of having an advertisement in English, they didn't bother making sure that the English was correct.

The story of Reagan's imagery provides an answer. In mainland China, having English advertisements represents modernity, internationalism, and sophistication. Most Chinese people wouldn't realize that the actual words were nonsensical, as most don't read English. Besides, their eyes would immediately go to the (properly written) Chinese text first. Just having the words there is what matters, not what the words actually say.

A corollary to this phenomenon are the Westerners with embarrassingly stupid Chinese characters tattooed on their body. Since most Westerners don't read Chinese, it doesn't matter what the characters mean, just what image they characters represent. A Chinese tattoo indicates depth, internationalism, mysticism, and sensitivity even if the tattoo reads "my mother eats maggots".

Chinglish is a great source of mirth for both English-speaking Chinese and foreigners here, but we aren't the target audience. Just as in American politics, image matters more than substance.

Meanwhile, Chris and Brendan are discussing a rather sloppy AP article that clumsily tries to politicize the earthquake. Their back-and-forth is well worth reading, and in a way I think both are right: it's appropriate to inject political analysis into disaster coverage, so long as said political analysis isn't asinine. Which, unfortunately, is often the case with Western reporting on China.

Beijing's relative openness in regards to earthquake coverage isn't surprising for three reasons:

1. China was widely criticized for its attempt to cover up the extent of the SARS virus in 2002
2. China has been hit with a lot of bad publicity for its heavy-handed approach to Tibet.
3. Burma, one of China's client states, is currently under intense criticism for its bungling and duplicity in response to the cyclone.

Motives aside, Beijing's response to the earthquake has been impressive. Reporters should recall that a mere three years ago a natural disaster struck New Orleans, a major city in one of the world's wealthiest developed countries. And yet the government response was slow, clumsy, and deeply incompetent, leading to horrifying situations such as bodies lying dead in the water for three days without being claimed and buried.

Monday's earthquake struck a rural part of a largely rural country with poor infrastructure. A little perspective is needed when analyzing the efficacy of Chinese government relief operations.

But, as one does on a flight, I watched because there was nothing better to do. To my delight, I found that the film was set in San Francisco, and contained a number of pretty shots of the city. I remember feeling very excited that within hours I'd be there myself.

Alas, moments like these may become rare in the future. As the San Francisco Chronicle reports, high costs have deterred filmmakers from shooting in the city, instead opting for less expensive states or Canada. In the past year, the only film made entirely in San Francisco was Milk, concerning the assassination of the openly gay city supervisor in 1978. Along with Zodiac, the recent film about the Bay Area's most notorious serial killer, the only movies being made in San Francisco these days seem to be specifically about San Francisco history.

Oh, well. If movies stop being made in my American hometown, I suppose a film industry in my Chinese home of Kunming will have to do.

I bring this up because the current season of Survivor has been filmed right here in China, and while it can not be called a "trouble spot" by any stretch of the imagination, the producers appear to be avoiding any reference to modern China while focusing instead on cliches. According to its Wikipedia entry, Survivor China began with a Buddhist ceremony (managing to offend a devout Christian competitor) and each person was handed a copy of Sun Tzu's The Art of War. The two teams have been named 飞龙 （fei1long2) "Flying Dragon" and 战虎 (zhan4hu3) "Fighting Tiger". The logo, as Dan Washburn notes, "has just about everything you would expect from an American logo about China except for Yao Ming and a takeout box"

What I find interesting is that, for a series about China, all aspects appear to focus on classical Chinese imagery, the sort that only exists today in Chinese television costume dramas. The Wikipedia article goes on to note that the Survivor producers had extraordinary access to the Shaolin Temple and the Great Wall, and I'm surprised they didn't pull a Bertolucci and ask to film in the Forbidden City.

I would prefer, of course, a Survivor set in modern China. Imagine the possibilities. You could instruct two people to go to the Shanghai train station at Spring Festival time and somehow come away with two hard-sleeper tickets without being crushed by the onslaught of people. How about crossing busy intersections in any major cities- at night? I would also enjoy watching people swim in Kunming's own Dian Chi lake and avoid emerging with an extra limb due to the excessive pollution. There are plenty of challenges in China without building artificial obstacles. At least Fear Factor, one of the more watchable American reality TV shows, uses authentic situations in their episodes.

Finally, while we're on the subject of Survivor and China, Ling Liu at the Time blog reminds us of the show's controversial division of contestants by race in 2006, a subject that prompted host Jeff Probst (photo above) to say about Asian people: "When you start talking to a person from Asia, you realize--wow! They have all different backgrounds!". One wonders if the reporter who uncovered this gem redacted a follow-up comment along the lines of, "I just thought they were all shrimpy yellow slanty-eyed rice eaters!".