 Rojak is a colloquial Malay word for “eclectic mix,” and is the name for a Javanese dish that typically combines sliced fruit and vegetables with a spicy dressing. In this recurring Flagship feature, we highlight the best newsletter writing from and about Asia. Mr. Worldwide DJs have become the unlikely flag-bearers for globalization at a time of increasingly fractured and nationalist worldviews. Multilateral institutions are under attack and appear in decline, but “for the DJ, another world remains open,” Patrick Kho writes in The Chow. Hong Kong is a perfect example: British influence is retreating as the city becomes more Chinese, but in its clubs, you can hear UK garage music, Western pop, Chengdu rap, and Yunnan reggae — sometimes all blended together. “When you’re listening to a set and you’re hearing a heavy, dark German techno track, and the next track is Daft Punk, it does something to your brain,” one local DJ said. Kho likened the world of DJing to a modern-day Silk Road, in which ideas, trends, and vibes spread through grassroots connections — “an improvised, informal global trade system.” The road runs both ways: Some London DJs are adding Cantopop to their sets. Fake boyfriends, real problems China’s “virtual boyfriend” games are spreading overseas — sparking a fraught debate over cultural identity. Love and Deepspace, in which players battle interdimensional creatures while forming relationships with handsome male avatars, is one such game targeted at Asian markets, but it has since developed a Western following, raising questions about whether these characters are in fact Chinese or white, Peiyue Wu wrote in Calling The Shots. That, in turn, has fueled a wave of nationalist discourse on Chinese social media from users who felt foreign players were “denying the characters’ Chineseness,” Wu noted: It’s clear “that real-world anxieties about race, geopolitics, cultural hierarchy, and recognition are being projected onto these virtual romances.” Gaming is often seen as a potent cultural export for China. But many characters are indeed deliberately racially ambiguous, and exist in worlds that can be applied to different cultural contexts. “Are these games truly exporting Chinese culture? Or are they primarily adapting to global tastes?” The humanoid touch Chinese robot companies really want the public to know they exist. Despite middling sales, the country’s humanoid-makers are spending millions on partnerships at the upcoming Spring Festival Gala, an Olympics-level ceremony widely watched throughout China; last year’s program drew nearly 17 billion views across media platforms. Beyond entertainment, the gala carries institutional weight, China tech analyst Poe Zhao wrote in his newsletter: “Every minute of airtime signals government endorsement.” China’s leading robotics firms haven’t yet shipped many humanoids: The top company reported 5,500 last year. But by “fighting for visibility,” they are creating perceptions of legitimacy to investors, the public, and the government, Zhao argued. The play to capital markets also suggests they may be looking to IPO “before deployment success rates face scrutiny.” |
