上个月文德的题目还没回答呢：不过文德你那里的留言中杂草也太多了吧
Winter实验室: 点名游戏
1 你小时候的理想是什么？
可以天天玩……
2 你现在的理想是什么？
围上一片山，杂草都可以自然的疯长……
3 如果你的生命只有3天时间，你最希望完成的3件事情是什么？
a 陪太太
b 陪父母
c 给朋友一一祝福
今天才又看到Celia的留言：
PPCR
以下是Celia出的题：
1。你如何评价目前还不知道《一个馒头引发的血案》是怎么回事的人？
小声告诉他……
2。你的爱人此时此刻与你同处一室吗？
yes.
3。目前有哪一项公益事业让你愿意为它捐献50块钱？
多背一公斤
4。你觉得google.cn的发布是否是个正确决定？
是，这也是我们搭建中文维基百科的镜像的原因：wikipedia.cnblog.org
From the Financial Times:
Baidu.com, China's most frequently used internet search engine, said net profits last year rose nearly fourfold to RMB47.6m ($5.9m), driven by online advertising sales......For the full year, Baidu said revenues were up 172 per cent at RMB319.2m, while fourth-quarter sales were 168 per cent higher than the same period last year at RMB114.9m, exceeding projections by Wall Street analysts.
Baidu's financial results suggest there has been sustained demand for online search and advertising services in the country...
...The company said it currently had 63,000 online advertisers.
The article does not give numbers for Google's performance in China, but it ends with a little dig at Google from Baidu founder Robin Li:
"For us, it's very simple - we just obey the Chinese law," said Mr Li. "We grew up in this country - we understand better [when it comes to the rules and culture] - it's really up to them [foreign companies] to do whatever they want to do."
注：本文应杨栗小姐邀约，为《时尚旅游》写的一篇关于上海的文章。写于2006年1月5日。当时要到北京出差，看起来有些伤感和酸秀才味道，可见当时不想去出差。今天《时尚旅游》3月期上架，我也就可以放心转载过来了。
今天上海下雪了。
我正准备登上到北京的上航飞机白色的玄梯，忽然发现随着寒风飘摇的，一把一把的白色颗粒，居然是雪。那是一种像鹅毛一样，没有一点重量，看起来丝毫没有造就积雪的可能性的雪。雪片是不规则的，像被子里飘出的棉花丝一样几片粘连在一起，丝毫没有北方那种六角型标准的雪花的样子。
上海很少下雪。这估计是我经历的第四个下雪的冬天，也是我洛阳来到上海的第十个冬天。虽然很多人不把洛阳看作一个典型的北方城市，我却一直以北方人自居。上海，对于我，永远是南方，永远是一个不一样的地方。如果也像很多人一样，急忙的，傲慢的把世界分成两大阵营：正常的和不正常的阵营的话，上海，对于在北方长大的我，一直是一个“不正常”的城市。十年，这种不正常的感觉少了不少，却总是固执的人为，不是上海变得正常了，而是自己变得不正常了。
对不正常的城市的心理上的接纳，需要很长的时间。我认识的从北方移居上海的朋友中，从来没有一个在前两年就喜欢上上海的。冰冷，乱糟糟，小气，排外等等贬义词都是大家过节聚在一起吃火锅时，就着热腾腾的锅底常用来形容上海的词语。“离开上海”，“一定要离开上海”，大家七嘴八舌的说。
不过也怪，在我的这些朋友中，过了两年还不喜欢上海的，好像只有一个叫Joanna的姓肖的北京女孩，其它的北方朋友，包括我在内，都融到了这个城市了。虽然口上还或多或少的表露出都这个城市的不屑，却越来越喜欢这里，更是不可救药的染上了以前最讨厌上海人身上出现的那种无时不在的优越感。
我记得95年刚刚到上海的时候，这个城市如此陌生。对于来自一个古都的人，怎么想得通为什么街道都是那么狭窄，并且毫无方向，让人分不清东西南北。比如华山路为什么可以开始是条南北的路，走着走这就变成了东西方向，却又在不经意的时候折回南北？为什么小的弄堂可以小到似乎猫走过去都会费劲？“或许是历史的原因吧”，我坚持这样认为。或许在这个城市里新建的部分，大家会有些“正常的”规划呢。于是，当我看到交大闵行校区的规划中，在广袤的农田上，先画了大大的两个相交的圆圈，以此作为主干路，把楼房乱七八糟的点缀在路的两旁，我就彻底绝望了。后来又看到浦东的规划，在还完全没有路的时候，硬是一望无垠的空地上，划出了一条从陆家嘴到世纪公园的45度的斜线，命名曰世纪大道。在这条宽宽的马路路的尽头，画了一个1/4圆的一段圆弧，包裹起来世纪公园，命名为锦绣路。上海很特殊，很有趣，有他自己的想法。就像她的道路一样，弯的，实用的是她的精神，而不会是有严格的，有气势的，和容易理解的。
这时，我总算明白，我与这个城市的不合，不仅仅在和建筑上，在食物上，在市井的人们的交往上，更是在更深层次的思维的习惯上。不仅仅是城市建筑的形态塑造了这个城市的思维，更是这种思维不断地在塑造这个城市的外观，她的细节，也在默默地塑造着像我这样的一个上海新移民的心态。
两年过去了。慢慢的，开始喜欢这个城市。上海话不见得是一种嘲弄了。糍饭团不见得是不能下咽，上海的冬天很冷，但也有些清凉的味道。百盛门口号称每天都有几万人在那里相约见面，但这已经不是我专程去参观的原因，而是我也成了那几万人中间的一员。平平常常的日子，就一天天过去，不知不觉中，这个城市越来越熟悉，一个又一个偶然的机会中，慢慢的探索这个城市每一个还没有去过的街道还有小店。在街边的小饭馆，小公园，小店铺或者小弄堂里，都留下了一些故事和记忆。自己就这样融到这个城市里去了。
四年前，到成都出差。住在成都的市中心。晚上九点左右走出宾馆，想买包餐巾纸，却发现街道都黑了，好似没有商店的样子。就这样，不经意间就的想念起上海的好似无处不在几乎每一分钟都在营业的便利店，想念起来便利店在深夜里白得刺眼的灯光，柜台上面冒着热气的黄金虾球，以及后面穿着格格衣服，讲着不是很标准的普通话的店员们。进而又想起了上海的或喧闹或幽静的街道，以及熟悉的充斥耳朵的各种声响。。。我记得很清楚，那个时候，我平生第一次很真切地感到，我想上海了。
我以前是从来不想念一个他乡的城市的。从那个时候起，我开始想念这个城市的各种味道，各种声音，还有她的气质。我很吃惊，怎么会爱上一个那么不正常的城市？怎么会想念一个吃也吃不好，睡也睡不踏实，不会讲当地的语言，甚至街道都是歪歪扭扭的城市呢？
如果说爱一个人，会从一个瞬间开始，那个时候，我觉得我是开始爱这个城市了。从十年前带着一个箱子只身来到上海，到习惯她，直到爱上他，我花了六年的时间。从成都回来，每一天，我越发喜欢这个城市，被这个城市同化，说起话来，也开始使用“造”房子，而不是“盖”房子；也开始用“不要太开心”这样原来看起来怪怪的说法了。开始很自豪的带朋友来参观每一个新建成的景点。
“离开这个城市？”谁还在乎这个傻乎乎的建议呢？
摄影：张千里
P.S. 和《三联》一样，这次我的名字还是王健硕。我相信编辑用的是微软拼音输入法。。。
。这果然是很土的作法。
a visualization of tags within an arbitrary live XML/RSS feed by showing a matrix of corresponding images taken from the Flickr image database. see also flickrfling & tagnautica.
[anoptique.com|thnkx Olivier]
Li Datong is difficult to locate at first, at a glance he could have been any one of a number of middle-aged bespectacled gentlemen taking a break over cigarettes and tea in the crowded lobby of the Poly Building, a PLA multiplex sporting a modern theatre, art displays, a hotel and office block not far from his office at the China Youth Daily. Then I see a man emerge from the glare of sunlight by the front window, wearing a jacket but not a tie, waving me over to his table with a grin. That he had staked out a seat in the brightest yet most secluded spot in the café is somehow fitting for a diffident but determined local journalist stepping into the international media spotlight for the first time.
Embattled editor Li Datong appears to be in excellent spirits. He smiles often and his eyes are clear and alert. Freezing Point, the supplement he edits for China Youth Daily is closed down, he has been banished from the newsroom, his name is blocked in search engines, but he is communicating in every way he can.
Although he does not speak English, he has in recent days shown an unprecedented willingness to talk to the foreign press, in translation, in the hopes that some of what he has to say will be translated back to Chinese and distributed domestically. In doing so, he’s breaking the wishes of authorities who would prefer he did not speak to the foreign press.
In the last few days he has spoken to Asahi Shimbun, Die Zeit, Kyodo News, Yomiuri Shimbun, Financial Times and CNN in order that he might continue to say what he wants to say, albeit indirectly, to the people of China, and more critically, given his battle of wills with certain party censors, the leaders of China. When asked if he is being followed or monitored, he grins again. He seems unfazed even though the answer to both is in the affirmative.
"I watch the traffic for signs of being tailed and I sometimes say hello to the unknown people listening in on my phone, but I continue to do what I must do. I have nothing to hide," he says with gritty confidence. "What I do is legal and supported by the constitution of my country."
He explains that he had been abruptly transferred out of the newsroom into a research post, involuntarily, while his popular and sometimes controversial news supplement Freezing Point was closed down. He is guardedly optimistic about appealing the decision.
I asked him if the article by Professor Yuan Weishi, “Modernization and Chinese Historical Textbooks” challenging orthodox views of Chinese history, was the reason he got closed down.
“No, of course not. They have been warning me for a long time, at least once a month. They didn’t like my running stuff by Taiwan writer Lung Yingtai and some other things. It’s not one article, it’s everything, everything we do in Freezing Point.”
So, why single out that article?
“That’s just an excuse, they needed an excuse to close me down, and they chose that particular topic, history, because that’s an area they can easily manipulate public opinion on.”
He says the traditional view of history Professor Yuan discussed can be compared to being weaned on the milk of wolves. That’s a way of saying it’s all black and white, China against its implacable enemies, a winner-takes-all kind of struggle. So along comes Professor Yuan suggesting on the basis of his research that not all foreigners were bad and not all Chinese were good, this is going back to the Opium War, and you have a topic upon which the party can score points. He says he’s gotten harsh responses to running the history piece from some readers --it touches an identity issue-- something his official detractors can exploit.
He says that China’s press is freer than ever while paradoxically it remains as under control as ever. One way to illustrate this is an expanding balloon marked by a design that gets bigger as the balloon gets bigger.
I told him I had noticed that in some of his writings in defense of journalism he was quick to quote Marx, like the counterthrust he directed at his boss, saying “the trust of the people is necessary for a newspaper to live, without which it will shrivel.”
When I ask if invoking the name of Marx to protect press freedom is an example of using the red flag to fight the red flag, he gathers his thoughts, then smiles. “It’s more like making sure whatever trick they try to use rebounds back on them.”
Listening to Li Datong, his intense gaze now and then broken by someone walking by, I’m reminded of the comment Malcolm X made about sitting in shops. Keep your back to the wall, remain alert. He pauses only rarely, focused as he is on the flow of thought, deeply committed as he is to the cause of keeping his compact with his readers. Freezing Point is due to resume publication in March without the editorial leadership of Li Datong. To add insult to injury, the first issue is slated to include a state-mandated apology for running the Yuan Weishi article, which as Li explains, neatly frames the shutdown as an issue of nationalism.
It’s clear that Li loves his job and is a newspaperman through and through, very much of the ink and paper tradition, but he is quickly learning the power and speed of the internet now that his traditional platform for expression has been taken away.
