"Nearly Every English Major Female, Nearly Every STEM Major Male"
Lijian was surprised at first, and still, it made him somewhat uncomfortable, that his class was nearly all girls. Out of his class’s 100 students, there were only 5 boys.
In most of his subjects, he was one of only two or three boys. Aside from Lijian, always in the front of the class (with the sole exception being his Oral English class) the few other English major boys would often sit nervously, huddled next to one another, in the farthest reaches of their estrogen-filled lecture halls and classrooms.
Lijian couldn’t figure out why, why there were so few boys in his class… Why was it that, in his college, boys and girls were separated by majors? Nearly every English major was female, and nearly every STEM major, Business major was male…
Cancel Culture | Kim Cancer The girls at college appeared so different from those at his high school, too, appearing more like K-pop girl group stars than college students. They had long hair, short hair, curly hair, hair dyed every single color of the rainbow.
Instead of loose sweatsuit-like high school uniforms, many wore low-cut shirts, short skirts, short shorts, silk stockings, fishnet stockings, tight jeans, thigh-high boots, and stiletto heels. Some had breasts the size of watermelons. Some had glittery painted fingernails almost as long as cigarettes.
And the makeup, like Dou Dou, many were caked in makeup, blazing red lipsticks.
He’d never seen such girls, girls looking like that, aside from in music videos and films.
Lijian would find himself, late at night, in his dormitory room, with the curtain drawn over his combo desk/bunk bed, at times unable to sleep as he’d fight to resist his impure, immoral thoughts of the girls in his class, the girls around campus. The carnal thoughts flitting through his head. His lewd ruminations swinging on a mental jungle gym of images, images of girls, images of his classmates’ slender bodies… The images occupying, tormenting his mind.
Especially his immoral thoughts of Dou Dou, who’d sit in front of him in the Oral English class. Dou Dou, goddess-like in her aura, the sweet smell of her perfume curling into his nostrils. How the young girl would lean forward in her seat, exposing the tip of her lacy panties.
But he’d persevere! Vanquish the impure thoughts tormenting his psyche. He’d flashback to the cool fall day. Standing atop the massive jaw of bone-gray concrete steps, outside the campus library, looking down and watching the baboon, Wilson, and Dou Dou, the pair ambling together, smiling and clucking under the yellowing leaves of autumnal trees. Then he’d remind himself that she was a whore. A white-worshipping whore!
Then he’d silence his mind with the soothing sounds of patriotic PLA songs, Chairman Mao and Chairman Xi’s speeches, and comforting images of hypersonic missile attacks on US warships, nuclear attacks on Japan.
Cancel Culture | Kim Cancer
Once, when experiencing impure thoughts about Dou Dou’s body, Lijian found himself remembering the Soviets’ “honeypot” traps.
But no! NO! No, not here! Chinese would never resort to such heathenry, he assured himself. While Lijian loved Stalin and Lenin, he often looked down on most of the Russians, especially that rat-faced Gorbachev. Lijian thought of most Russians as only one step up from British and American scum. Thought of them as pathetic losers for abandoning the glorious cause of Communism, for betraying Socialism…
But then he’d be calmed again, thinking that the collapse of the USSR was further proof of the superiority of Socialism with Chinese Characteristics, and of China’s superiority over all other nations! Lijian becalmed himself knowing that China, Glorious Mother China, and its illustrious 5000 years of history would always be NUMBER ONE!
Despite his heartbreak, disappointment in Dou Dou, Lijian persisted in his efforts to learn the imperialists’ inferior language. And he was successful, even winning a speech contest and an essay contest in his first semester, the only freshman to ever accomplish that feat.
It was days after he’d won the essay contest, and its ¥1000 prize (which he’d immediately sent home to his grandparents) that he received a text message from his department chair, summoning him to a meeting, saying someone very important wished to speak with him.
"The Wumao Whisperer"
When Lijian arrived at the meeting, he was shocked to see his classmate, Dou Dou.
The girl was stone-faced, had worn a looser-fitting dress than usual. Next to her was the department head, Comrade Hua, a mousy, rake-thin, middle-aged man with shifty eyes and hollow cheeks. The man had skin dark as oolong tea, and a high, slanting forehead. His slab of coal-black hair was combed to the left and appeared heavily gelled.
Assessing his physiognomy, Lijian suspected Comrade Hua hailed from in or around Inner Mongolia.
Standing between Comrade Hua and Dou Dou was a well-dressed, vigorous-looking, 40ish man. He was tall, handsome, had a cinnamon glow to his skin, and was stiff jawed, flashing a crooked smile of pearly white teeth. The smiling stranger wore an impeccably pressed, spotless white collared dress shirt, and crisp black slacks that were perfectly hemmed.
Further to Lijian's surprise, as he entered the room, everyone spoke in English, and only in English.
Comrade Hua addressed Lijian first, his voice a fit of hushed, raspy bursts, "Lijian, I am sure you are familiar with Comrade Dou Dou. She is head of the school's Communist Youth League."
Suddenly, it made sense to Lijian, why he'd seen the girl with the foreigner. She wasn't a whore, after all. She was a spy, keeping tabs on the devil, protecting Mother China! Lijian felt a rush of shame surge up into his throat, like vomit, and his cheeks flamed in embarrassment. He was ashamed he'd ever questioned her, thought so poorly of her.
"This, Lijian, is Comrade Zhang. He is from the Shanghai Municipal People's Government."
The two shook hands and Lijian lightly bowed his head in reverence. Then Comrade Hua motioned for everyone to sit in the office's chestnut-brown, synthetic wood chairs.
Cancel Culture | Kim Cancer Comrade Zhang locked eyes with Lijian and spoke in an almost staccato rhythm.
Hearing the Shanghaiese-inflected high and low pitches of his accent, Lijian could tell the man was a native of Shanghai.
"Comrade Lijian," Zhang said, his hands clasped, his expression turning dour, "As everyone knows, we are in a new day and age. The age of information. Everything is online. Everyone is online. Everyone is locked to their phone. Discussion, debate, information, everything is electronic. The digital space, the internet is a new front, a new battlefield. This is not hyperbole. It is a war. A war of narratives. A war of information."
Comrade Zhang paused, squinted his eyes, and leaned forward, closer to Lijian, close enough that Lijian could smell the scent of cigarettes on his breath.
Comrade Zhang then went on, "This, this is a war China must win."
Lijian nodded intently. From the very minute he'd lain eyes on the man, he'd been enamored. This man was everything Lijian wished to be.
"Comrade Lijian," Zhang continued, "we have reviewed your essay, 'Why China is the Greatest Nation in the World,' and we have diligently examined your classwork. You write very, very fluently in English. In many of your writings, you could be mistaken for a native speaker of this language."
Blushing, his cheeks turning hot pink, Lijian modestly glanced down at the floor, shook his head. Looking at his worn Anta tennis shoes, he then peered over at Comrade Zhang's sparkling wingtips, then lifted his gaze to again meet Comrade Zhang's steely glare.
"We want to recruit you. We have a mission, a mission to explain China's side of the story. It is a mission to advance China's place in the world, to rejuvenate the Chinese nation, to restore our nation to its rightful place."
Lijian was already sold. He'd do anything asked of him to help advance China's causes.
"We will provide you with a new phone and computer. On each, you will be set up with a VPN. It is a software that will enable visits to hostile nations' websites. You will log on to these sites, register accounts, and then comment below the articles.
The articles hostile to China's interests and reputation. You will also be required
Cancel Culture | Kim Cancer to join Western social media sites, Twitter, Facebook, Reddit, YouTube, and there you will participate in discussions, refute the enemy's scandalous verbal attacks on China."
Lijian nodded his head intently, bobbing it almost like a pigeon. As Comrade Zhang leaned toward him, he spotted a gold pack of Xiongmao cigarettes in Zhang's breast pocket.
"We will send you the talking points. We will also show you the ways to disrupt conversations. You will be sent links to articles, by us, and you will also be expected to search for the hostile social media posts and articles. Every comment you make on social media posts, or articles, you copy and paste, you keep log of, and you will return to us, every week."
"For each word you write, you will be paid 5 mao."
So it was true, Lijian thought. They do pay posters for their online comments.
He'd heard rumors but didn't know they were true. Now he knew.
"But do not aim for quantity. Remember that we will monitor your online behavior. We will monitor every of your post, every of your comment. Aim for quality. The higher quality comments can earn larger compensation.
Compensation can be 10 renminbi a word."
"When we send link to articles, we also send important points for you to stress, abide. Be sure to abide the points."
Lijian again nodded, pursed his lips.
"But we must warn you, Comrade Lijian. The things you will meet on Twitter, on comment sections in the New York Times, on the Reddit, others, it's…" Zhang paused again, this time taking a longer pause, and Lijian heard a faint clicking coming from the office's wall-mounted air conditioner.
Comrade Zhang then shook his head, scowled, and took a deep draw of air. Then he continued, "it is scandalous. The filth. The terrible things they say to smear our glorious nation. You will see terrible, terrible slanders. The worst, most unharmonious ideas, the most incorrect ideas, things that will make the stomach turn, things that will make you want to puke up your rice. Comrade Lijian, can you
Cancel Culture | Kim Cancer
handle this? Are you courageous enough to accept this difficult, yet honorable, and crucial task?"
Lijian stood to his feet. His posture straight as a soldier's. His face hardened into a mask of determination. He then cried out, "Comrade Zhang, I am ready!!"
