video of Pinyin’s ‘father,’ Zhou Youguang, in English

Roddy of Chinese Forums, Signese, Dreams of White Tiles, and even more sites, found a new video (4 min. 40 sec.) of Zhou Youguang speaking, in English, to a reporter from the Guardian.

I was kind of surprised to see this featured on the Guardian’s front page under the ‘Father of Pinyin’ title – I’d wager 9/10ths upwards of the Guardian’s readership doesn’t know what pinyin is. Somewhat unforgivably they’ve managed to spell the guy’s name wrong and not bothered to add tones to the pinyin used in the video, and the interview is pretty weak – basically it’s ‘here’s a nice old Chinese guy talking for a few minutes’ but there’s really very little of depth. They’ve also opted to add subtitles to what sounds to me like perfectly comprehensible English.

But enough negativity, if you want to get a look at the guy who rescued you from bopomofo, have a look.

As happy as I am about the video, I’m going to add a bit more negativity. Failure to get the word parsing correct is also a major error: not “pin yin zhi fu” but “Pīnyīn zhī fù.” Actually, even that isn’t so good, because Pinyin is meant for modern baihua, not the style of Literary Sinitic and its many short forms. Thus, “Pīnyīn de fùqin” would be better.

The accompanying article is amazingly sloppy in parts.

Although the article manages to spell Zhou Youguang’s name correctly, it consistently refers to him not by his family name but by his given name, “Youguang.” It’s almost inconceivable that any reporter in China could (repeatedly) make such an elementary mistake; so perhaps this is the fault of an overzealous copy editor.

I’m not going to sort out and list what’s correct and what’s incorrect in the rest of the article, other than mention one point at the end.

Confusingly, Taiwan uses several different romanisation methods — including a variant of pinyin, tongyong pinyin — and zuiyin.

Zuiyin? Of course what is meant is zhuyin (zhùyīn/註音/注音), which is spelled correctly earlier in the article. Zuiyin (zuìyīn/罪因) is a noun meaning “cause of a crime.”

sources:

Taiwanese, eh?

I’m so far behind on posts that when Taffy of Tailingua sent this to me people in Taipei probably really were wearing short sleeves. They’re certainly not wearing so little now, with the cold, damp, miserable weather we’ve been having lately. Oh well, at least it’s better than what so many people have been having to endure in China. I hope Pinyin News readers there are keeping warm and didn’t get stuck in some transportation-related hell.
photo discussed in this post -- large blue text against a white background, Ma and Siew shown from the waist up with their arms crossed; a blue bird on the left
This poster on the back of a bus is for Taiwan’s presidential campaign.

It reads:

Táiwān ei lìliang
Shìjiè dǎ tōngguān

Mǎ Yīngjiǔ — Xiāo Wàncháng

.

台灣ㄟ力量
世界打通關

馬英九 蕭萬長

It’s hard to put this into English that makes sense. Perhaps “Taiwan shows its power to the world.” The idea is something like “Taiwan can overcome all obstacles.” It doesn’t strike me as a good slogan. But maybe I’m missing something.

The interesting part is that it has Taiwanese written with zhuyin (bopomofo): ㄟ (ei). But the ㄟ is basically just for show, since it doesn’t serve any linguistic purpose that the expected Chinese character — 的 (de), indicating the possessive — wouldn’t provide. The sign is still in Mandarin. (Dǎ tōngguān, for example, is not a Taiwanese expression, according to several native speakers I questioned about this.)

For those who don’t know, Mǎ Yīngjiǔ and Xiāo Wàncháng comprise the KMT’s ticket for next month’s presidential election.

Both Ma and Xiao use unusual spellings for the way they write their names in the Roman alphabet: Ma Ying-jeou and Vincent Siew, respectively.

The “Ying-jeou” of Ma’s name gives the appearance of Gwoyeu Romatzyh. But in that system his name would be “Maa Ing-jeou.”

“Siew” for Hanyu Pinyin’s Xiāo indicates that the source is likely a language other than Mandarin. But Taiwanese isn’t it, though Siew, unlike Ma, was born here. Because of that spelling, many foreigners in Taiwan pronounce his family name like the English word “shoe.” “Vincent” is of course an “English name” rather than a romanization of his birth name.

As I’m fond of pointing out, perhaps the only prominent Taiwan politician whose name is recognizably Hanyu Pinyin and only Hanyu Pinyin is President Chen Shui-bian, the man most responsible for seeing that Taiwan did not adopt Hanyu Pinyin during his tenure.

interviews with Y.R. Chao

I’ve just stumbled across a book-length series of interviews with Y.R. Chao (Zhao Yuanren / Zhào Yuánrèn / 趙元任 / 赵元任). Even better: The complete text is available for free on the Web!

China Scholars Series: Chinese linguist, phonologist, composer and author, Yuen Ren Chao. An Interview Conducted by Rosemany Levenson, with an introduction by Mary Haas.

Wow. This is absolutely fabulous. The Bancroft Library of the University of California, Berkeley, deserves praise for this. Other works of interest to readers of Pinyin News are also available; but more about those later, in separate posts.

In case any readers are not familiar with Chao (1892-1982), he was the finest linguist ever to come out of China. He was also a supporter of romanization; he was even the lead creator of an ingenious if somewhat complicated romanization system for Mandarin: Gwoyeu Romatzyh. But there’s no way a few short sentences could do justice to the depth and breadth of Chao’s learning. To get a better idea of the man, read the introduction to the work linked to above — and then read the rest!

Enjoy!

Further reading: Y.R. Chao’s translation into Gwoyeu Romatzyh of the Humpty Dumpty section of Through the Looking-Glass, with Hanyu Pinyin and English

A nose for foreign food?

Imagine some white guys in a fairly large U.S. city open a restaurant named “Mr. Taiwan Slant-Eyes Asian Cuisine.” And imagine that this restaurant specializes in distinctly Americanized dishes such as egg foo yong, fortune cookies, and California wraps. Now imagine the response. Isn’t this fun?

OK, now imagine a different situation: In Taiwan’s fifth-largest city some locals open a place specializing in Taiwanized Western food and dub their restaurant “Miss UK Cafe Pointy-Nose Foreign Food.”

As you’ve probably guessed, the second scenario is real. The “Miss UK Cafe ㄚ度仔 異國美食” (Miss UK Cafe a-tok-a yìguó měishí) recently opened not far from my apartment in Banqiao.

A-tok-a (ㄚ度仔) is Taiwanese for “pointy nose” (i.e., Westerner), though perhaps the common translation of “big nose” conveys the spirit a little better. As Tempo Gain explains in the Forumosa thread on this word, “the initial ‘a’ often preceds names, and the final ‘a’ often is attached to nouns like the Mandarin ‘zi’ haizi, chezi, etc.”

Although most foreigners I know in Taiwan find the use of a-tok-a offensive to some degree, reactions are usually tempered by the knowledge that the word is very seldom used intentionally as a pejorative. It’s just the word most Hoklo speakers would use for “Westerner,” and they mean nothing bad by this and perhaps even see it as “cute” in a favorable way. So since I’m certain the restaurateurs didn’t intend any insult in choosing this name, I’m not going to carp about this any more than I already have — which is not to say that I will ever buy anything from that restaurant.

It’s still an interesting name, though. (Actually, this is probably two names: the standard one (ㄚ度仔 異國美食), which is for most people, and the English one (Miss UK Cafe), which is probably there in an attempt to look modern/foreign/cool.)

For those keeping count, that’s three scripts and as many languages on just one sign.

  • Miss UK Cafe: English, in the Roman alphabet
  • ㄚ度仔: Taiwanese, in a mixed script of zhuyin (ㄚ) and Chinese characters
  • 異國美食: Mandarin, in Chinese characters

The mixing of scripts in “ㄚ度仔” is representative of the sad fact that most people in Taiwan are unsure how to write Taiwanese. Here are some of the ways this word gets written, along with the number of Google results and Baidu results for that exact phrase.

  • ㄚ度仔 Google 555 / Baidu doesn’t recognize the ㄚ
  • 阿凸仔 3,440 / Baidu 1,320
  • 阿多仔 6,730/ Baidu 13,400
  • 阿卓仔 11,300 / Baidu 2,810
  • 阿荳仔 12,500 / Baidu 24,700
  • 阿豆仔 12,500 / Baidu 24,700 (Google and Baidu apparently refuse to differentiate 荳 and 豆)

Also interesting is the use of yìguó (異國) instead of the more common wàiguó (外國), for “foreign.”

  • “異國” Google 1,510,000 / Baidu 14,700,000
  • “外國” Google 6,420,000 / Baidu 46,500,000

Yìguó měishí, however, is more common than wàiguó měishí.

  • “外國美食” Google 41,100 / Baidu 26,400
  • “異國美食” Google 114,000 / Baidu 152,000

This, I suspect, is because yìguó měishí “sounds fancier” because of how relatively common the word waiguo is.

photo of the storefront of the restaurant discussed in this post

further reading:

Mandarin teaching in Thailand: Taiwanese teachers choosing Hanyu Pinyin

The following quote sums up a recent article on Taiwanese who are teaching Mandarin at universities in Thailand:

jiùsuàn yǒu lǎoshī cǎiyòng ㄅㄆㄇ jiāoxué, zuìzhōng háishi huíguī dào Hànyǔ Pīnyīn, zhìyú Tōngyòng Pīnyīn, gēnběn méiyǒu rén shǐyòng.

(Even if some teachers employ bopo mofo in [the early stages of] their teaching, they still ultimately revert to Hanyu Pinyin. As for Tongyong Pinyin, essentially no one uses it.)

In the penultimate paragraph, a teacher takes what for traditional Chinese education is often seen as a radical position: content over form.

“Wǒmen kěyǐ yòng Hànyǔ Pīnyīn, yòng fántǐzì qù tuīxíng Táiwān wénhuà, zhè shì bu chōngtū de. Wǒ yòng jiǎntǐzì jiǎng Táiwān, dàjiā dōu rènshi Táiwān le, wǒmen yòng Hànyǔ Pīnyīn jièshào Táiwān, dàjiā dōu rènshi Táiwān le.”

(”We can use Hanyu Pinyin and traditional Chinese characters to promote Taiwan culture; these are not conflicting. I use simplified Chinese characters to talk about Taiwan; everyone learned about Taiwan. We use Hanyu Pinyin to introduce Taiwan; everyone learned about Taiwan.”)

In the final paragraph, the reporter editorializes along the same lines. (Editorializing in news articles is a common practice here.) It’s perhaps worthy of note that this comes from what was until recently a KMT-run television network — one that remains very “blue.”

Here’s the whole article:

Táiwān nèibù, jīhū měigé yīzhènzi, jiùyào chūxiàn guānyú “wénzì” de yìshi xíng tài zhēngzhí, bāokuò jiǎntǐzì fántǐzì, bāokuò Tōngyòng Pīnyīn yǔ Hànyǔ Pīnyīn. Hǎoxiàng yòng hé dàlù bù yīyàng de xìtǒng, jiùshì ài Táiwān, jiùshì tūxiǎn Táiwān zhǔtǐ yìshi.

Rán’ér, zhè duì ài Táiwān zhēn de yǒu bāngzhù ma? Duì qiánghuà Táiwān zhǔtǐ yìshi zhēn de yǒu bāngzhù ma?

Zhè shì zài Tàiguó dàxué lǐ, xuéshengmen shàng Zhōngwén kè de qíngkuàng. Suīrán méiyǒu tǒngyī de jiàocái, dàn dàduōshù de lǎoshī shǐyòng de háishi jiǎntǐ Zhōngwén bǎnběn, jiāo de yěshì Hànyǔ Pīnyīn.

Rajamangala Kējì Dàxué Zhōngwén kèchéng zhǔrèn Fú Cuì-lán lǎoshī jiù zhíyán, wèile zài Tàiguó tuīdòng Huáyǔ kèchéng, tā duì Huáyǔ lǎoshī de yāoqiú zhǐyǒu yī ge, jiùshì shǐyòng jiǎntǐ Zhōngwén: “Xiànzài wǒmen yī shuōdào Hànyǔ, tāmen jiù shuō bù xué, juéde Hànyǔ hěn nán, wǒ yào jiéshù zhèige gàiniàn, bāng tā mànmàn de xuéxí, ràng tā zhīdao Hànyǔ bù shì hěn nán de, kěyǐ xué de.”

Shìshíshàng duì dàduōshù de Tàiguó xuésheng láishuō, xuéxí Zhōngwén de dònglì shì yīnwèi Zhōngwén zhújiàn biànchéng qiángshì yǔyán, gōutōng duì tāmen ér yán zuì zhòngyào. Xiàofāng de kǎoliáng bù nán lǐjiě.

Zhìyú pīnyīn fāngshì jiù gèng bùyòng shuō le, jiùsuàn yǒu lǎoshī cǎiyòng ㄅㄆㄇ jiāoxué, zuìzhōng háishi huíguī dào Hànyǔ Pīnyīn, zhìyú Tōngyòng Pīnyīn, gēnběn méiyǒu rén shǐyòng.

Wālái’ālōnggōng huángjiā dàxué (ed.: Walailak University) de Zhōngwén lǎoshī Liú Yǎ-píng shuōchū tā de kǎoliáng: “Zhīqián méiyǒu xiān jiāo ㄅㄆㄇ, tāmen zhíjiē jiēchù Hànyǔ Pīnyīn, jiù huì bèi Yīngwén de niàn fǎ wùdǎo, suǒyǐ hòulái zhǐyào líng chéngdu, wǒ jiù huì xiān jiāo ㄅㄆㄇ, bǎ fāyīn wěnzhù, wěnzhù zhīhòu jiù zhuǎn guòlai jiāo Hànyǔ Pīnyīn, bìjìng Hàn pīn zhēn de shì xiànzài Ōu-Měi guójiā, bǐjiào pǔbiàn de gōngjù.”

Lìngyī wèi yóu Tái-Shī-Dà péixùn qiánwǎng Tàiguó jiāo Zhōngwén de lǎoshī Lín Hóng-zhèng yě zhǐchū, gāng dào Tàiguó shí, yǒu xǔduō Zhōngwén lǎoshī duìyú gāi shǐyòng Hànyǔ Pīnyīn háishi Tōngyòng Pīnyīn ér zhēngzhá, dàjiā zuìhòu dōu xuǎnzé le Hànyǔ Pīnyīn. Bìjìng guójì dà huánjìng shǐyòng de shì Hànyǔ Pīnyīn, tāmen bùnéng ràng Tàiguó xuésheng xuéxí yī tào bùnéng yòng de pīnyīn xìtǒng. Lín Hóng-zhèng yě rènwéi, shǐyòng nǎ yī tào xìtǒng, qíshí gēnběn bìngbù zhòngyào: “Yòng Hànyǔ Pīnyīn jiùshì hóngmàozi jiùshì róng gòng, zhè gēnběn méiyǒu guānxi. Wǒmen kěyǐ yòng Hànyǔ Pīnyīn, yòng fántǐzì qù tuīxíng Táiwān wénhuà, zhè shìbu chōngtū de. Wǒ yòng jiǎntǐzì jiǎng Táiwān, dàjiā dōu rènshi Táiwān le, wǒmen yòng Hànyǔ Pīnyīn jièshào Táiwān, dàjiā dōu rènshi Táiwān le.”

Cóng Tàiguó tuīdòng Huáyǔ kèchéng de jīngyàn lái kàn, guónèi jìnxíng Hànyǔ Pīnyīn Tōngyòng Pīnyīn zhīlèi de zhēngbiàn, qíshí xiāngdāng kěxiào. Yóuqí xiàng Táiwān zhèyàng yī ge xiǎo dǎoguó, zhèngfǔ lǎoshi xiǎngzhe zhèngmíng, xiǎngzhe yào yǔ Zhōngguó dàlù qūgé de xìtǒng, bùguò ràng zìjǐ de guójì kōngjiān gèngwéi xiá’ài. Zěnyàng cáinéng ràng Táiwān zǒu chūqu, nándào zhèxiē yǔ qítā guójiā hùdòng de jīngyàn, hái bù zúyǐ gěi diǎn jǐngxùn ma?

source: Cóng Tàiguó tuīdòng Huáyǔ kèchéng kàn guónèi Huáyǔ yìshi xíng tài zhī zhēng (從泰國推動華語課程看國內華語意識型態之爭), 中廣新聞網 (BCC), March 3, 2007

rice pizza = ‘mizza’

advertising photo of Pizza Hut's rice pizza; the copy reads '米zza 超ㄏㄤ美味新鮮fun'Something written with three different scripts (Chinese characters, zhuyin, and the roman alphabet) is very much the sort of thing that attracts my attention, as is a product that mixes scripts in its name. So this ad for a new product from Taiwan’s Pizza Hut definitely caught my eye, though it did not inspire me to actually taste the item being touted, which is a rice pizza. (Generally, I do not care for pizzas with Taiwanese characteristics, such as those with peas, corn, or squid. For that matter, I don’t even like pineapple on pizza.)

The name for this rice pizza, “米zza” (mǐzza), is a portmanteau — using two different languages and two different scripts, no less. 米 is the Chinese character for , which is used mainly in rice- and other grain-associated words. The second part of the word comes, of course, from “pizza.”

Let’s move on to the slogan:

米zza 超ㄏㄤ美味 新鮮fun

In romanization, this is

mǐzza: chāo hāng měiwèi — xīnxiān fun

Here we have Chinese characters (zza ㄏㄤ美味新鮮fun), zhuyin (米zza 超ㄏㄤ美味新鮮fun), and the Roman alphabet (米zza 超ㄏㄤ美味新鮮fun). Three scripts in just one line! (Yes, yes, I know that a line in written Japanese will often have just as many scripts, if not more; but this is Mandarin.)

The zhuyin, ㄏㄤ, represent hāng, a new slang word that, according to several people I have asked, has appeared within the last five years at most. It means “hot” in the sense of “extremely popular right now.”

Also, there’s a possibility that the English word “fun” is meant to echo the Mandarin fàn (飯 / 饭/ “rice”). Such puns across languages are not uncommon here, especially in local Internet slang.

So, the whole slogan might be translated as “Rice pizza: the super-’hot’ delicious food — fresh, new fun.” Sorry, that’s not a very good translation; it works better in Mandarin.

I predict such portmanteaux and mixing will be increasingly common here in Taiwan, where code switching is a way of life for many people. “Mǐzza” could be the wave of the future — just not the culinary future, I hope.

source: Taiwan Pizza Hut menu page, accessed January 30, 2007

ensure zhuyin is taught thoroughly: education official

Taiwan’s Ministry of Education is worried that with so many students entering first grade already knowing zhuyin fuhao, having learned it from their parents or at a buxiban (cram school) or preschool, some teachers are neglecting to ensure that all their students have a thorough grounding in this script. Since zhuyin is used to help teach students Chinese characters, a lack of proficiency in reading zhuyin could severely hamper a child’s ability to perform well in school.

I’ve seen reports from China of related worries there — but regarding Pinyin, not zhuyin, of course.

The original article in Chinese characters is no longer online, so I’m supplying the full text in Pinyin (which is all I have now).

Kāixué le, duì xiǎo yī xīnshēng láishuō, zhùyīn fúhào shì yǔwén lǐngyù de zhòngdiǎn, yuē xū shàngkè 10 zhōu, què yīn bùshǎo yòuzhìyuán yǐ tíqián jiāo guò, bùfen xiǎo yī lǎoshī yǐ duōshù xuésheng yǐ xuéhuì, lüèguò bù jiāo. Jiàoyùbù zuótiān zhǐchū, rúguǒ yǒu zhèizhǒng qíngxing, jiāzhǎng yīnggāi xiàng lǎoshī hé xuéxiào fǎnyìng.

Jiǔ nián yīguàn kèchéng guīdìng, xiǎo yī shàng xuéqī jiùyào shúxí, rèn dú, zhèngquè shūxiě zhùyīn fúhào yǐjí pīnyīn fāngfǎ, Jiàoyùbù guójiào sī guānyuán biǎoshì, wǎngnián dōu yǒu bùshǎo jiāzhǎng tóusù, bàoyuàn xiǎo yī de lǎoshī yīnwèi bān shàng duōshù xuésheng yǐjing xuéhuì zhùyīn fúhào, shěnglüè bù jiāo, yǐngxiǎng qítā xuésheng de shòujiào quán.

Jiàoyùbù zhōngyāng kèchéng yǔ jiāoxué yǔwén kē fǔdǎo zīxún lǎoshī Wú Huì-huā zhǐchū, shàngxué qīyuē yǒu 21 dào 22 zhōu, gēnjù kèchéng ānpái, xiǎo yī zhùyīn fúhào yào shàng 10 zhōu, zhīhòu lǎoshī huì kāishǐ jiāo guózì.

Wú Huì-huā shuō, gè bǎnběn kèběn yǒuguān zhùyīn fúhào jiàofǎ bùtóng, xiànzài yǐ hěn shǎo ànzhào zìmǔ shùnxù, yǒude zhào mǔyīn, yǒude zé ànzhào kèběn nèiróng, rú “xiǎo bái’é, ài chànggē” zhōng, huì xiān jiāo bǐjiào jiǎndān de “ㄅ” “ㄍ” děng, bùshǎo lǎoshī dàgài lìyòng 8, 9 zhōu shàng wán, jiēzhe tì xuésheng fùxí.

Wú Huì-huā shuō, bùshǎo jiāzhǎng pà lǎoshī bù jiāo zhùyīn fúhào, háizi shū zài qǐpǎoxiàn shàng, yīncǐ shàng yòuzhìyuán shí, huò xiǎo yī rùxué qián, jiùràng háizi xiān xué, huò qù bǔxí.

Gēnjù guānchá, xiǎo yīshēng yuē yǒu 6, 7 chéng yǐ huì zhùyīn fúhào, dàn chéngdu luòchā hěn dà, bùshǎo xuésheng kàn le huì niàn, dàn pīnxiě bù chūlai.

Wú Huì-huā biǎoshì, jíshǐ bān shàng yībàn yǐshàng xuésheng dōu yǐ xuéhuì zhùyīn fúhào, lǎoshī háishi yīnggāi ànzhào kèbiǎo shàngkè, yóuqí bùnéng fàngqì hái bù huì de xuésheng, gèng yào zhùyì chéngdu shàng de luòchā.

Zhùyīn fúhào jí pīnzì shì guówén zhòngyào jīchǔ, Wú Huì-huā shuō, jiāzhǎng měitiān kě huā yīdiǎn shíjiān, yào háizi lǎngdú shàngkè de nèiróng, tì háizi fùxí, duì háizi xuéxíhuì yǒu bāngzhù, dàn bùbì tài jiāolǜ, bùxū wéixué zhùyīn fúhào qù bǔxí.

source: Xiǎo yī bù jiāo zhùyīn — jiāzhǎng kě fǎnyìng (小一不教注音 家長可反映), September 1, 2006

Courage… Cabnap… Grunplitk: zhuyin and the movie Fearless

Many Westerners are so attracted by Chinese characters, which tend to be absurdly exoticized as symbols [sic] or ideograms [sic] of deep meaning, that they place them here and there as if they were some sort of pixie dust that bestows coolness upon any object (or body). Often when they do so, they write these characters incorrectly or are mistaken about their meaning, as Tian of Hanzi Smatter continues to note. But you’d think that at least those who make trailers for Chinese movies would be a little better informed.

Fearless (Mandarin title: Huò Yuánji? / ???), which is billed as Jet Li’s final martial-arts movie, has been out in Asia since January but won’t reach the States until later this year. (I have no plans to see this movie, which appears from the trailer to be a string of the usual clichés. And, anyway, I have yet to forgive Jet Li for appearing in Hero, which is probably the biggest cinematic valentine to totalitarianism since Triumph of the Will.) One of the trailers for Fearless features a number of Chinese characters. They’re even written correctly. But, oddly enough, interspersed with the Chinese characters are zhuyin fuhao, also known as bopo mofo, a semi-syllabic script used in Taiwan mainly to help teach children to read. Odder still, the zhuyin make absolutely no sense.

Here’s how Taiwanonymous, on whose site I found this story, puts it:

Intercut with scenes from the movie was a burnt-yellow background, suggesting aged parchment, with Chinese characters flying past. Along with the Chinese characters were some Mandarin phonetic symbols (zhuyin fuhao ????). It’s bad enough that they included phonetic symbols (which are mainly used in Children’s books) in the flying sea of what wanted to be an ancient Chinese text, but the symbols flew past in strings of gibberish! Imagine the following text dramatically moving across the screen, “Integrity… Peace… Courage… Cabnap… Grunplitk… Uwsugls.” Gives you chills just thinking about it.

Here’s a screenshot from the trailer:
gibberish zhuyin in the background

Just below COMING SOON is a giant ?. For something written in English this would be the equivalent of putting a large letter G on the screen.

Along the right side of the screen is the following, in zhuyin fuhao: ?????. This, in Hanyu Pinyin, would be “maixrici,” which is complete gibberish. The other vertical lines of text are also nonsense in zhuyin fuhao.

Again, there’s nothing wrong with how these are written. It’s just that they’re no more meaningful than a random string of letters.

Here’s one more shot:
gibberish zhuyin in the background
The zhuyin fuhao on the left read, from top to bottom, ?????, which would be “chjktp” in Hanyu Pinyin. As I think should be obvious even to those who don’t know Mandarin or any other Sinitic language, this is simply nonsense.

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