Language implies a certain structure or code (Bauman and Briggs 2003; Makoni and Pennycook 2005). To acknowledge what Derrida calls the “untranslatable” is a post-structuralist escape from the “violence of representation” (Derrida 2000). Lie points out that even in music—the so-called “universal language”—there still exists a “resistance to a foreign-language lyric” (Lie 2012).

Foreigners are those from a different culture speaking different languages. When one culture, in the course of engaging with another, requires the foreigner to speak the host language, the host culture performs violence as a host. This form of hospitality is conditional; as Jacques Derrida suggests, it forces foreigners to become one of “us” and thus “violently erases the heterogeneity of others” (Derrida 2000).

The uttering of the quasi-nonsense “bang bang bang” is both a foreigners’ revolt against violent conditional hospitality and the host’s open acceptance of the foreigners’ utterance. Language is not a transparent medium; rather, it is constructed—if not manipulated—by various intentions within the nation-state apparatus. Acknowledging linguistic diversity while remaining alert to agendas of control, the seemingly meaningless yet meaningful “bang bang bang” in Hwang’s performance opens a window for connecting audiences free from cohesive violence.

I propose that the de-territorializing lingualscape in the Sino-Korean engagement of musical TV shows reconstructs a world order through nonofficial language—an order reimagined through the apparatus of the screen, one that is decentered, eliminates barriers to communication, and establishes visual relations through which audiences achieve a vernacular connection with one another. It is an order in which affective qualities mediate relationships between audiences. Both live and offscreen audiences are thus linked and communicate with each other, experiencing affective interactions that traverse on- and offscreen environments.