New York

Confucius never said: You so funny, me love you long time


Every person of the Asian persuasion’s been called a chink (even if not Chinese), been asked, “What does ching-chong mean?” (Huh?!), or been queried, “Where do you come from?” (Queens, yourself?) Since 2000, part-Indonesian, part-Aussie Kate Rigg has been venting our collective frustration by exaggerating stereotypes—martial artist, launderer, manicurist, masseuse, dragon lady, schoolgirl, delivery boy, math whiz, passive lotus petal—to the nth degree and turning them inside out with her variety show. Her sidekick, David Jung, another token Asian who Rigg met on the NYC theater circuit, plays MC Chink Daddy (“He’s Korean, but it not matter because all Asians look the same”), and just took first prize at the International Air Guitar Championship. Chink Daddy leads many of the pop-song parodies like “Wok This Way” or “Rice, Rice Baby,” but Rigg’s risible rendition of “I Will Survive” from the p.o.v. of an abandoned wartime single mom with a half-breed kid stands out as a highlight (“Oh no, Round Eyes/I will survive/as long as I know tae kwon do/I know I will survive”). The Asian Fly Girls (including former Voice intern MiRi Park) back up the fun. One might proceed with caution, but Asians are never the butt of her jokes. Rigg doesn’t exploit the race; she ridicules the fact that these ideas even exist. Her mission is to reoccupy racist language and destroy it.

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