打你屁股

永远的怀念
我们心中的家驹

你的歌里有喷涌的血
你的歌里有天真的爱

生死不能隔开灵魂的相通
在困苦中陪你唱理想的歌

看过无极 相比之下我更喜欢张艺谋与高仓健合作的这个片子
无极的英文片名是THE PROMISE 唯一让我欣赏的也就是这个名字了 可我却没看到多少内容 算是比较好的商业片吧
千里走单骑刚开始让我感觉到的是父亲的那种坚持 与那些不理解他的国人相比显得特别有感染力
为了情 为了义 活着 是多么有魅力的事情

八分斋说：我只关注整体 因此放弃个体

我说：我日死你妈

不记得是什么时候 我突然明白了曹雪芹为什么要把红楼梦里面的女人结局个个写得很悲惨 曹想告诉看官的是：在这样一个人文环境里 每个个体的悲惨是注定要发生的 陈易和她母亲的命运不是偶然 是必然 谁能写出反映现在社会的“红楼梦” 还怕得不了诺贝尔吗？为什么在国外用汉字写作可以拿到诺贝尔 在国内你怎么写都拿不到诺贝尔？

如果只给我一个出国的机会 我会毫不犹豫地选择以色列

只有BEYOND的歌和他们的精神 还能使我暂时地振奋

盛中国的盒带

西崎崇子的CD

从小到大 为什么每次听“梁祝”都有眼泪要涌出来的冲动

Loved for Being Herself

By Susan Jakes
Posted Monday, October 3, 2005; 21:00 HKT
Chinese showbiz rarely produces icons. Sure, there are the dozen or so movie actors who can carry a film, and the odd rocker who fills a stadium. But seldom does a face on China's small screen really stand out. Even singing, the national pastime and TV staple, seems reserved for an interchangeable lineup of warbling coquettes, husky crooners and jolly fellows in brass stars and epaulets belting out odes to red flags.

Which helps explain how a 21-year-old Sichuanese music student named Li Yuchun has become one of the most popular figures in China. In August, Li won a televised American Idol-like singing contest produced by Hunan province's Entertainment Channel and bearing its own inimitable name: "Mongolian Cow Sour Yogurt Super Girl's Voice." (Its sponsor makes yogurt.) The show drew the largest audiences in the history of Chinese television. As the competition narrowed, the media covered it like a war or the O.J. Simpson trial. By the time the finale aired, some 400 million people were tuning in.

The Li Yuchun phenomenon, however, goes far beyond her voice, which even the most ardent fans admit is pretty weak: her vocal range drifts between Cher territory and that place your little brother's voice went the summer before seventh grade. As a dancer, she's not much better. Hei Nan, one of the event's judges, told the Guangzhou Daily that Li was "the worst of the top six in terms of singing skills," but noted that she garnered the most audience votes.

What Li did possess was attitude, originality and a proud androgyny that defied Chinese norms. During the tryouts—in which 150,000 contestants were winnowed to 15—Li wore loose jeans and a black button-down shirt, with no make-up and the haircut (and body) of David Bowie during his Space Oddity phase. She auditioned with In My Heart There's Only You, Never Her, an oldie made famous by Taiwan's Liu Wenzheng—a man. In the main competition she sang other songs written for male performers and called herself "a tomboy." For an audience reared on the bubble-gum, lip-gloss standards of Chinese girl pop, Li's disregard for the rule book produced an unfamiliar knee-weakening. Her fans wept openly and frantically shrieked when Li took the stage. The show ruffled feathers among Beijing's commissars. By the final episode, Li and her two remaining rivals had switched their repertoire to patriotic folk songs.

Li's victory was unusual in other ways: like American Idol, but unlike China itself, "Super Girl's Voice" is run democratically. Eight million SMS votes flooded in on the night of the finale. For a few weeks after, the mainland press debated the relevance of this format. "Only something that smashes social norms could elicit such a response," Yu Guoming, a media expert at People's University, told the Beijing News. "After all, in China the opportunities to use votes to choose are relatively few." An editorial in the China Daily wondered: "How come an imitation of a democratic system ends up selecting the singer who has the least ability to carry a tune?" As Li prepares for a nationwide tour with the other finalists, her handlers are loath to discuss the political dimensions of the program or of Li's triumph. Hunan Entertainment Channel refused TIME's requests to interview or photograph Li. According to one of her many agents, they were worried the story would portray Li as more than just an entertainer. But she is more: Li represents unabashed individuality, and that's why she's a national icon.
—With reporting by Nicole Qu/Beijing