Robots Sit in on Gaokao, China’s National College Entrance Exam

Two special examinees participated in the math portion of China’s grueling national college entrance exam — gaokao — on Wednesday. The first, “Aidam” from Beijing, completed the paper exam in 9 minutes and 47 seconds, while the other participant, “AI-MATHS” from Chengdu, Sichuan Province, finished in 22 minutes.

They were both robots, of course — Aidam developed by Xuebajun Company, and AI-MATHS by Zhun Xing Yun Xue Technology Company. It’s reported that Aidam’s processing had to be slowed down up to six times its normal rate so that the result would be more realistic.

But where these robots excelled at speed, they gave up in actual test-taking ability. Out of 150, Aidam scored 134 — not bad, but not as high as top-tier humans — while AI-MATHS scored a paltry 105. I can tell you, I scored much higher than 105.

Fu Hongguang, who led Zhun Xing Yun Xue’s development team, had this to say before the test, as reported by Xinhua:

…the key to passing the exam includes understanding the language and knowledge inference. They have built a huge knowledge database for the machine to understand the questions.

“For instance, to solve the chicken-rabbits problem (calculating the numbers of chicken and rabbits kept in the same cage given the number of total legs and heads), it must know that chicken have two legs and rabbits have four,” Fu said.

The project began in 2015, and this year marked the first time an AI sat for the gaokao, the annual standardized college entrance exam that saw 9.4 million takers this year. Both robots scored higher than the human average.

According to Aidam’s chief scientist, Feng Chenrui, Aidam takes three steps to answer each math problem: first it has to decode what it reads into computer language, next it finds the correct reference point to approach the problem, and finally it translates its output into intelligible written form.

Artificial intelligence has been at the forefront of the news recently. Earlier this month, Google-designed AlphaGo rattled the human world by defeating Chinese Go master Ke Jie in a clean sweep, three games to zero. The AI then immediately retired from competition.

The average student takes two hours to complete the math portion of the gaokao. Some complained on social media that they couldn’t even finish at the AI’s speed even if they copied answers directly. A serious debate has risen among scholars who wonder whether the education industry will be turned upside down by the introduction of AI in the next decade.

Meanwhile, Xuebajun, the company that manufactured Aidam, proudly declared on social media: “Today we took a major step forward in history. From now on, humans and AI will begin to learn from each other, forge ahead toward a better future.”

Yin: Stranger in the North

Although “Stranger in the North” was actually released last year as part of Malaysian rapper Namewee’s album Crossover Asia, it only started to draw attention after the music video dropped on March 4. Since then, Namewee’s collaboration with Taiwanese-American pop star Wang Leehom has racked up over 32 million views on YouTube alone, thanks perhaps mostly to the sheer size of Wang Leehom’s star power – after all, he is known as one of the “New Four Heavenly Kings” of Mandopop.

But the song’s theme is well worth the attention on its own. As Wang Leehom belts in the chorus:

I drifted to the north
Don’t ask about my hometown
Not even the towering old city walls can hold back that sorrow

“Stranger in the North” is an epic rap anthem for the struggles of beipiao, or Beijing drifters. They are the people who make up the capital’s increasingly diverse “floating population” — the millions of migrants who leave their hometowns and even families behind in search of opportunity but lack the Beijing residence permit (hukou), barring them from obtaining basic services like education and health insurance. The term beipiao is a catchall for anyone working in Beijing without the Beijing hukou, from rural laborers to white-collar workers and even the scrappy musician that Namewee portrays in the music video.

Something can be said about the fact that it’s Wang Leehom and Namewee – both technically not Chinese (Wang is American by nationality), let alone beipiao – who take on the first-person here. But the song is a bitter elegy for beipiao all the same. “So many people couldn’t win against harsh reality / and then vanished without a trace / So many people have fallen into a stupor / and leave only a lifeless shell,” Namewee practically shouts. “Rest in Peace.”

Those behind the Great Firewall can watch the music video to Stranger in the North here.

H/T Nitai Deitel

Yin (音, “music”) is a weekly Radii feature that looks at Chinese songs spanning classical to folk to modern experimental, and everything in between. Drop us a line if you have a suggestion: [email protected].

Radii Photo Contest: The Place We Live

The photos on this post are via Siok Siok Tan’s photo book, Citybook

What defines the place we live? Is it possible to ever make it our own?

Is the city more interesting through the eyes of an insider, or from the view of one merely passing through?

Trying to assess the place we live — why we live here, wherever “here” may be, despite its problems — we’re constantly reminded of the importance of perspective. Which is why we’re calling this photo contest: we want to see how you see your city, whether that be Beijing/Shanghai, or anywhere else in China.

Submit up to three photos — individually or as a series — before June 30 July 2 to participate. China-based pictures only, please.

You can post your photos on Instagram or Twitter with the hashtag #RadiiPhoto, or email [email protected].

All winners (see below) will see their pictures published on this website.

Prizes

The Grand Prize winner will get a chance to meet award-winning photographer Chen Man — the “Annie Leibovitz of China,” who has shot celebrities from Rihanna to Victoria Beckham to Benedict Cumberbatch, and just about every A-list Chinese star — in her studio in either Beijing or Shanghai. Also, 800 RMB.

First Prize is an Olloclip Core Lens and Pivot Grip, plus a one-on-one mobile photography workshop with Singaporean photographer and documentary filmmaker Siok Siok Tan.

Five Second Prize winners will receive an autographed copy of Tan’s most recent photo book, Citybook, from which the pictures on this post are taken.

The Chizza Lands in China: KFC’s ‘Chicken X Pizza’ Hybrid is Oddly Satisfying

On June 5, the Chizza – short for “Chicken X Pizza,” a Kentucky Fried Chicken concoction – finally showed up in China. Since its 2015 debut in the Philippines, this mythical, monstrous fried chicken and pizza hybrid had been terrorizing Asian fast food markets such as India, Japan and Singapore. Now, with baby-faced pop star Lu Han as the lead endorser, the Chizza with Chinese characteristics was at last rampaging the mainland. In the name of journalism, I went to check it out.

For just 23 kuai ($3.40), a little more than a burger, I got a Chizza in a smart little pizza box. There’s something about miniature pizza boxes that’s weirdly comforting. They’re so small and square and cute. And this one so much so that I was unfazed by the writing on the top of the box warning of the not-so-cute contents within: “Cheese, chicken, no-dough ‘pizza.’” (Note: be wary of anything in scare quotes. They are there for a reason.) You could say I was almost a little excited.

Then I opened the box.

According to a press release, Chizza is “breaking the dimensional walls of fried chicken and pizza” and “recombining the genes of food.” While very much unlike your typical fried chicken or pizza, I am sad to report that the Chizza looked remarkably like a piece of day-old chicken violently splattered with fresh vomit, the kind where your lunch hasn’t totally been digested and is only half-souped-up with stomach acids and liquid breakfast. Maybe KFC should’ve changed its tagline from “Chizza, here to overthrow” to “Chizza, here to make you throw up” (though it wouldn’t work in the original Chinese).

I gingerly picked up a piece. The cheese did not stretch like it did in the commercials. Half of the toppings proceeded to slide off and plop back into the box. A bit of the chicken skin was also sort of coming off, as it had been rendered semi-slushy by some food-gene-splicing-scientist’s valiant attempt at marinara sauce.

I reminded myself that I was doing this for the greater good of journalism and took a bite. And you know what, it was surprisingly… okay.

I did have to do a bit of manual rearrangement of toppings because the pineapple wasn’t evenly distributed and the peppers kept falling off. But the sweetness of the pineapple chunks balanced out the savor of the chicken, and the sauce… you can’t really screw up marinara. The bits of Christmas-y red and green peppers and corn were mostly harmless, as far as vegetables go. I barely noticed the cheese (which is better than noticing at the risk of spontaneous regurgitation). I have to give it to KFC: the Colonel shed his white suit for Dr. Frankenstein’s lab coat and really transformed chicken. Combined with the spicy marinara, fried chicken tasted like chewy, cardboard pizza crust, which I did not realize was possible.

All in all, it was better than it looked. Would I order it again? Probably not. I’m just relieved I didn’t get the unholy terror that ravaged KFC Singapore.

Behold, the Chizza, in a series of close-up photographs:






Write a Haiku, Win some Scotch at Saturday’s Radii Launch Party

You may have already heard, but we’re holding a launch party this Saturday at Great Leap No. 6 (original courtyard location), and everyone is invited.

In addition to giving away free beers — to those who have followed our Facebook page before the event — we’ll also give away pours of scotch whisky for those who write the most crowd-pleasing haikus.

Just tweet them @RadiiChina before noon Saturday.

(The haiku in the flyer above is by Jeremiah Jenne, who you’ll see around these parts not too long after our official launch.)

Here’s the original party poster for those who haven’t seen it:

Questions/comments? We’re at [email protected].