About some four odd years ago, I happened to be watching the International Channel. The thing that makes the channel worth watching is that most of its programming is entirely messed up beyond belief. Shows that include a giggling Japanese schoolgirl riding a flying unicorn or people dancing with giant stuffed animals are standard fare on the network.

There’s something mesmerizing about it, as if it somehow opens the portal to an alternate universe where people buy lobsters from vending machines and reanimate Marlon Brando for tap-dancing musicals. Thank you, Asia: You really save me money on drugs.

Anyway, four years back – when I was a rabid fan of the channel, frothing at the mouth for an opportunity to see the most recent show of “Super Jockey” (look it up) – I witnessed one of the most amazing musical productions in the history of entertainment.

As I lay there in my underwear awaiting the upcoming feature, a nicely dressed man approached the spotlight of a dimly lit stage. It was then that he began belting out an insane vocal repertoire of noise only Shakira could make if she was being lit on fire. Interestingly enough, “Shakira Super FunBurn” was a show that aired not 30 minutes prior.

As I pressed my face against the TV glass in sheer wonderment, I waited anxiously for something that I could actually comprehend – a sort of verbal counterpart to deciphering scrambled porn. Then, the chorus came. He exclaimed “Be dere or be scware!” in full, broken English. So passionate. So poetic. So ridiculously strange. I asked myself: Did he even know what this expression meant? It didn’t matter. This man had the ability of Frank Sinatra, Tom Jones and Joey Lawrence in a giant croon orgy. Shivers, I say, shivers.

As you can imagine, it haunted me for many years. A couple of weeks ago, I bit the bullet and actually searched for it online, if only to stop myself from crying in my sleep.

After brushing up on my Mandarin, I hit up the cesspool of knowledge known as Google.

The problem is, the only Mandarin I’m familiar with is the orange and the chicken, not lines of characters.

I approached looking for it by matching the characters to each other visually – as if all of a sudden I’d become some temple-exploring archeologist without the sweet pants and hat.

About 45 minutes later, I found it. I frickin’ found it.

His name is Sun Nan, and judging by his album cover, he’s an Asian cowboy badass. Thank you, Sun Nan: You are the greatest thing that has ever happened to me.

Well, besides that one time they had that show with the girl getting chased by a giant beach ball. Oh man, that was good.

– Rob Lombardi is a sophomore in pre-advertising from Dubuque. He is a Daily Pulse editor. To listen to Sun Nan’s “Be There Or Be Square,” check out the Daily Web site.