台北,台北

台北是个奇怪的城市。

城市很陌生,但这些路名和地名却很熟悉。忠孝东路,青田街,艋甲,还有更多看着似曾相识,仿佛在某首歌里或者某本书中听说看到过的名字。

台北的一个个街区走过去,各个酒吧餐馆中出没。一会儿仿佛是上海的小咖啡馆;转过一个街角,眼前道路两旁的霓虹灯,忽然似乎又是香港的旺角;再转过一个清静的小巷,俨然是东京的某地,不同的只是所有的标牌和文字都是中文。

在台北的人似乎也和在北京上海的人们都挂着关系。在台北的朋友说,“你想听Livehouse?好啊,我给Landy打个电话。” “Landy?我认识啊。” 不到一个月前我刚在北京的一个户外小酒吧和他喝了杯酒。到了Legacy的Livehouse,听着旺福乐队的消遣摇滚乐,拿了瓶台北啤酒正喝着,Landy说,“这几天好几拨大陆的人在台北。闹闹一会儿就过来。” 当然,就是那个在北京城当着小女巫的闹闹。过了一天,晚饭时候,朋友约了几个人,其中之一,姚谦。两个星期前刚在上海见过。一转头,隔壁桌坐了居然又是Landy。

这个城市和这个城市里的人,对于60到80年代间在大陆长大的人来说,本来就是千丝万缕的纠结。尤其是音乐和文字。

台北的朋友带着我在市里走了一圈。听他说着20年前台湾刚刚解禁,社会动荡,总统府前每天聚着几万人示威,时不时有人就在门前自焚,房价飞涨,阶层冲突,稍有家产的人都在海外置业,将子女送走,留着后路。20年后,政治选举已然是有些无聊的常事。权力平静地更迭。不同阶层的诉求都有了各自的渠道和对话的机制。相对于大陆,走在台北路上的人们,平和内敛。波澜不惊的社会,大概也因为如此,年轻不满现状的人,眼望大陆,期待那里在巨变之中所带来的机会,和所有变化能带来的刺激。

再过20年,等这一轮的都市再建计划完成,台北也许会变得越来越像东京。越发精致,越发内敛,老龄人越来越多,生活越来越规律,社会越发平稳。言辞和辩论也许会继续激烈,所涉及的话题内容却越来越琐屑。表面高昂的情绪,更多的是表演,而不是抑制不住的激烈冲突。

日本和北欧的社会,也许就是社会被良好治理,激烈矛盾被基本解决后的社会形态。也许台湾向着那样的社会演进着。虽然再也不会有罗大佑们了,有的只是旺福或者某个小livehouse里欢唱着糟糕但是足够自娱自乐歌曲的小乐队们,但对于大多数人来说,社会的常态本就不该是罗大佑,而应该是旺而且福。

在台北南区的一个露天的小街角酒吧里,深夜,喝杯冰的台湾啤酒,点几盘小菜。空气干净湿润。气温正好。酒吧里的人轻松愉快,讨论着人间一切琐屑的事,男女,工作,家庭。

回上海的飞机上,刚坐下,一转头,隔壁座位居然是毛丞宇和他的太太。他们刚在台北待了一周,悠闲地吃吃喝喝逛逛。刚要飞回上海,他就忍不住说,“台北真是适合生活的城市。”

在中国的大陆上,离旺而且福的时代还远。所以,一方面我们有些忐忑又期待着将面临的社会巨变,另一方面,一年年地过去着,台北依然是熟悉又陌生,触手可及,似乎有些肤浅,却让人向往。

舞剧的脚本

Yuri Possokhov,曾经的芭蕾明星,现在的编舞者。我很喜欢他的富有情感的作品。他热爱日本设计和艺术的极度精致典雅,也好奇同样是这个国家产出着这么多各色的AV片。他想排个关于日本的舞剧。

另一要求,是最终场景的一个图像,白茫茫雪地上,鲜红的血。

我说,行啊,我写个脚本。芭蕾舞剧,编舞难。脚本故事,似乎不难。情节必须简单,但也必须有许多想象空间的冲击力。几个月前我在飞机上随手写了个,发了出去。没想到,前两天听说,他居然正式开始排练了。

翻了个中文的版本,给好奇的但英文不太好的几位。

我不知道最终出来的舞剧,和我的脚本描述的,差别有多大。很可能巨大得面目全不一样了。所以,发一个在这儿,权当自娱自乐一把。
———————————————

30分钟,芭蕾短剧

故事源于真实历史事件。京都金阁寺的金阁,千年的国家宝藏,两百年前被金阁寺的一个和尚给烧了。原因未知。我们今天所见到的金阁是重修的。

这个故事,关于一个女人,还有她如何使得金阁被烧毁。

时间:4百年前。日本。战国时代将要终结。武士们和公主们。传奇故事还在产生中。

金阁

第一幕:金阁寺的院子中。春天。樱花盛开。金阁已然沧桑,却还依然美丽。

主色调:鲜艳

婚礼

公主今日要嫁给武士。武士入场。副手入场。然后他的伙伴们。全是男人,各个层级的武士们。他们看上去优雅,精致而且危险。穿着:鲜艳、质感的丝袍。他们很快乐。随后,公主入场。她的侍女。她的伙伴们。全是女性。公主穿着:人群中一眼看出的最鲜艳雅致的丝袍。

(公主和武士的双人舞)

每个人都为这重大日子而高兴。一眼能看出,场上所有的女孩都爱武士,而场上所有的男人都爱公主,尤其是武士的副手。

(公主和副手的双人舞)

群舞,爱,春天,落着的樱花瓣,等等。婚礼场面。幸福生活的开始。

信使入场。

幕府将军的命令,武士必须立刻启程。日本在朝鲜的战争开始了。所有的男人都取出了盔甲和剑。爱人之间悲伤的道别。保重身体,注意安全。武士和公主立誓永远相爱,互相忠诚,等等。

换场景。背景的大LED屏幕显示着时间的流逝,春天过去,夏天,然后是秋天和冬天,转眼又回到了春天。公主一直一动不动地站在台中央,穿着她的婚礼礼服。一年年过去了,她的丈夫依然没有归来。

第二幕。金阁寺。又一年的秋天。背景的金阁寺,看上去有些残败了,急需修缮。

(主色调:白)

公主现在住在金阁寺里。为了祈祷她丈夫的平安归来,她决定要重修在不停的战争中已经有些残败的金阁。公主:纯净,平静,典雅,一切在控制之中。穿着:白色的丝袍。

一个年轻的僧人(穿着:深灰的亚麻僧袍)在寺院中偶遇公主。(备注:那个年代日本的和尚们经常是贵族或武士出身,有时是皇家出身)公主惊奇地发现这僧人的长相和她远在朝鲜战场上的丈夫几乎是一模一样。他们互相被吸引。非常强烈的吸引力。

(很长很热烈的双人舞. Grand Pas de Deux)

最后公主控制住了自己。僧人却不能控制住自己的感情。

控制住了情感,公主离开了。

夜来了。公主换上轻丝浴袍,踏进温泉洗浴。户外。背景LED屏上,星星,月亮,竹影,兰花。一壶清酒。她想念她的丈夫。她也想起了那个和他长得一模一样的年轻僧人。

激情燃烧、爱得疯狂的年轻僧人,悄悄地潜入。他轻轻地踏进了温泉池。因为孤独,因为年轻僧人和她丈夫的相像,公主放下了白日里的武装。他们做爱。

(公主和僧人,双人舞)

侍女和副手入场。副手带来了武士的信件。他们为所见到的情形而震惊。但他们没有出声,离开了。

白天来了。公主又能够控制自己的情感了。她后悔了。

她将年轻僧人推走了。从此,她回避年轻僧人,专心于金阁的修缮工作。

(同一场景,但季节现在是白色的冬天)

金阁焕然一新。轻盈,美丽,在绿色湖水边,它的全色金色在阳光下闪烁。阁顶,白雪盖着。

公主,她的随从们,和寺庙的僧人们一起庆祝着金阁的顺利完成。她祈祷着她丈夫的安全归来。毕竟,她许愿了,而金阁也修好了。这么大的一个心愿都许了也做了,她的丈夫一定会安全归来的,她相信。

年轻僧人,因为公主的回避,因为他疯狂热烈的爱,疯狂的嫉妒,他一把火将刚刚修缮完成的点着了,自己也跳入了火中。

LED屏幕这里可以显示火中的金阁,巨大痛苦中的年轻僧人,在火中烧着。公主,随从,僧人们,都看着燃烧中的金阁和僧人。惊恐中,他们一起转头看着公主。他们都知道。她是个诅咒。她让那年轻僧人发了疯,让金阁被烧毁。都是她的错。

第三幕。场景现在是在烧毁了的金阁旁。地上全是白雪。白色的雪。到处的白色。一切都是白色,雪白。除了黑色的金阁的残骸。

公主跪在雪地上。她的深入骨髓的悔恨和悲伤。因为金阁。因为年轻的僧人。因为她的武士丈夫。为了他的安全归来,她才来到了这个寺庙来重修金阁。

她的侍女慌张地冲上台。后面跟随着悲痛中的武士的随从。随后是一队士兵,扛着一副棺材。(所有人都是白色或黑色)白的丝绸旗子在风里。随后是诵经的僧人们。

她的武士丈夫已死了。他倒在了战场上,就在金阁寺着火倒塌的那一瞬间。

武士和年轻的僧人都死了。金阁,烧毁了。她是引起这一切的原因。僧人们,士兵们,武士的随从,公主的侍女,所有人都知道。从前他们都爱她,但现在,士兵们和僧人们在仇恨的沉默中,缓缓离开舞台。

留在舞台上的只剩下黑色的棺材,白色丝袍的公主,黑色的金阁残骸,还有武士的随从。

(公主的单人舞)

雪花落着。风呼啸。白色的丧旗在风中飘。音乐。

公主从武士随从的身上拔出他的短剑,她坐下,剖腹。

最后的场景:白色的雪地上。雪花在空中落着。公主躺在台上,已死。武士的随从在一旁跌坐着,全副武装(日本的盔甲,黑色),手里握着他的长剑。风声。音乐。

背景LED屏上,白色的雪花落着,金阁的黑色残骸。巨大一片红色的血,从白的雪地上流过。(如果技术可能,效果是血铺天盖地地直流到观众席上)

30 minutes Ballet Piece

The Golden Pavilion

======

This is based on a historical incident. The golden pavilion of Kyoto,
one thousand year old and a national treasure, was burned down by an
young monk a couple hundreds years ago, reason unknown. The golden
pavilion that we see today was a rebuilt one.

This is a completely imagined story. It is about the woman who caused
the pavilion to get burned down.

Time: four hundreds year ago. The “warring state” age of Japan was
about to come to an end. Samurais and princesses. Legends were still
being made.

The Golden Pavilion

Scene 1, the courtyard of the Golden Pavilion temple. Spring time.
Cherry was in full blossom. The golden pavilion old but still
beautiful.

The wedding day.

The Princess is to wed the Samurai today. First entered the Samurai,
and his Aide. Then his full retinue, all male, and they were all
samurai of various rank. They looked elegant, refined and lethal, in
colorful and
heavy silk gowns. They were happy. Then entered the princess, her
governess, and her retinue, all female. She’s dressed in most refined
style. (pas de deux the Samurai and the Princess) Everyone was happy for the
big day. It was also obvious that all the girls were in love with the
Samurai, and the men with the Princess, especially the Aide (a short
pas de deux, the Princess and the Aide) Dances, love, the spring time and the
falling of the cherry flowers, etc. The wedding ceremony. A good start
of a happy life.

Entered a messenger.

The order came from the shogun that the Samurai must leave at once to
the war in Korea. The men all got into armours and took the swords.
The sad separation of the lovers. Goodbyes. Wish for safety. Vows for
eternal love and being faithful, etc.

Change of scenes, the background LED shows the passing of time, spring
into summer and fall and winter, and spring again. The princess
remains on stage in her full wedding dress. Years pass. Her husband
still has not returned. She was unhappy.

Then, Scene 2, the Golden Pavilion Temple. Fall. Another year. The
golden pavilion in the background, looking older and badly in need of
maintenance.

(color: white.)

The princess now comes to live in the golden pavilion temple. To pray
for the safe return of her husband, she has decided to renovate the
ancicent golden pavilion that has fallen into desrepair during the
constant wars. She was pure, serene, in control, etc. In silver silk
gown.

An young Monk (dark linen, monk’s long dress) accidentally met the
princess. (A note here: Japanese monks often come from the noble and
sometimes from the royal family. ) The Princess was shocked that the
Monk looked just like her husband, the Samurai faraway fighting a long war.
They were immediately attracted to each other. Very intensely so.

After a long and heated pas de deux, The princess put her feeling
under control. The monk was less successful in hiding his feeling.

Back in control of her emotions, the princess left.

Night fell. The princess undressed and went into a hot spring for a
bath. Outdoor. Surrounded by stars, moons, bamboos, orchid, sake.
She missed her husband. And she remembered the encounter with the
Monk who looked just like her husband.

The Mmonk, in his burning desire and deliriously in love, crept
into the scene. He went into the steamy hot spring. Loneliness, the
young monk’s likeness to her husband, sake, night, the relaxation of
the hot bath, the princess let down her guard. They made love. (pas de
deux)

They were seen by the Governess and the Aide, who happened to carry a
message from the Samurai. They were devastated by what they saw, but
they did not show themselves, and moved away.

Daylight came. The Princess now regained her control, and she regretted.

She pushed out the Monk. She avoided the Monk from then on. The
Princess focused her attention into finishing the renovation work.

(Same scene, but the season changed into snowy winter. )

The golden pavilion was done and shiningly new. Otherworldly
beautiful, sitting near a green lake, it’s golden exterior shining.
Covered in white snow.

The Princess and her companions and the monks celebrated the
completion of the work. She prayed that her husband would now be
safe, with so strong a blessing.

The Monk, rejected by the princess, desperately in a hopeless love,
mad in jealousy, he set fire to the just completed golden pavilion,
and burned himself in it.

Here the LED can show the golden pavilion in fire, and the monk in
great pain, burning with it. The Princess and the Governess and the
monks all witnessed the burning. In horror, everyone turned to look
at the princess. They all knew. She was the curse. She caused the
monk’s madness, and the burning of the treasured golden pavilion,
entirely her fault.

Scene 3. Now at the site of the burned down Golden Pavilion. Ground
covered under snow, white, everywhere white, except for the Charred
and blackened remains of the golden pavilion.

The Princess kneeled on the ground, in deep regret and sorrow. For
the golden pavilion. For the Monk. For her Samurai husband for whom she
had renovated the golden pavilion.

The governess rushed in. Followed by the aide, in deep grief. Then
followed the procession of guards, carrying a coffin. White silky
flags. Followed by chanting monks in mourning. Her husband was dead.
The Samurai had fallen on the battlefield, at precisely the moment
the golden pavilion crashed to the ground in fire.

Both the Samurai and the Monk were dead, and the Golden Pavilion
burned down. She was the cause, the curse. Everyone knew that. The
monks, the guards, the Aide, and her own Governess. They all had loved her
before, but now, the guards and the monks withdrew from the stage in
hateful silence.

Remained on the stage were only the coffin, the princess, the remains
of the golden pavilion, and the aide.

The snow fell. The wind blew. The mourning white flags flew in the
wind. The music.

In deep grief, the princess pulled the short sword from the aide’s
belt, she sat down, and committed the Seppuku.

Last scene: the white snowy ground. Snows fell. The princess lying
dead. The Aide in full samurai armor sat on the stage, holding his long
sword. The background
LED with white snow falling and the black remains of the Golden
Pavilion. And the red blood flowed through the white snow.

南非 三

这就是一攻略。

吃。

南非的吃,或者说,去过的约堡和Safari的地方的吃。约堡的吃,酒店的就没什么可说的,Boutique Hotel的风格,一天两天的饭菜,都觉得好,吃到第三天,就那么回事了。但是约堡似乎有不少很好的葡萄牙餐馆。南非遗留的移民传统,依照人口的输入,荷兰,英国,葡萄牙,意大利,印度,中国。约堡的葡萄牙餐厅不错。

在国家公园里,吃得还行,时不时有些奇异的肉,诸如,羚羊,鳄鱼之类。但想象中,最好的林中食物,总是在架子上滚动着烤着的野味。这次没试着。

南非出产葡萄酒。而且,很便宜。同等质量的南非葡萄酒,大概是法国红酒的一半,加州红酒的三分之一价格。从早到晚,喝的机会是不会断的。甚至于,一大早6点出发追着日出满草原地找野兽的时候,Tracker和Ranger们歇脚,煮出一壶咖啡,我们的Tracker叫Ronarld,快乐的老黑,总拿出个Amarula Cream,说,“来,加点?”

而红酒是不断的。Safari的吃吃喝喝都包括在费用中了,无论你喝多少,吃多少。考验自控的能力。

安全

安全是个问题。尤其是约堡。再人权主义的人也不能无视相对贫困的黑人涌入都市后所带来的安全问题。理想和现实,就是如此。但两者之间并无冲突。废除了种族歧视,接下来的,就是如何让社会相对平等,机会均等。但当下,约堡的安全问题很严峻。无论去哪儿,导游或者酒店老板娘,都要拿出地图,研究许久,商讨可以步行的区域。而所住的家庭酒店,铁丝网围绕,养了两条大狗,估计还备了些枪支。周围的民居也是同样。

但城市只去了约堡。都说开普敦非常好。也许是。

但也许应该再去次坦桑尼亚,在Serengati国家公园的非洲大草原上,看成百万的动物在大草原上,进行着年复一年的大迁徙。

但我不知道怎么才能感受到海明威或者荣格在非洲的感觉。也许,在盛世,在烈火蒸油的盛世,没有蛮荒和原始感觉的机会。

南非二

拿到的两套四分之一决赛的票,都在约堡。结果,时也命也,一个是加纳对乌拉圭。一个是西班牙对巴拉圭。也罢了,来了次世界杯,看了两个拉圭,也算圆满。

有个朋友,John,已经在南非待了快一个月,跟着看了每一场球。不用嫉妒,也不用同情,他本来就是干这行的。拉上我们,一路开车,就到了索韦托的Soccer City。体育场外,索韦托的本地居民们发挥着创业者的精神,把体育场周围几平方公里的住宅区全开发成了付费停车场。

一靠近体育场,十几个本地黑人,奔跑着,敲着窗,“来,来,来,来我这儿,跟我来。”

John明显已经是南非老手了。镇定。万军丛中,指了个看上去顺眼的,说,”你了。“

一路跟着,那哥们一路小跑。到了个可停车的地。我下了车,正左右观看着地形,想,出来可要记着怎么找到这么个地方,脚上一阵剧痛。一低头,就看着我的脚上,压着个车轮。车轮上,是一辆还挺新的奔驰车。车里,是个40左右着装时髦的黑人男子。

周围所有人一阵手忙脚乱,黑哥们喊着,”压着人了,赶紧退!“

还好,那司机没听他,不然又往回再压回一下。他忙往前开了点,跳下车,第一句话,”我是医生!我是医生!“

我看着他,想,”恩,你是个医生,压着我的脚了。现在呢?“

他从兜里,拿出一瓶药,直举到我面前,”我是医生!这是止疼药!给你两颗!给你四颗?四颗止疼药!“

我一边龇牙咧嘴地疼,一边骂着,一边心想,”他说的好像这四颗止疼药仿佛是400美元或者4公斤海洛因。难道南非的止疼药特别珍贵吗?“

最终,脚没事。放走了依依不舍非要把四颗止疼药给我的医生 – 我很同情他的病人。看了加纳对乌拉圭。球不错。

第二天,西班牙对巴拉圭。也不错。

从球场回酒店的路上,搭了球场到总车站的公车,一路停停走走,两旁的贫民区,街头人影绰绰,街角燃着垃圾的煤油桶,酒醉的有的快乐有的悲伤的黑人们,似曾相识,仿佛是20年前的harlem和Brooklyn。

想起当年骑辆单车,在暴风雪里黑人区中送外卖的情景,忽然有些亲切。

————————-

飞机从约堡飞到了Kruger National Park。Youtube上有一段,Battle of Kruger。就是这个地方。

从机场到住地的10分钟,就已经看到了长颈鹿在野地里半带优雅半带别扭地走着。待了四天,看到了野牛,犀牛,狮子,豹子,大象,等等等等。我们的运气非常不错。

南非仅存300只的野狗在草原和灌木丛中穿插,我们在Land Rover里猛追。

斑马在日出中,马背上,鸟的彩色羽毛,和那一双日出中的金黄眼睛。

一只猎豹在几米高的白蚁巢的土堆上懒洋洋地躺着。细长的身体,金黄色的毛发。他的敌人是比他体型大得多的狮子和花豹。但今天他休息着。他喜欢在高处躺着,阳光下,眯着眼,慢悠悠地扫视着草原,和眼前这不知是何来历的草绿色Land Rover。他是个孤独的生物。从来独自游荡。不知如何群居,与其他豹子相处。相处的结果似乎只是害己也害同伴。

来南非之前,她问,“你喜欢什么动物?“

”猎豹。“我说,”你喜欢什么?“

”熊猫。“

现在,在非洲的大草原和灌木中,她看着猎豹在白蚁堆上,阳光下的金黄光泽。

”他有很长的睫毛。“顿了下,她说,”我喜欢猎豹。“

夜深了,追逐了一天的野物,天空繁星闪烁。忽然,导游指着天空喊道,”流星,流星!“

蓝黑的星空中,一道白的光骤然划过,明亮过天空中最明亮的星星。转瞬即逝。

“你们许了愿吗?”导游问。

我心想,许愿?还没反应过来。

她笑了笑,说,“这是我第一次看到流星。不过,我许过愿了。”

第二天,太阳在非洲的草原依然升起,就像是过去的几十百万年一样。日出日落,无数的生物出现消失。犹如我们。我们的Land Rover继续在草原追逐着,水羊,羚羊,树猴,河马,日出时三只一群的雄狮子,挡在路中,睡着。

她在日出的金黄光芒里,转头看我,“也许,两只猎豹,也能试着相处在一起。”

南非,一

飞了24小时,终于到了约翰内斯堡, Joburg,当地人的简称。出来,时差中,晕晕乎乎地,看着面前的接人队伍,几十个密密麻麻举着的牌,跟检阅似的,边走着,一个个地扫过去,再走回,再扫一遍,再走回,又扫了一遍。没有我的名字,或者我的住处的名字, Highland View Guesthouse,据说是五星级的客栈。

打了电话过去。客栈经理电话里非常悲伤非常抱歉地说,“对不起,我们的店主人今天下午心脏病发作,酒店必须关门。我们的司机马上到,他会接你去另一个酒店。非常抱歉,非常抱歉,非常抱歉。”

我心里叹了口气,想,唉,一定是世界杯让它们接了太多订单,而作为被认为比较好说话不闹事的亚洲人,这酒店想把我踢到另一个酒店。

”真对不起,听到你们店主人心脏病发作的消息。不过,我不会去另一个酒店。 我现在过来你们这儿。”

“但是我们这儿不营业了!关门了!老板心脏病发作了!“

”没关系。我过来看一眼。“ 我说。”真难过,听到你们老板心脏病发作的事。“

司机终于出现。那是个挺老实的黑人司机,虽然他说的英文我听不太懂。从机场到客栈的路上,司机又接到了几个电话。”客栈关门了“”不要浪费宝贵时间过来了“等等。他转头,很抱歉地说。

我说,”没关系,我过去看看。“

客栈在Kensington的山上。大门紧闭。门口贴了张告示,”酒店主人心脏病发作,客栈关闭。” 按了几下门铃,没有人应答。

我拿手指抹了抹告示,闻了下,挺新鲜的味道。从门缝里看里面,隐约的灯光。想,从机场到这儿,半个多小时,打印这么个新告示出来,效率还行,还挺用心。

我告诉司机,“你给我不断地拨他们电话。” 一边按着门铃。

一会儿,一个30左右的白人经理出来了,他看上去极紧张。

“真对不起,客栈关门了。真对不起,真的,真的关门了。”

我拿出手机,打开视频录制,举起来,对着他,说,“真对不起,听到这消息。能不能麻烦你再说一遍,你的客栈怎么了?”

接下来的一个小时,演着一出极无聊的戏。我就像是一个早就知道结果的观众,又必须演着一个无趣的角色。我希望这客栈真的是关门了,希望我是判断错了,是我错怪了他们。

可惜,事实往往如此让人失望:我的判断是对的。

最终,经理在几乎精神崩溃中,承认了客栈其实是接了重复的预订。解决方案是,他给我安排了另一个更好的五星级的家庭客栈,先住一晚。然后的两晚回到这个客栈,免费。

在24小时的旅程和一个小时的斗智斗勇后,我们又回到了那个几乎同样紧张崩溃的司机车上,开了半个多小时的夜路,到了约翰内斯堡的另一端。93 on Jan Smuts,约堡动物园的边上,非常好的一个Boutique Hotel。

这个酒店的女主人,非常热情的Caren,听着我们的故事,瞪大了眼睛,说,“两周前有两对德国夫妇也是从他们那儿转过来的。说是店主人得了心脏病,客栈关门了!” 被认为容易可欺、直来直往的德国人。

“店主人两个星期里两次心脏病发作,还活着,真是一个很强悍的人哪。”我说。

我们在热情好客的93 on Jan Smuts住了三晚,付费,再也没回去那个免费两晚的Highland View Guesthouse。

my balls are cold, and the hallucination

12点,站在富士山的峰顶,海拔3770米。往下看,一片厚厚的白雪盖住了整个山峰,只有刚才爬上峰顶的一小条,没有被雪盖住。黑色的,犬牙交错的是凝固后的火山熔岩。往上爬着的时候,手脚并用,倒还安全。下山却看着挺危险。气温在5度左右,雪在融化,如果靴底一滑,在这黑色的尖刀般的岩石上摔一跤,效果估计和刮肉的钉板没什么两样。

从早上4点出发,铃木开车,带着我和Marc,从东京两个小时,到了富士山的2500米的第五站。6点45分开始登山。富士山要到7月1日才正式开山,接待登山客。6月底正是东京下雨的季节。我们本来做好了在冰雨和寒风里登山的准备。我们的运气非常好。阳光灿烂,气温在第五站有20度出头。极好的天气。山上没什么人。一路轻松地爬着,直到最后的300米左右,稍有些困难。铃木到了最后两百米不到的地方,崴了脚,只好站在那儿,看着我们爬过最后那一片黑色火山岩。

山顶是一个巨大的火山口。两百多年前,富士山最近的一次爆发。这个活火山的火山口,依稀带些黄色。山口的坡壁很陡。却有一道S型的滑板滑过的痕迹,但到了坡壁的半道却止住了。想来是滑板的人到了那,脚底一软,再没勇气往下滑了。

站在山顶,我和Marc商量了下,觉得还是从雪上走下去比较安全。不过,天暖,雪化,雪水很滑。我刚跨出两步,哧溜一声,就一屁股坐在了雪地上。一路上来,我们都随意穿着牛仔裤。不防水。这一屁股坐下,顿时觉得屁股上一阵冰凉,透彻全身。

Marc在前面,已经滑了几跤。他干脆一屁股坐在雪上,直接往下滑。

我在上面看着,想,这主意不错。不过,他穿的也是牛仔裤。看着他转眼透湿,我心想,这我可不奉陪。我的包里揣了条Gortex的滑雪裤,一路上来没用上,最后下山倒是派上了用场。我一边把滑雪裤换上,一边看着Marc极开心而且极冰冷地一路叫着滑了下去,转眼就到了铃木等我们的位置。铃木立刻也一屁股坐到了雪上,和Marc一起大叫着往下滑。两个冰冷湿裤男,我摇了摇头,想。换好了裤子,我也一屁股坐下,滑了下去。

多刺激的一个滑行!眼前雪花被我的靴子踹着飞溅出去,速度飞快,时不时拿手肘或者靴子勉强控制下速度和方向,一片空旷陡峭的雪坡,只有我们几个人,在雪上像过山车般地滑下去。只有像富士山这样有圆滑形状的山,才能这样地滑下去。爬上来最后一个多小时的一段路,下去只用了5分钟。

在雪将要变成黑火山灰的一段,我追上了Marc,然后,追上了铃木。

他坐在雪地上,裤子全湿透了,正在尖叫,“My balls are cold!!!!!!!!!!!!!!”

他听上去极其快乐,不过。

而我大概有几年没有这么叫和笑过了。

视频: 富士山滑下

———————————-

登完富士山的第二天,几个人一起去东京的国立能乐馆看了能剧,“鹰姬。”

一个老人在一口井边守了50年。井里的水,喝了,能让人返老还童。一个年轻的波斯王子找到了这口井。他也想喝到井中的水。井的守护者,是鹰姬。沉默的守护神灵。王子和老人的打斗。鹰姬和王子的打斗。她施了魔法,让波斯王子昏睡了过去。而井中水这时涌出。老人和年轻的波斯王子都没有喝到井中水。老人继续无结果地守候。王子离去,找新的事去了。

整部剧,是有趣的一个组合。能剧自身已有1000多年的历史。这部剧的剧本却是100年前剧作家叶芝根据爱尔兰传说写的。而整剧的音乐和设置,都是古老能剧的结构和设计。三个表演者,也突破了传统能剧,用了三种不同的表演方式。能剧(老人),现代舞(王子),芭蕾(鹰姬)。三个表演者也都是各自领域的最顶尖人物。

表演者身上的戏服,夺目且珍贵,都有三百多年的历史了。三种表演方式的结合和冲突,而背景是能剧独有的歌唱和音乐,最终的效果,既非爱尔兰古老传说,也未必全是能剧,也超乎舞蹈。奇异,难忘。

这效果几乎有催眠的幻觉作用。

那天夜里,也许是登山的疲劳,外加这奇异的鹰姬,在酒店里,半夜我迷迷糊糊地醒来,恍惚间,床前,似乎正在进行着一场能剧演出。最左边,是黑色的伏着的鹰姬。中间的两个黑影,是老人和波斯王子。他们后面,是一个越来越明亮越来越大的三维蓝色灯球,转动着。

足足有30秒,我才缓过神来。最左边的是桌子,中间的是两把椅子,而转动着的三维蓝球,是房间里的增湿器的蓝色显示屏。

那是很迷人的30秒的精彩演出。

—————

从明治神宫的牌楼下走过,看着道路两边立着的石灯座,汉唐的形制风格,忽然想起,如果中国没有经历过蒙古人的元朝和满人的清朝,两次彻底的游牧文化和审美观对中国文化的大冲击和清洗,外加这60年来的更彻底的破坏,中国也许看上去会更像是一个有古老传统的国家,而非现在的暴发户模样。




富士康

刚看到的,标题是:富士康12连跳。

能不能大家一起帮着从各个角度,让这样的惨剧不要继续发生,而不是幸灾乐祸地屏着气数着,第十几连跳?他妈的,以为是几连冠几进球啊?每一次从楼顶望着硬水泥地面用自己血肉之躯砸上去的,都是一个你我一样的活生生的人。

下午在GroupM Asia年会的演讲,写了个讲稿

最近没有写blog的兴趣。发发speech transcript。

This is a 45 minute speech. I was told that this cannot be simply a speech about Tudou as business, but something inspirational and personal. I have never delivered any such speech longer than 5 minutes, and they were usually delivered to a captive audience of the Tudou team who are obligated to listen and applaud. It would have been so much easier to peddle to you the numbers and facts of Tudou, and why you should allocate your entire media budget to Tudou. I can do that for hours.

But no.

I guess I will give you some background of what motivated me to start Tudou and keep on doing what I am doing for the last five years, and likely many more years to come. Not from a business perspective, but a personal perspective.

What motivates me?

The first, it is about getting no satisfaction. My parents are both doctors. 30 years ago, it was the common practice for all the workers of state and their family to live right inside their work unit. So we lived inside the hospital. I grew up inside the hospital walls and played in the hospital courtyards. It was the leading hospital in our province, so naturally the hospital got the most difficult cases. The very sick, the incurable, the dying. When I was from 8 to 12 years old, my family lived for 4 years in a dorm unit right next wall to the hospital mortuary, where the dead ended up, and they usually proceeded there deep at night, accompanied by relatives whose customs was that howling was the only proper way of mourning. It was a big hospital. Every night some patient would usually die, and often more than one. I was not terribly disturbed. I grew up among the sick and dead, I am used to them, and to this day, I never lose sleep at night no matter what happens. But I suppose those years must have left some marks upon a kid at an impressionable age. Life is probably meaningless, and surely very fragile. Rolling Stone’s song, ‘can’t get no satisfaction’. I have not been able to get satisfaction out of anything, and I have to move constantly. To the U.S., and back to China, and to France, and back, drop out of schools whenever I could not bear it, start Tudou, try new things. Being satisfied means death to me.

The second, to add a little color to life. I went to the U.S. when I was 19, confident and very ignorant. But I was fortunate to meet a great professor at my college. George was an old man already, about to retire, Jewish, distinguished, a consummate New Yorker. He took me under his wings. One day, he asked me, “you look disturbed, why?” My pompous reply: “I’m thinking about the meaning of my life.” And he sighed, “don’t we all.” I always remembered this conversation when I get too narcissistically worried about the purpose of my life. Well, it is most certainly pointless. Not just for me, but for everybody, even for my most distinguished professor who still did not know at his age. What I can do, I always remind myself, is to add a little bit of color to the pale world, and the inevitably pale life. To create something colorful and exciting, and ignore whatever meaning it carries. My job is to create, let others interpret whatever meaning at their leisure.

The third, I don’t like to regret. I don’t like to look back to the past, and I really don’t like to look back to the past in regret. A couple years ago, I did a bicycle trip with a couple buddies. We pedaled from Lhaza to Kathmandu, a trip of 14 days and 10 mountain passes over 5000 meters high. The most difficult pass was the 108 curve, the top of pass at 5200 meters, right before the Mount Everest base camp. I was not in the best shape. It was 6pm, getting dark, and freezing. My buddies had reached the top and gone over. It was too cold and the air too thin for anyone to linger. My knee was hurting like it was going to break. I was going 5 kilometers an hour on a sandy road, headwind, uphill climbing. To give up was the easiest thing. My supply jeep was a short distance away, and one call on my phone with the ever-present China Mobile network would have summoned it. But I knew I would regret it someday, if I gave up. The question was simply, “do I want to regret it the next 20, 30 years, for as long as I live, or do I just kill myself a bit more over the next 2 hours and forget about the whole thing?” So I pushed on. I got to the top around 8pm. Now, looking back, I have totally forgotten the exhaustion and the pain. I remember only the glimpse of Mount Everest in the last fading light, and the exhiliration of reaching the top. And no regret.

That was the personal part.

Coming back to Tudou, my aspiration for Tudou, is to have distribution everywhere. And to bring fun and relevant content to our audience.

The future of tudou is the TV networks of yesterday. Not in the specifics of one way delivery or two way sharing, size or definition,
etc. but in its influence on people’s life.

Distribution: mobile screen, television screen connected to computer, computer screen, Ipad, and who knows what else might be coming. We want to be everywhere, where ever the Internet is present. Tudou will grow bigger and have wider distribution through the open Internet, as inevitable as iceberg will proceed in ice age and recede in our age.

Content. There have been many approaches and many models and everyone claims that theirs is the winning mode. But let us not think about the models for now. Let us go back to the basics. What move people? What were the shows or stories in your young age that you still remember 5, 10 , 20 years later?

The laments from the bygone ages, “it was the best of the times. It was the worst of the times.” Well, every generation, for tens of thousands of years now, probably all think similarly, more or less. And, similarly, the older generation always look at the younger ones as degenerated, reckless, and the old always worry about the future for the young. And the young always think that this is a brave new world. The generation of 100 years ago was as breathless about air travel and electricity, as we are about the Internet and the smart phones. They were as excited as creating new way of painting, impressionism, surrealism, cubism, as many of our video creators as creating new way of telling a story and rendering it differently. Can we let users decide the storyline? Can we do 3D and virtual reality? Can we have shorter video clip at lower cost with greater frequency and yet still compelling? Can we have four screens going at the same time, each telling a different angles of story?

Well, they might all work. A good story is a good story. A good drama is a good drama. Human nature stays pretty much the same. To me, all of above are merely the different ways of telling a story. To debate, for example, which way of doing interaction with the audience is better, is akin to debate whether it is best to tell a story in a first person or third person perspective, or whether it’s more involving to start telling a story with a dead person as a narrator such as “Sunset Boulevard”, or whether a 5 minute long shot in “the secret in their eyes” is better than the fast cut of the “Bourne Trilogy” movies. To me, anything that moves audience’s heart, created within budget, and delivers value for the advertisers and partners, is a piece of good content. Our audience watches on Tudou movies, television series, news, clips about cross-dressing transvestite shopping in flashy fashion stores. They are all entertainment to a particular type of audience, and to a particular advertiser and partner. We as a platform for the youth audience, any content that is fresh, exciting, young, is especially good.

Beyond the immediate business matters of content and distribution, I have often been asked about how it feels like to be a pioneer, to push the boundaries. My answer is: we really have no options but to push the boundaries.

We are not living in the age of great explorers who could cross the unknown ocean and discover a whole new continent. And I don’t see how human species can explore beyond the Moon or the Mars in my lifetime. The deep and great unknown for our age, is the human genome and the Internet. I have no expertise in biology, so I cannot dive deep into the mysterious ocean of human genome. But the great Internet, and the billions of humans connected to it, It is my ocean, my space.

Like all explorers before, there are plenty of things in the world to concern us and tie us down: money, relationships, families, values, customs, rules and regulations, but since we are here in this pale world to paint some colorful colors, to explore, to create new things, to inevitably break up things, to push the boundaries, and since surely we will get old and get mature and settled down, become one day the establishment to be broken up by the newer generation, and become the dead old man, I know the boundaries will eventually catch up and get me. But when they do get me, I hope to have traveled more distances, and have had a lot of fun.

I wish everyone have fun in Shanghai

昨晚刚说到human genome,今天就看到史来第一个完全人造的细胞出现了。

新西兰一周

新西兰430万人口中,130万居住在它最大的城市,奥克兰。城的中心,是一座小山。山顶,是奥克兰也是新西兰最重要的博物馆,the War Memorial Museum。像是世界各地名为War Memorial的许多建筑一样,它也是在第一次世界大战之后,当地人为了纪念一战中死去的亲友们而建的。一战之前,绝大部分的世界享受了几乎50年的大和平年代。一战的杀戮让所有的参与者都恐惧而又迷茫,也让苏联和德国的国家主义和社会主义成为一个可能的社会形态选择。在各地纪念死者、期望和平的名为War Memorial的博物馆、歌剧院、美术馆纷纷建好后不久,第二次世界大战就爆发了。

奥克兰的这个博物馆也不例外。

博物馆门外,有一个方尖碑,上面刻着,the Glorious Dead,光荣的死者。这似乎是从荷马史诗一路流传下来的希腊传统。这是建馆之初的1928年。到了2010年,我从雪和灰土的北京到了透明的蓝色和绿色的奥克兰的时候,博物馆里展出的大部分内容都和战争无关。一楼是白人到来前没有文字的毛利人历史,二楼和三楼是生物和自然进化史,包括了一小部分的白人开始常驻后的1860年至今。只有四楼,还纪念着新西兰作为大英帝国殖民地至今所经历过的几场战争,从拓荒时期的对土著毛利人的小冲突,到1899年前后远在南非的波尔人战争,再到一战,再到二战。时间迁移,战争的规模越大,牺牲越大,越充满恐怖,但战争的目的却离新西兰人自身越来越远 – 从面对毛利人为了每日的生存而战,到最终为了信仰和生活方式和价值观而战,而敌人是重洋之外的德国人和日本人。

无论当年的敌人如何,至少,新西兰人可以从这个很宽敞但是空气依然有些沉滞的博物馆出来,一出门,眼前是高的透明的蓝色的天,几丝白云,蓝色的天下,一层层的绿树和绿的草坪,直伸到远远的蓝色南太平洋的清澈海水。他们中的有些人,也许会觉得这些战争有所值得。

这一次去,是新西兰旅游局的邀请。他们想要证明这是一个很美丽的国家。这一点完全无需证明,任何人到了后的第一天就能知道。它孤悬在大洋中,既有山头顶着千年冰川的大山,也有成千上万的小海湾,精巧的楼房和白帆的帆船点缀其中,有海洋的渔场,也有陈腐的笑话说得人人都知道的比人口还多的绵羊。人口稀少,而土地是这么充裕,以至于连比人口更多的绵羊们也依然显得稀稀落落地三五只零星点缀在草场中。

这当然也是一个极其年轻的国家。

在Central Ortago的葡萄酒庄里,酒庄主人拿着杯Pinot Noir,转着,说,你看,我们这里的土壤从来没有被耕作过,你喝的这杯酒所用的葡萄是有史以来这块地上种过的第一批作物,所有的矿物质都在,这酒的味道因此和美国的和法国的不同。那酒很好,但喝了一口后,淡淡的回味?过了三个小时,舌根依然是浓得化不开的各种余味。

没有历史和文化去回顾,大伙儿就都去了户外。据说,这也是户外运动平均参与度最高的一个国家。20年前,蹦极第一次作为商业活动在新西兰出现。去了商业蹦极的鼻祖地,不算太高,43米,蹦了下,绳子稍微放长些,半身扎到水里,过了把凉水贯顶的瘾。

这地方也让人特别容易放松。在北岛的最北边,自然保护区里,一片绿树和海水边,是一大片几十平方公里的沙丘。拿块滑沙板,喘着气花个十几分钟一路爬到沙丘顶,十来秒滑下来,再上去,再下来,光着脚在滚烫的沙上来回走了几圈,回到车里,抬起脚板一看,居然两个大拇指已经烫出了两个大水泡。同行的两个新西兰向导看了看,说,啊,烫伤了?你需要用薰衣草油抹抹。然后递过瓶水,我接过,翘着两脚丫子在风里晾着,喝口水,大伙儿欣欣然地就开回了城,继续找酒庄去了。

这几乎是个缩微版的大陆。南岛的山峰们看上去都很崇山峻岭状,在指环王里被拍得也是森罗万象,但海拔只不过三千多米。旅游局租了架小飞机,从山顶的冰川飞过,也是一片冷酷仙境的模样,虽然这些冰川的规模也许连乞力马扎罗都比不上,更不用说喜马拉雅山脉的那些高山们。

但是,它们在那,而且很美,而且,还没有足够多的人口去有足够的时间把它们挖得满目苍痍。

新西兰出产玉。绿玉。到处都是销售绿玉制品的商店。几乎是这国家的旅游象征之一。

将要离开前,在奥克兰的街头转悠了一圈。一个绿玉的商店里,推开门进去。中年的女店员,也许就是店的老板娘,看到我进来,悠悠地站起身,直等到我拿起个绿色的玉饰,左右打量了好一会儿,她才开口说。“你从中国来?”

“是。”

“中国也产玉。”

“现在不产了吧。现在好的玉都只能从缅甸来。”我说。

“是吗。那我见过你们以前产的好玉。” 她看着我手上的小玉饰,说,”中国的玉透明,圆润,复杂,颜色似乎进到了玉的最里面。新西兰的玉坚硬,颜色只有绿的,颜色在外面浮着。”

中国,这世界最古老的同一文明持续绵延至今的国家。新西兰,这世界上最年轻的国家。这是它们土壤上各自产出的石头。虽然都叫做玉。