China DOS Union

If I ran into him, I'd first let him taste the terror of nunchaku made of copper.

Then I'd have the kids watching pee into a mineral water bottle, mix in yellow dirt, gasoline, dog shit, plus the spit of someone wearing a mask. Then force him to drink it.

Finally I'd strip off all his clothes and use lime to write on him: "Whoever offends the women and children of China shall be executed, no matter how far away!" Then drag him around Tiananmen Square for a couple of laps to make a public spectacle of him.

And add some English too, strike a pose, and take a close-up. Hehe

One word, beat him!
Two words, beat the hell out of him!!

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This happened in April 2003, when that strange pneumonia was spreading. I remember it was an early spring evening. Several coworkers including Lu Zhao and I went to eat together at a Commander Tang Hotpot restaurant on Shuicheng Road in Shanghai at the time. That day, at the table next to ours, there was a group of Japanese eating there too.
　　　　　　
　　At the beginning of the meal, the Japanese at the next table were quite civilized, polite in speech and manner, and from time to time they even nodded greetings to the people at our table. After a few rounds of drinks and dishes, this bunch of Japanese devils started showing their true colors. Several Japanese men began shouting loudly about something, all looking somewhat drunk.
　　　　　　
　　At that time, most of the waitresses in the hotpot restaurant were girls from northern Jiangsu and Sichuan. Although they still had a bit of rustic country air about them, once they put on those elegant Tang-style work uniforms, they had something of a fairy-like bearing.
　　　　　　
　　A few of those slightly drunk Japanese devils started getting out of line. First they teased them with words, then their hands started getting a bit dirty too. Several waitresses were so frightened that they dodged while shouting and crying out, and those devils became even more pleased with themselves, actually leaving their seats and chasing the waitresses all around the hall.
　　　　　　
　　The several Taiwanese people with them actually stood by laughing and watching the show, and some even applauded what the "devils" were doing. A tall waitress from northern Jiangsu with narrow slit-like eyes, Xiao Chen, hid by our table, scared so badly that her face changed color.
　　A Japanese man around 40 years old staggered toward the waitress hiding beside us. Lu Zhao, a few of the other guys, and I shouted at him, trying to stop him.
　　　　　　
　　Our shouting only made those Japanese even more pleased with themselves, and even crazier. He lunged in front of that waitress, forcibly grabbed her in his arms, and kept yelling something I couldn't make out...
　　　　　　
　　I was the closest to that Japanese man. At that moment I felt the blood in my whole body boiling. I suddenly stood up, grabbed him by the back of the collar, and when he turned around, I smashed a punch into his face. Right away that "devil's" face blossomed open, blood coming from his nose and mouth. This "devil" wasn't easy to handle either. He let go of the waitress and pounced at me like a wild beast, taking a dueling stance and throwing a punch at me. I stepped aside and dodged, took an empty Suntory beer bottle handed over by Lu Zhao, and smashed it down onto that "devil's" head.
　　　　　　
　　The "devil" went down, blood flowing from his head. The other Japanese hurried over to help him up. The several Taiwanese people with them shouted loudly for security: "Somebody come quick, somebody come quick! Arrest this violent thug who hit someone!" The hotpot restaurant security rushed up. More than ten people held me down tightly. The several Taiwanese were terrified, all pale-faced, busily making calls to contact emergency treatment from nearby Changning District Central Hospital.
　　　　　　
　　The first to arrive were police from the Xianxia Road police station, and one of them was even the husband of my coworker Chen Ting. Without another word, the police put handcuffs on me, saying I had injured an international friend, caused a serious international impact, and damaged China's reputation.
　　　　　　
　　Lu Zhao tried to reason with the police, but he was also handcuffed by Chen Ting's husband, who said he was an "accomplice."
　　　　　　
　　That night, I was taken to the Xianxia Road police station and locked in a shabby room, handcuffed to the iron bars on the window. Fortunately, when Chen Ting's husband heard that I worked in computer design at Zhanjia Technology, he didn't treat me like Lu Zhao, who got beaten badly first. He just kept me locked up like that. Around midnight, several officials of considerable rank came, declaring that I would definitely be dealt with severely, saying that since I had dared to hit a Japanese person, I absolutely had to be sentenced.
　　　　　　
　　I felt indescribably furious, but no one listened to me explain what had happened. It was as if the one I had hit wasn't a Japanese man, but their own father.
　　　　　　
　　I knew nothing at all about what was going on outside. I just stayed there muddleheaded all night in that police detention room.
　　　　　　
　　The next morning, a little after 9 o'clock, around the time I should have been at work, things took an ending no one had expected.
　　　　　　
　　The Japanese man I had beaten, with bandages wrapped around his head and tape on his face, personally came to the police station with the Taiwanese people, wanting to apologize to me in person.
　　　　　　
　　This Japanese man named Sakai could actually speak fluent Chinese. I was told he was the chief representative in China of a Japanese exhibition company. What Sakai said then is something I still cannot forget: "Mr. Gao, I have been in China for three years. The Chinese people I have met have all been very polite to us Japanese. Whatever we say goes. Every one of them is like a servant to us; there are no men among them. But Mr. Gao, you taught me a lesson. You are one of your Chinese men's men. Please forgive my disgraceful conduct last night. I was drunk. I offended the dignity of the Chinese people. I deserved what I got. You hit me well. It woke me up. I ask your pardon!" As Sakai said this, he gave me a deep bow. All the Japanese accompanying him solemnly bowed to me as well, each with an expression of utter sincerity.
　　　　　　
　　Because of Sakai's remorse, the Xianxia Road police station stopped pursuing my responsibility, and I was told I was fine and could go back to the company to work. But when I saw the contemptuous look Sakai gave the Taiwanese people and the police, my heart still felt heavy.
　　　　　　
　　When Sakai left Shanghai, he once asked someone to arrange another meeting with me, but I politely declined. Later he had someone send me a Japanese samurai sword, and I passed that sword on to my friend Zhang Hua, who practiced martial arts. In the following days, although Sakai said on qq and msn that he wanted to send me a greeting card, I never replied to him. What was there to say...
　　　　　　
　　I hate the Japanese. The crimes they committed against the Chinese are truly too numerous to record.
　　　　　　
　　But I hate even more those people who cannot straighten their backs in front of the Japanese, people like eunuchs. It is exactly their servility and bootlicking that has made today's Japanese still so arrogant, still contemptuously calling China "Shina," still refusing to acknowledge the crimes they committed during the invasion of China... all these things that damage the feelings of the Chinese people are still happening today: the "Toshiba" incident, the "Mitsubishi Pajero" incident, the JAL discrimination against Chinese passengers incident, the Diaoyu Islands incident, Koizumi's visits to Yasukuni Shrine...
　　　　 　　
　　What China needs today, even more, is men and heroes! I see there are many hot-blooded young people here, so I ask that this post be reposted, hoping to arouse everyone's resonance, unite in hatred against the enemy, and bring glory to China.
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What's there to say, beat him up first and talk later