White men arriving to Taipei find themselves on the world’s-greatest- ego-tripping-roller-coaster-orgy-of-a-lifetime. Stock-standard, dole- guzzling, Nigel-no-friends, with an IQ of 35, is now being hailed as the last prophet. Women fling themselves at his flabby back in the street, and whilst a good year at home may have gotten him laid five times, he is now getting laid five times a week by different Taiwanese girls. He in turn, affectionately refers to them as the ‘short-cunts’. Nige has never been happier; he’s come down with ‘yellow fever,’ then, by default, entered Muslim heaven where he’s surrounded by virgins dying to have their cherries popped.
Occasionally, he notices something amiss in his feverish world and makes an angst proclamation: “MY MOM’S NOT GONNA EAT WITH FUCKIN’ STICKS!” he cries. But just as quickly he forgets, because too rare is the Asian woman (and I love my Japanese roomie) who screeches: “why is there white trash like you everywhere!?!” The stakes are too high - she knows just how easily she can be replaced, and it is the Chinese way to ‘swallow bitter pills’. Nige and his cronies often stay for years in their make-shift Asian paradise, eventually choosing one hopeful for marriage – at this point they may or may not speak the same language.
I am not one to paint women as victims, but I have to say, too many of the relationships I see around me are an extension of the Asian sex trade – the ‘mail-order bride’ ideal, just with a trial period. This may be a wild claim, but I could spend hours substantiating it with examples of miscommunications, empty promises, emotional and physical violence, rampant infidelities, rapes, druggings, and sexual exploitation. Too many Asian women have burning and gruelling stories about foreign men that wrench at your guts; these women are Asia’s disposable people.
Maybe money isn’t directly passing hands in Taipei, but in most cases she’s hoping for a better life, financial gain, or a higher social status, by offering sex and a type of servitude; which he takes, disposes of, takes, disposes of, takes, and disposes of. Soon after arriving, Nige starts to wholeheartedly believe he is extraordinarily desirable (so why didn’t anyone at home notice?), a beacon of light to the misguided, a sparkling gem in a pile of shit – oh, sweet yellow fever, never stop pulsing your poison through my veins, for I now truly believe in my delusions of white grandeur!
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Occasionally, he notices something amiss in his feverish world and makes an angst proclamation: “MY MOM’S NOT GONNA EAT WITH FUCKIN’ STICKS!” he cries. But just as quickly he forgets, because too rare is the Asian woman (and I love my Japanese roomie) who screeches: “why is there white trash like you everywhere!?!” The stakes are too high - she knows just how easily she can be replaced, and it is the Chinese way to ‘swallow bitter pills’. Nige and his cronies often stay for years in their make-shift Asian paradise, eventually choosing one hopeful for marriage – at this point they may or may not speak the same language.
I am not one to paint women as victims, but I have to say, too many of the relationships I see around me are an extension of the Asian sex trade – the ‘mail-order bride’ ideal, just with a trial period. This may be a wild claim, but I could spend hours substantiating it with examples of miscommunications, empty promises, emotional and physical violence, rampant infidelities, rapes, druggings, and sexual exploitation. Too many Asian women have burning and gruelling stories about foreign men that wrench at your guts; these women are Asia’s disposable people.
Maybe money isn’t directly passing hands in Taipei, but in most cases she’s hoping for a better life, financial gain, or a higher social status, by offering sex and a type of servitude; which he takes, disposes of, takes, disposes of, takes, and disposes of. Soon after arriving, Nige starts to wholeheartedly believe he is extraordinarily desirable (so why didn’t anyone at home notice?), a beacon of light to the misguided, a sparkling gem in a pile of shit – oh, sweet yellow fever, never stop pulsing your poison through my veins, for I now truly believe in my delusions of white grandeur!
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