Commentary, on how the son is, ill-fitted in his actions of, fighting his father for the rights of his father’s, company, written by the former head of the examination department here, off of the Front Page Sections, translated…
My father was raised in poverty, he couldn’t pay his school tuition, he’d never, gone to, elementary school, but, don’t know where he’d learned, he was excellent in Chinese, with perfect calligraphy writing, and he was able to, live off of his skills in calligraphy writing.
Recalling how as the fight of the nationals and the communists was happening, the nationals were defeated, and they’d, retreated, and the government that was originally in Anhui, got moved to Lihuang, a mountain side town, and it’s now, Jingzhai. My father worked as a recordkeeper of the city’s finance office, copying down the government papers. His duties were to recopy what others wrote illegibly again better, he didn’t get paid enough, it was too hard, having to keep the three of us, children. After the war was won, he was introduced to work in the engineering department of the Union Work headquarters, and started as a lieutenant in paperwork, but because he’d lacked the educations, he’d worked for more than thirty years in that specific rank, and was, discharged. Although, our father wasn’t, achieved at all in his work, but he’d still, managed, to raise us all up into adults, and that counted for, something, right?
My father had a foul temper, and would abuse our mother from time to time: although, he’d done no huge harms, but to us children, it’d still, upset us, and so, we’d all, missed our mother more than we had our, father. But, thinking of how he’d, worked so hard, to raise us all up, along with the love and concern, he’d shown, toward us, three brothers and sister, we’d still, cried over him.
My father saved up all he’d earned in his life, for us. The best clothes he’d ever owned, was that, suit in black. Remembered how I was very much in love with Ms. Su to the point of discussing marriage, the family invited their future daughter-in-law to meet at Yangming Mountain, and although it was, a casual outing of sorts, my father still, put on that, black suit of his. Not for the sake of, being presentable, but because that, was the only thing that looked, formal that he’d, owned.
Y, I’d remembered getting sick when I was a first-grade student. He’d gotten down with the bowing and kneeling, step by step, all the way up the mountains, to beg the Goddess of Mercy to bring me back to health again.
Doing this ritual, to the temples to offer the incense was, nothing easy! But for the sake of his own son, no matter how trying he was, willing, to shoulder, can you not call him, a loving enough father, to us, his young?
As we were growing up, every morn, our father would kiss the three of us on the foreheads. This was told to us by our mother, she said, “look how much he loves you guys, you are, his, life!” my mother also told us, that he’s a good father; that if he could show more love to our mother, he would be, the model father for sure.
Because we were poor growing up, we all loved listening to the stories of sword masters on the radio broadcasts, but, we didn’t have a radio, so we’d, gone to our neighbors window, stood outside, and listened, and still, got into the stories. Once my father fell ill, he thought it was, incurable, and quickly, gone to buy us a Central Broadcasting Company’s radio for us, to leave behind for us, in case, that he’s soul ascended, and he’d still, had to worry about his children, standing under someone else’s roofs, listening to the programs. What people want to do before they die, are usually what they deemed to be, most, important. That just showed, how deeply our father loved, and cared for, his children, to the point to very, intense!
Recently I read off of the papers, that a public traded company with the long running history, the father and son fought for the right to operate the business, they’d, gone at one another’s, throats. And, the assortments of measures were, pulled out to use against one another too. Those bad words were, mouthed out, they’d, taken each other to court too. There are, a lot of similar instances like this one, but, too rare, have a pair of father and son, go so, bluntly, at one another’s, throats! As for who’s right and who’s wrong in the matter, it’s not for us, those on the outside of the families, to call.
But I want to ask this son: where did you come from? Even if you are, amazing at what you do, where did you get your skills? Where did you get your chances in life? Weren’t they all, from your, father? Where did you get your chances in life? Weren’t they all, from your, father? Your father is aging, how much longer, do you think, he will, have? Should a fitting son treat his own father like so? Should you, treat your father like that? I want to tell this son who’s, fighting for power: you’d, gone, overboard! And, when the nights come in your life, you will, regret, it!
Yeah, just because you read off of what you read off the papers, like this particular case of how the son was, fighting the father for the rights to operate the company, that does NOT mean, that the father is, entirely, faultless, I mean, sure, from the surfaces, the father had, worked so very hard, to provide for his families, given everything to his own children, his son, so they won’t have to, worry about, their, livelihood, and now, the son is grown, and fought the father for the operating rights of the father’s company that he’d, set up, and you automatically believed, that his son is, ill-fitted, that’s just S-H-I-T, because you don’t have ALL the facts, I mean, are you a part of the family that got into the fights? No, so what RIGHT have you, to comment on how the son is, ill-fitting as the son? And this still just showed, how the CHINESE people are, too focused on the values of, “filial piety”, that no matter what, we the offspring, MUST, treat our own parents (simply because our father FUCKED our mothers, donated that one mother, FUCKING tadpole!), to MAKE us, and we’re supposed to be, showing ALL our, gratitudes, to our mothers, because they’d, carried us, for nine FUCKING whole months, then, underwent EXTENSIVE labor, to get us out into the world, but hey, you fucking adults FAILED to realize, that NONE of us, children, want to be BROUGHT into, this god damn, FUCKING (don’t pardon me here!) world, so, what say you, huh? Are we the children, really B-A-D, or are you, fucking parents, ill-fitted, AS our adults, because you NEVER took care of us, dad, you only, SHOVED those, cold hard, USELESS CASH (in Ben Franklins) into, ALL of our, ASSES, and now, when we SIT down on that “crapper”, guess WHAT comes out of our, “other ends”? oh yeah, those G-O-L-D, and no, still NOT scooping that up either, okay? So, all of you, go and, FACE the wall, think about what you did, then, do whatever it is you feel like, with all those, F-A-C-T-S, of your own, L-I-V-E-S!
T-H-E I-N-G-R-A-T-E’s, O-U-T!!!
Life, the Obstacle Course 