The Parable of the Night Heron

Sometime around 1916, my great-great grandfather converted to Islam. 

Five generations later, nobody in the family knew about it. It wasn't some diaphanous secret, whispered in the old language that none of the kids spoke, banished over the years to successive coffins. It was considered so trivial a thing that it was unworthy of secrecy; it wasn't discussed at all. 

Stories don't die if somebody, in some language, tells them. In a twisted form perhaps, I would have heard about it. Or something like it. Instead I had to learn it from an old xerox of typed yellow pages, scanned and uploaded to the Zoryan Institute website. So I suppose stories don't ever necessarily die. The possibility of resurrection is eternal. 

Movses, a canny businessman from a family made rich by silkworms, sat in some filthy Turkish government outpost in Hamah and was handed a choice: your  family becomes Muslim, or they're deported further south to Jerusalem. He and his wife were in their mid-fifties and might not have survived the trip. His youngest childen were growing weaker. His young cousins, named after the fox, had already lost their mother, grandparents and sister to typhus in the death camps, their father presumed dead after being dragged off to some labor brigade (he was). 

He truly believed in the Christian faith, and he had scruples of sort. He might have refused the officials and taken his family's chances on the death march. But he was also rich, and that gave him a third choice: he converted, and then bribed the official to lose the paper. 

I don't really care about religion, so a lie like that means nothing to me -- one god is as fake as another as far as I'm concerned -- but it would have meant the world to him. 

At least one other wealthy family took Muslim names because they thought it would help them in business. The town pastor refused the "offer", was sent to Jerusalem, and survived. As far as I know, Movses took no names and may not have told any family members. If he did, they never spoke of it. For his trouble, he'd lose his youngest son anyway. 

I only learned of it because those two fox cousins survived and one of them told the story to the Zoryan Institute. 

In that moment, Movses was told to either lie for the possibility of saving his wife and children, or insist on truth and likely condemn them. Being a business type, I don't think he ever considered asking the Turkish official to make a more ethical choice. Why, after all, would the official do so?

So what? Well, a few days ago, a friend posted about an old story, a parable about a bird and a wise man. I think it might have been Biblical; it's certainly religion-scented. He has faith, I don't, but that's cool. 

He wrote about how he told this story to his children: a man holds a small bird in his hands and approaches a wise man. To trick the sage, he intends to ask if the bird is alive or dead. The bird is moving and singing; it is clearly alive. If they wise man says so, the trickster will kill the bird. If he says it's dead, however, he'll set it free.

In the story, the sage tells the man "the bird is in your hands." The man asks again if said bird is alive or dead. "The answer is in your hands," the sage replies.

We're supposed to learn from this that our fate is in our own hands, so we should make good choices. His daughter, however, answered that she'd say the bird was dead. Why? Because, she explained, the objective isn't to be right, it's to save the bird. The power -- the ability to make a choice -- remains with the wise man until he decides to abrogate it and ask the trickster to make good choices. 

This is the sort of online story that some would insist never happened, along the lines of three-year-olds who spout implausible wisdom. Like the mom who claimed her kid said "everyone dies, but not words." I know them, though, and I think it did happen. Honestly, I don't care if it didn't. It's not the point. 

So, okay, the objective isn't to be right, it's to save the bird. And that's within the wise man's power until he relinquishes it, unless the trickster grows impatient and kills the bird out of boredom, misplaced rage, or a need to assert dominance. The man with the bird is clearly a bad person. Can we even trust him to release the bird if we lie? 

Movses chose to lie, and his youngest son died of typhus in a death camp in Hamah.

For the longest time, I struggled to reconcile another, modern-day lie with the world I know: that so many people who so clearly support a free and sovereign Taiwan won't take the next logical step and call it a country. In Taiwan, they won't amend the constitution, they won't change the "Republic of China" name. It's a lie, and it can read as undermining the cause.

Though it's debatable whether China has Taiwan in its hands, the sheer scale of military buildup over the past few years is an argument that they do, or that it's their goal. 

Insist that Taiwan is sovereign and has never been part of the 'China' that everyone understands to be China, change the name, change the constitution, be right or die trying -- and maybe you get a war. 

Tell the Chinese government that the bird's fate is in their hands, and you've condemned yourself anyway. You can't trust someone to make good choices as they try to trick the world into either lying, or destroying Taiwan. They're already not making good choices, and they have no motivation to be better people.  You may as well condemn Taiwan to die.

Put off the answer, implying that maybe, just maybe, the lie is acceptable -- the Republic of China isn't the dead name of an ideology and national concept that's little more than a coma patient on life support -- and you might not save the bird, but you retain some of the power and some chance that perhaps it will fly off to some uncapturable state. 

Let's play Bad Pastor -- no, not like that, gross dude -- I mean like clunky metaphors and a bored congregation. Let's make the metaphor plain: 

The US is the self-righteous sage who thinks telling a trickster to make good choices might actually cause them to rethink their path and consider peace. It doesn't even matter who's in power, from Obama to President Rapist to Biden to President Rapist again for some goddamn reason. Not taking a position, committing only to a peaceful resolution of tensions between villain and bird, is telling the bird to watch its neck and not a lot more.

China, the bad guy, desperately wants someone to speak the truth. Saying aloud that the Republic of China is a lifeless shell with no future, but Taiwan is a sovereign and vibrant nation that is culturally and politically distinct from China gives them an excuse to try and kill it. 

The KMT is trying to outright lie -- to say Taiwan is dead so that the ROC may live on as "part of China." Now that they're mostly run by bought-and-paid-for unificationists and overt CCP agents and traitors, they mean that literally as part of the People's Republic. 

But tricksters can't be trusted; this will still be the death of Taiwan. 

The rest of us are just trying to figure out exactly how much we can grease the system. Imply a lie without stating it outright. Keep a dead name, a government system and constitution that's got some ridiculous bits, and our lives for as long as we can. Placate the trickster until we can find a way out.

The objective, after all, is not to be right. It's to save the bird. 

Perhaps it's not exactly the same as converting to a religion you don't believe in but rather than live a lie, bribe someone to lose a paper. It's not incomparable, though. 

It might not work. China might grow irritable or scared enough at any moment and use Taiwan's willingness to imply a lie without confirming it as an excuse to crush its neck. 

But between certain death, another kind of certain death, and asking bad people to be better than they are, it's just about the only path left. 

Taiwan has something going for it, though: China doesn't seem to know what kind of bird it's threatening. It sees Taiwan as a little sparrow, easily captured and held, its bones easily snapped. 

I think Taiwan is a Malayan night heron: hefty in history and culture and uniqueness, strong of bone, with a long, sharp beak and unwavering eyes. (Seriously, those birds will stare you down. They judge you. I swear night herons can see your soul.) They look like they can't fly, but they can. 

I've never heard of a night heron messing up an attacker. They mostly seem to like to hang around and eat tasty things. But it doesn't look easy to kill one with your bare hands. As though if provoked, it would go straight for the face. 

Books by frauds make for the wildest reviews

From Wikimedia Commons

I like to read old books about Taiwan, and it doesn't get much older than this. In 1704, a man named George Psalmanazar, claiming to be a native Formosan and Christian convert, published A Historical and Geographical Description of Formosa. It took England by storm, creating what was apparently a "Formosa craze", with French and German editions to follow. 

The first half or so of the book appears to be a long, unscientific and unphilosophical proof about the absolute superiority of the Christian religion. This part is skippable; it's not at all related to Taiwan and it's hardly rigorous. Psalmanazar (not his birth name) keeps self-complimenting the irrefutability of his logic. I'd say it was refutable, but that would be deigning to categorize it as logic at all. 

Following that, a series of short chapters outline what Formosans wear and eat, how their islands and cities are laid out, some very improbable designs for Formosan boats, various customs, money, marriage rites, their relation to Japan, their social classes and their government. He includes some notes about the grammar of "the Formosan language" -- apparently tones signify grammar differences? -- with an alphabet and translations of various Christian verses into "Formosan", which resembles pig latin. 

Obviously, Psalmanazar was a fraud. He was probably born in France, and had never been to Formosa or East Asia at all. It was all completely made up, based on basically nothing -- although he'd clearly incorporated some basic knowledge of China and Japan, even that included a fair amount of fabrication --there was never a Japanese emperor named "Tampousama", for example; the Emperor of Japan during the beginning of their isolationist period was Go-Mizunoo, aka Emperor Kotohito, and he did not die as a Christian exile in Goa. 

But there's something really fascinating about the fraud. Not the expected banalities of why he did it, although he seemed to me unlike a lot of impostors in that he wasn't so much pretending to be something he wished he really had been as simply seeking a false identity almost for the hell of it. His original goal had been to travel to Rome; the fame and society-crashing came later. Still, who cares? 

What interested me was how his fake culture and language, including fake social classes and a fake religion said a lot more about what people really do when they fabricate knowledge about people different from them. In fiction, so many characters are based on people the author knows, tweaked to be more interesting or appropriate to the story. So it was with Psalmanazar, whose fever-dream of East Asia seemed mostly to be based on a twisted representation of European culture, mixed with a heavy dollop of orientalism and finished off with descriptions of Generalized Foreign Lands and a sprinkle of random nonsense. 

Take his descriptions of the social structure and religion: he describes an absolute monarch named Mariandanoo, followed by a series of nobles and their wives, with illustrations of their clothing -- they all pretty much sounded like European-style nobility and their clothing were just weirder versions of things Europeans have been known to wear. The religion seemed to include one God, with a bunch of other gods described more as saints, and a holy book called the Jarhabadiond, is just an odd spin-off of Abrahamic religion with an added pagan element of worshipping celestial bodies. The language sounds vaguely Indo-European: a general is a carillan, a poorhouse is a caa tuen pagot ack chabis-collinos, and fictional cities includes Chabat and Pineto. Marriage is Groutacho. Some words appear to be just weird-ized Asian-sounding things, such as the fictional islands of Peorko and Loctau. The alphabet looks like it sprang from the mind of someone who wanted to create a new writing system but couldn't quite get the Roman alphabet out of their head.  

Other words are just random nonsense: my favorite is the word for one hundred, ptommftomm (though taufb for the number one is fun too). You can read the extremely weird translation of the Lord's Prayer into fake Formosan on Wikipedia.

                           


In his later autobiography, Psalmanazar claims he was a linguistic prodigy in his youth and had considerable intellectual gifts otherwise. Perhaps -- his fake Formosan language does seem to have enough internal consistency to have come from a fairly intelligent mind. But it isn't particularly imaginative otherwise, and he was a known liar in other ways. 

Some elements, including close attention to astronomy and the name of the capital (Xternetsa) appear to be gleaned from what might have been public perception of Indigenous American cultures. A few ideas, coincidentally or not, are accurate to some of East Asia in general at that time, but not Formosa per se. One god-saint, Amida, is basically Japanese for Amitabha. 

Other elements, such as the descriptions of exotic animals and their uses, including the eating of snakes and use of skins as clothing, seems to be just generic foreign and exotic stuff. He claimed that Formosa had camels, lions, tigers, rhinocerots [sic], elephants and sea-horses, all tame and of service to people. Brendan and I agreed that by 'sea-horses' he probably meant hippopotamuses, but the idea of a tame seahorse that serves humans is more amusing. 

Showing that he hadn't even tried to do a little background reading to make his fakery more believable, he claimed that Formosans had "no knowledge of dragons". I'm not sure to what extent dragons exist in various Taiwanese Indigenous mythologies, but for the Chinese immigrants who were settling Taiwan by then, well...it's a bit weird to say they'd never heard of dragons.

So what does a spirited rando with some (but not a lot) of imagination do when he sets out to create a fake culture to pretend to be from? Apparently, it's to exoticize their own culture, throw in some random bits about far-away peoples circulating in the general social consciousness of the time, put the whole thing through a weird-izer and sprinkle some gibberish on top. 

At least, of course, when someone can't be bothered to think beyond what they already know to come up with something truly unique. 

Some of Psalmanazar's fabrications are weirdly true, if only by coincidence. For instance, he describes the capital Xternetsa as being near a large mountain "which abounds with many wholesome springs", which is technically true of Taipei. He describes an extremely sexist social hierarchy in which men can have multiple wives but women are restricted to the home without her husband, except for the first wife. This was actually the way many Chinese settler families operated in Taiwan at that time -- although I'm not sure if even the first wife could go out in those cases -- but that's because patriarchy is a common and unsurprising facet of many cultures. He wasn't describing something unique or exotic so much as pretty basic ingrained sexism. 

Once again, Psalmanazar shows us that most people, when trying to be imaginative, just end up repeating some distorted or lightly fictionalized version of what they already know. It's interesting, I suppose, at least for what that tells us about how we view the world through our own cultural lenses and often don't even realize it. 

The lack of curiosity from someone claiming brilliance was also, well, something. Here's a conversation I had with Brendan about it: 

Me: The thing is, he could have been so much more believable if he'd just read up a bit more on the part of the world he was claiming to be from.

Brendan: Do you think he really cared?

Me: Not rea---

Brendan: Well there ya go.

I suppose what surprises me is that this research, even if he didn't care, would have helped him perpetuate the farce awhile longer. Toward the end he starts discussing the massacre and general kicking-out of Jesuits from Japan around 1614, which did happen. It's so otherwise inaccurate, however, that it not only seems lazy to have not just included something based on verifiable accounts, but that it reads like a ticking time bomb with Psalmanazar's name on it: enough people knew about the Dutch in Formosa and the flight of Christians from Japan that eventually, someone was going to point out that he was talking nonsense.

The thing is, in the early 18th century, Taiwan would still have been predominantly Indigenous, no? While it's a stretch to say that the Austronesian cultures of Taiwan had gender equality, they were certainly more progressive in this way than many traditional societies. You may recall that Chinese writing about Taiwan called it an "Island of Women" for this reason. So of all the places he could have chosen to fabricate a backstory, he picked the one where in many parts, the sexist tropes didn't quite fit. 

I'm not even getting into the stuff that falls under Generalized Exotic Foreign Barbarity Tropes. Think child sacrifice (apparently thousands of younger sons were sacrificed in Psalmanazar's Formosa every year, and it's implied that the priests eat them), wearing metal codpieces, animal skins, being warlike, you know, all that stuff. The most insulting passage in my opinion wasn't about cannibalism or codpieces or the straight-up gibberish language, but the passage on music. It's hard to select quotes because, like many men of his time, he used insufficient periods. I'll try, though:

It must be acknowledg'd that the Art of Musick was not known for many Years in any of the Eastern Countries, neither had they any certain method of singing and playing upon instruments of Musick, though they had then such as resembled the Drum and the Tabor, the Trumpet and the Flagellet, the Lute and Harp: But since the time that the Europeans came thither, they have learn'd the way of making and using these Instruments, which are now made almost after the same fashion as they are here in England.

Which...what?

For when they heard the Jesuits play upon the Organs in their Churches, and sing Musically after the manner of the ROmish Church, they were mightily taken with it, and inflam'd with a desire of learning the At of Musick, which now by their industry and ingenuity they have attained, tho' not in perfection, yet to such a degree as wonderfully pleases themselves; and therefore they commonly use both vocal and instrumental Musick at theur Marriages, Funerals, Sports and Recreations, and at their offering Sacrifices, chiefly when they Sacrifice Infants. 

Okay then.

Thus it is in Japan, but in the Island Formosa, the Natives still observe their ancient method of singing and playing upon Musical Instruments, if their way of singing may be call'd a method; for except some few particular Prayers, which are sing by the Priests only, the People sing all other things, every one after a different manner, according to his fancy; which they do not look upon as ridiculous, because they know no better...

Screw you, dude. 

Oh yeah, I almost forgot -- the entire book claims and then assumes thereafter that Formosa was annexed by Japan and was for all intents and purposes Japanese, and the nobles there went to Japan to pay respects to the emperor. That's quite funny, seeing as Japan did try to annex Taiwan a century or two before, but wasn't successful because they couldn't find a king or emperor to demand tribute from. Ha ha. 

Don't they know they could have just contacted this guy? Apparently he's the King of Formosa!

On the one hand, one of the goals of this book appears to be encouraging missionaries to go to Formosa to "civilize the pagans" (scare quotes are mine). On the other, he treats Taiwan as wholly separate from China. That's honestly a lot more than I can say for some of the analysts today who claim to understand Taiwan. but then write their own fictitious garbage through a completely Chinese lens, and in some cases read as insulting and dismissive of it in a modern sense as Psalmanazar was then. At least this guy's nonsense treated it like a unique culture. 

That might be my most controversial take on this short, weird book. The West knows more about Taiwan now than it did in 1704, but that doesn't mean it understands a lot. A combination of people having their own lives and not a lot of time to learn about places they'll never visit along with relentless propaganda from China have harmed attempts at increasing understanding about Taiwan. Many will therefore read some utter nonsense in, say, Foreign Policy, by people passing themselves off as Taiwan experts, and take it as fact because they don't know better or don't care.

It's a perpetual problem for places that aren't as well-known (or face a well-funded war machine trying to take them down) -- there will always be someone looking to benefit from others' ignorance about these places, or create narratives about them that suit their own ends, rather than the place they're talking about. 

Some of these modern fraudsters are Taiwanese, some aren't. Arguably the KMT has it in their DNA: they, along with the CCP, have been creating twisted or wholly fabricated narratives about Taiwan for their own ends for a few generations now, and don't seem to be stopping anytime soon. They've convinced far too many people that Taiwan is Chinese (it's not -- I'd even argue that it's not just politically distinct from China, but culturally as well) or that the people identify as Chinese (they don't), or that Taiwanese schools are founded on Confucian thought, for better or worse (they're not). 

We can laugh at poor old George Psalmanazar, smart and eccentric but not terribly creative and clearly deeply, deeply racist. But really, British society believed him in 1704 for reasons not entirely different for why people believe nonsense about Taiwan now.  

Starting a bleak year with a little joy in Taiwan

I am grateful that I had the time to attend an exhibition of Sanyu (常玉) works in December

It doesn't matter how you spin it or even if you try to make it cute -- a snake is a snake. And when your government has been overtaken by snakes, there's no way to frame that positively without coming across as disingenuous, brainwashed, bootlicking or just garden-variety stupid. 

I'm talking about the US here, but something similar could be said of the KMT-created constitutional crisis in Taiwan. If you don't see the similarities in tactics between them and President Rapist's crew, you're not paying attention. DPP legislators seem to be putting up more of a fight than US Democrats, but I do with President Lai would speak out more. 

Because of how the world is, Lao Ren Cha is probably going to get pretty dark. Uplifting words require hope, and we're currently veering down a slope on which my hope finds no purchase. We're not only sliding into fascism, we're doing it electorally. People actually chose this. I have nothing to offer them but contempt. 

It may seem as though I've hopped straight to the rending of the garments without much in between, but I've actually been attempting to keep a gratitude journal. The world is in a bad way, but I can't point to many problems in my personal life -- call it privilege, luck, perhaps a few good choices, but if the US weren't in some freaky simulation of 1930s Germany and China acting kind of like the old Japanese Empire, I might even be something approaching happy? Who knows. 

What I can do, though, is practice a little self-fortification and talk about some of the little things I'm grateful for. They're random and pretty inconsequential, but it calms the mind to do this. 

That, and I can't follow the news as closely as I'd like without my stomach curdling, and I've gotten at least two migraines from it, so I can't be the Taiwan politics blogger I want to be right now.

Although it has its flaws, and I have my criticisms, I'm grateful that I moved to Taiwan back in 2006. I half-joked at the time that I was doing it to get away from "King George II", which seems adorable now. In 2025, as I see more and more Americans talking about 'getting out' and trying to start lives abroad, I started one almost two decades ago. I have permanent residency, a comfortable home built up over a decade, a freelance career that's solid even when it feels a little unstimulating, and strong social ties in Taipei. 

I do worry that China will start a war here -- President Rapist isn't smart enough to understand Taiwan's strategic importance, and he isn't empathetic enough to understand the human rights implications of this issue. China must know it has a lot less standing in its way now. 

And yet, being here has given me a greater understanding of this part of the world. If I'd stayed in the US, it would have been easy to read about conflicts like the threats China is inflicting on Taiwan, and despite feeling empathy, see it all as 'foreign' or 'far away' -- even though such a war would affect not just Taiwanese people but the world. Every issue that's far off to us is local to someone else. Not that I didn't already know that, but knowing something and feeling it in one's bones because the death count might include you or people you care about -- I'm not grateful for the threat or the fear, what kind of monster would be? But it sure does induce clarity. 

There's a small part of me that regrets that I can't do more to fight for the future of the US. Perhaps the US doesn't deserve a future -- again, the electorate chose this -- but lots of people in it do. It has brought further clarity, though, that the US might be the country of my citizenship, and it's had a major impact on my cultural norms, but it's not really 'home' anymore and probably never will be again. 

Taiwan is my home, and it's worth fighting for. I've heard people here talking about running, trying to get away from a potential war. I'm a lot less sure. I don't know what help I could be, nor how I'd be able to stay just in terms of supporting myself, but if I'm not willing to stand up for my values and beliefs in my home, then I'm not willing to stand up for them anywhere. I don't know how I could live with myself if I ran. 

That sucks, but I suppose there's a sliver of gratitude in being able to put it so plainly. Knowing it is...something?

Here's how much the US is not my home: I'm reasonably committed to not visiting again while President Rapist and his sex pest goon squad are in power, and I don't know how long that will be. Four years? Two or less, if we can get all 1789 up in the White House? Undetermined? I don't feel any sadness about not going to that country, just at what it will mean for visiting loved ones there. How feasible is my stance with a wedding in September, a father who doesn't take long trips abroad, and wanting to spend Christmas with my in-laws next year? 

                       

My face while judging supporters of President Rapist

A friend asked me what precisely I was afraid of in terms of not visiting. I'm not sure. As a cisgender, heterosexual white woman who's probably past childbearing age, I'm not very high on their list of people to actively persecute. They're content with passive persecution of women like me who are still there by eroding all of their hard-earned human rights. Yet my guts rebel at the thought of setting foot on American soil: the leadership of a country do influence the culture, and right now the Rapey D and the Roofie Crew are ushering in a culture of misogyny that gives me the willies. Which random Manosphere Bro is gonna decide it's suddenly acceptable to threaten or assault me, because his Dear Leader did it without consequences? 

I also just don't want to be around people who think it's acceptable to attack, say, immigrants or trans women. I have friends in both groups and would rather live near them than their detractors.

Besides, I don't really know what to do to support my trans and nonbinary friends especially. It feels like performative allyship, but they're mostly American, and if they can't go back for safety reasons, perhaps I shouldn't either. 

In fact, I'm curious: if you're an American living abroad, are you intending to visit the US during this "administration"? No judgement either way, we all come to our own decisions for our own reasons. I just want to know. 

What were we talking about again? Oh yes, gratitude. I am indeed grateful to have a supporting husband and loving family (biological and in-laws) who are supportive and understand how much this has bothered me, because it bothers them, too. I'm at the point of cutting off anyone who supports the literal fascism we're facing now, and I am grateful that nobody in my closest circles is, well, a fascist. 

Here are some little things I'm grateful for:

I recently started up a writing project I'd abandoned a couple of years ago. It's going better this time and takes me out of time and place a little. That matters. It also means I'll likely be blogging less. 

I have a lovely side hustle going writing for various Taiwan travel magazines. You can see some of them republished by CommonWealth's online platform (not all of the results here are mine). Writing is a way to look at some other thing critically for awhile, rather than freaking out at the news all the time. 

In fact, all I think I can read these days is Sweets Weekly. 


                  

Sweets Weekly, your trusted source for news from Taiwan to Hamburg, Germany, which was originally a kind of fried steak. 

Here's one of their better pieces: 

Typified plus thick warm and cheerful grandmother, Tainan alleys hidden in a delicious good material. this is the most memorable I've eaten grilled sandwiches, plus skillful technologies raging fire fried egg. still retain moisture egg, like iron palm flip grilled toast Ruannen delicious, simple but most charming. 

Flip to the other side to read an insightful editorial about how sandwiches is placed in the middle of the bread. 

I am grateful for Sweets Weekly. 

In April, I'll leave Taiwan for a little over a month. Starting in London where I'll work remotely from my sister's place for a few weeks, I'll then head to Rome where I'll meet Brendan and my brother and sister-in-law for the weekend. Then we'll meet my parents-in-law for a Mediterranean and Adriatic cruise. I don't know if I am a cruise person; my typical travel is public transit, mid-range hotels, lots of faffing about drinking things in cafes and exploring old bookstores, maybe seeing a castle or church and joking about how this or that bishop put rubies on his hat instead of helping the poor. 

But family bonding matters, and I don't hate large boats (only small ones), and I get to go to Malta and Montenegro. At the end, we'll spend several days in Slovenia and I'll work remotely a bit from Ljubljana.

That's a privilege, and I'm grateful...well, not for the privilege exactly, but for the privilege of being able to go plus the understanding that it is indeed privilege.

Someday I might switch to a full-time job that will make it harder to do things like this, so I'm grateful that I get to do it now. Besides, who knows whether we'll be in the throes of World War III before I get my next chance? 

For this trip, I designed an 'ideal' travel day bag. Made with sturdy Japanese fabric and a water-resistant middle layer, it boasts a thick cloth crossbody, a zipper top and magnet-sealing flap for two layers of protection. It slides onto a rolling bag handle and has outer compartments for airport necessities and a water bottle. Inside, there are inner zip pockets and a keyring that can attach to anything you may want to secure. It has a dedicated laptop compartment and Kindle pocket. I daresay it is perfect, and it came entirely from my own head. 

                    

                    
I'm grateful for that spurt of creativity in a time when I feel creatively dead, and grateful to have a tailor in Taiwan who made it for me at a reasonable price. 

My cat -- the one who had the heart attack -- is still with us. He costs about NT$15,000/month between vet visits and medication, but his prognosis was 6-9 months. It's been 9 months now, so every day we have with him is a gift. I know there most likely won't be many more. I'm grateful for that at any price. 

Lastly, I recently asked my Taiwanese teacher to help me understand the full lyrics to Hometown at Dusk (黃昏故鄉). The most famous version is by Wen Hsia (文夏), but this version is the meditative one that calms me down. I'm grateful to have a teacher willing to help make the lyrics accessible, and grateful to have learned it. 

In a life where, thanks to a decision I made two decades ago, when I travel, the place of golden-hour nostalgia that I think of when I'm homesick isn't my actual hometown, nor where I spent most of my adult life in the US. It's Taiwan. 

I'm grateful for this perspective shift, and how permanent it seems to be.  

Oh, I almost forgot.

Remember that earthquake not long ago that caused a Dictator Chiang statue to fall into a lake? 

That was awesome. I'm grateful for that. 

Has the KMT actually gone insane? (Unfortunately not -- they're just the same old evil)

國破山河在

I have a hankering to learn the oud. 

I don't know if it has to be an oud exactly. I'd be perfectly happy with a saz or a kanun. I might even be persuaded in the general direction of a kamancha.

This desire flickers persistently, blinking in and out of my sightline -- rather like my ability to write anything at all, or an unsatisfying situationship where one person repeatedly fails to commit, but also won't stop texting "u up" at the most inconvenient times. It is resistant to any attempt at reasoning: you're in Taiwan, who the fuck is going to teach you the oud, you dumb idiot? Why don't you learn the erhu, guzhang or pipa? 

No, it has to be the oud. Or perhaps the kanun.

When I eventually get my heart's (current) wish, which is to spend three months working remotely from Yerevan in the mornings and practicing Armenian every afternoon, I will budget sufficient funds to buy one of these instruments and take lessons. I doubt I'll ever be any good, but I'll have taken a step. 

All this to say, I've had trouble paying attention to life in general, and to current affairs in particular. I'm still writing -- for pay, these days -- but otherwise I now require anxiety medication almost daily just to function. We're talking basic things: eating, sleeping, showering, deciding to do a thing and then successfully doing that thing. I'm not depressed, I'm just deeply anxious about, y'know, the usual. World War III, China annexing Taiwan, some of my friends having their existence outlawed in the country of my birth, a return to misogyny and fascism. 

Maybe if I can get my act together and save up enough money to do this Armenia thing, I'll feel perhaps an iota better. I'd like to do this before Armenia becomes yet another war zone as Russia ceases to pull the reins on Azerbaijan.

But it's important, I think, to one-foot-in-front-of-the-other it through the occasional blog post, even if it's in my own voice and a bit rambly. I can't or won't write like a journalist; that's on account of who I am as a person.

So let's talk about another thing making me anxious, the KMFT (the 國民-fucking-黨). 

If you're reading this, you probably don't need to be reminded about the KMFT's fuckshittery since winning a plurality in the legislature. But let's take a quick review, so we may gasp at the full horror of who they always were.

If you already know the story, you can skip the recap. If you don't, allow me to make the case that the KMFT isn't insane -- their actions over the past few years are too deliberate and line up with too much of their post-democratization history. They're not even off-kilter. They're actually just evil. 

Before the protests even kicked off, they were meeting with Chinese officials and sending classified information to the Chinese government.

Then, they tried to enact a garbage barge of legislation -- essentially giving themselves the authority of not just the legislature, but the judiciary and Control Yuan as well. I do mean judiciary: their attempt to make it possible to call anyone in for questioning, official, military or civilian, and then punish them with fines for "lying", not giving full information or refusing to answer is a kind of judicial power. After all, who decides what's a lie? 

This was so blatantly unconstitutional that the constitutional court very quickly overturned most of it. 

There's more to what they passed than this, but the whole "we can question anyone and punish them if we, not a judge, decide they are lying" thing will come up again. 

It wasn't hard to predict that their next target would be the constitutional court itself. Around Christmas, they rejected all of President Lai's judicial nominees, assuring that the constitutional court would not have a full complement of judges. This was a direct rebuttal to the court -- which, again, upholds the constitution -- telling the legislature that they had been a bunch of very naughty children.

Sex pest and convicted criminal Fu Kun-chi (傅崐萁), who is somehow also a KMFT legislator, said the court "castrated" the legislature. Yes, that's what should happen when you try to give yourself more or less unchecked power not granted in your own country's constitution. I only wish this phrasing described a more literal outcome for Fu. 

Protests started up again when the legislature later passed another dookie of questionable legislation, the scariest among these being a change to the proceedings of the constitutional court (the one that had just told them they weren't allowed to give themselves the largest share of power in the government), rendering said court non-functional.

To quote Kharis Templeman: 

The second [of these pieces of legislation] required the Constitutional Court to have a 2/3 quorum to hear constitutional cases and imposed a supermajority threshold to invalidate a law....

Four days later, the same opposition majority in the legislature voted down all seven of President Lai’s nominees to the Constitutional Court, leaving it with only eight justices and unable to meet the new quorum requirement for hearing a case. It is now effectively paralyzed [emphasis mine]. The DPP government has nevertheless requested that the court meet and rule anyway on whether the amendments to the Constitutional Court Act are themselves unconstitutional. This increasingly destructive partisan political conflict has put Taiwan on the brink of a constitutional crisis with no obvious way to resolve it. 

Templeman says this is the "brink" of a constitutional crisis. I would say that if the court is unable to rule on a law that paralyzes it, then we're already in one. 

Since then, the KMFT and their buddies, the TPP (led by a duo consisting of an alleged criminal narcissist and a boring workaday narcissist) have slashed budgets, including proposals that would all but obliterate defense spending and funding for government bodies that deal with the one country that necessitates Taiwan having a large defense budget in the first place.

One of these freezes includes half of the budget for building and maintaining Taiwan's defensive submarine program. You know, the same submarine program that KMFT legislator and overt traitor Ma Wen-chun (馬文君) undermined by selling its secrets to China. 

We can deduce from this not only that the KMFT wants to cripple Taiwan's ability to defend itself, but also that the indigenous submarine program is critical -- and China knows it. In fact, I wonder who exactly is telling the KMFT to target Taiwan's indigenous submarine development budget?

Oh wait no nevermind, I don't wonder. It's China. 

The KMFT calls all this "eliminating waste" or stopping "fat cats", or worse -- claiming the DPP is using the budget to fund "cyberwarriors" and "political manipulation".

But not only is the Taiwanese government actually rather efficient with its budget (much of the time anyway), but the biggest cuts seem to be to defense -- the exact thing Taiwan needs more of. I suppose one could point out specific inefficiencies in Taiwan's defense spending: are we really buying the weapons we need? Are we developing the right capabilities? Slashing critical defense funding, however, is not the way to fix this.

Besides, if we look at a timeline of when public opinion began to change compared to when the DPP has historically taken power, we find the shifts precede their successes. The DPP mostly didn't win those first elections in 1996, but public opinion shifted. Lee Teng-hui turned out not to be the politician the KMFT thought he was, but Chen Shui-bian didn't have access to government budgets to "manipulate" his election win in 2000. The country turned toward the Sunflowers and against Ma while the DPP were out of power, unable to use government budgets to manipulate anything. 

You know who did once use government budgets for political propaganda, back when it had absolute power? The KMFT. 

As all this was going on, one of my least favorite legislators, who unfortunately represents my district, announced the KMFT would propose an "honesty" act. 

The fuck is an "honesty act"? Sounds kinda fascist? 

Glad you asked. From the Taipei Times: 

“The opposition parties strive to safeguard people’s wallets. How can we paralyze the government with just a 3 percent budget cut?” he [Lo Chih-chiang / 羅智強] said, adding that the government was spreading rumors and that officials were lying, because they would not be penalized.

 

It's not a 3% budget cut, and even if it were, you're crippling the country's defenses. That's a big deal. It's part of freedom of expression, a basic human right, to analyze a series of events or set of data and come to different conclusions. To say that only the KMFT's version of events is 'true' and the DPP should be penalized essentially for disagreeing is -- well, it sounds like something Trump or Musk would say, and it's also the sort of thing fascist governments do.

The KMFT is aware of this, seeing as they used to run a fascist dictatorship. They're DARVO kings and have a bevy of experience! 

“Although Constitutional justices protect the right of governmental officials to lie at the legislature, they do not ensure their right to lie about political affairs. We are exploring the possibility of proposing the legislation of the honest government act and lying offenses for officials in the next legislative session. Let the public decide whether the officials are spreading rumors and lying,” Lo said.

The constitutional court did not say the officials have the "right to lie at the legislature". That itself could be considered a lie, although I doubt Lo would agree with me. They said that the legislature doesn't have the right to determine what is or isn't a lie, because they are not judges. If an official's potential or alleged lie, or any other illegal action, is worthy of an investigation by the judiciary or Control Yuan, they can do so.

As for "they do not ensure their right to lie about political affairs", what the everloving hell does that mean? I can't even really parse this statement, because there's no interpretation I can come up with that isn't utter nonsense. Either one lies in a provable way, which may or may not be criminal, or one doesn't, and it's for the courts to decide where appropriate. How does anything being "about political affairs" have any semantic value? 

"Lying offenses for officials" is just another way of re-introducing the exact same legislation the constitutional court already said was unconstitutional. There is no meaningful difference between this and what the KMFT and their lil puppets wanted to force through before they were hit with the spray bottle and told "no". 

"Let the public decide whether the officials are spreading rumors and lying" -- Lo, my dude, do you truly not understand what a "court" is? Courts do this, not "the public". This seems like something a populist would say, or rather, an elite shitbag trying to sound like a populist, which is just a lot of words to describe a fascist. That may sound like a leap, but fascists often use populist rhetoric to further their ultimate goals.

You're not original, Lo Chih-chiang, and you're not smart (I mean it -- your resume is impressive if one admires the sort of work you do, but you are really, really not smart). If you were, you'd hide it better. Or perhaps you should be punished for "lying", as you're lying about the DPP's use of the budget for "political manipulation". 

Maybe you think, Mr. Lo, that you don't have to hide it: a large number of Taiwanese voters appear to support crippling the constitutional court. The public seems less divided on cutting the defense budget -- they generally oppose it -- but it's not clear-cut.

I don't know if they quite understand that this creates the literal definition of a constitutional crisis, or they don't realize that ensuring the court can't meet quorum was intentional. Perhaps it seems 'truthy' that a minority of judges shouldn't be able to render rulings.

During last year's protests, someone I know asked sincerely what was wrong with the legislation that sparked all the anger. They wanted to know why the legislature shouldn't be allowed to question anyone it wanted and punish liars -- it seemed reasonable to them, and on its face, government questioning and punishments for providing false information sound like good things. We had a long talk about issues of legislative overreach and who, exactly, determines what is or isn't a lie. 

This highly-intelligent and otherwise thoughtful person had gotten all of their news from blue-leaning sources and discussions with blue-leaning family. All that intentionality, all those questions of checks and balances or ontological questions regarding the existence objective truth and whether humans are able to perceive it? Never considered. 

This sort of short-circuited thinking is exactly what the KMFT are banking on. Divide and confuse the people, then claim they're on your side and you're on theirs. Pretend the system is not as it is -- with a judiciary and a set of procedures for determining facts and accountability -- but as you'd like it to be. Then, with everyone flustered and exhausted, do whatever the fuck you want, or rather, whatever your CCP overlords order. Act utterly insane, claiming to love a country you are so obviously trying to undermine for selfish, stupid reasons, while convincing a large portion of the electorate that the crises you are creating are in fact saving the country. 

Sound familiar, or familiar-ish? Yeah, thought so. 

As a friend once observed, someone (or several someones) in the KMFT regularly study Republican tactics to figure out how to win elections when their fundamental party principles aren't all that popular among voters, and neither are many of their specific policy objectives. 

You might still be asking why -- why do this to Taiwan? The KMFT has never cared about Taiwan qua Taiwan; they don't tend to hide their belief that they believe the warmth of their white sun shines from China. But aren't the ROC and its constitution supposed to be things they do love -- and which exist only in Taiwan? Even if we accept that many KMFT officials are essentially CCP agents if not outright spies (hi Ma Wen-jun) because they believe it will benefit them personally, wouldn't they at least try to bring about closer relations while upholding the internal workings of the constitution? 

I mean, if they really believed that their ideals -- well, their one ideal, that Taiwan is ultimately a part of China -- were superior to the DPP's, or that the public could be persuaded of this, they would campaign on those ideals. If they really believed that government funds were being used for DPP "political manipulation", they wouldn't be cutting the submarine budget. 

So, okay, that does seem pretty insane. But it's not. 

The KMFT probably does still ultimately believe in a Chinese identity, for themselves (fine, whatever) and for Taiwan, regardless of what the people think (bite me). Somewhere deep down, they would prefer to keep the ROC around. They'd love their dream of re-taking the motherland to be made reality. 

But they're neither stupid nor crazy -- well, some of them are, but not all. They also know that's just not going to happen, so they'll do the other thing the KMFT has always coveted: grab as much power and money for themselves as they possibly can, and screw everyone else. China knows this, and is feeding them general guidelines, and in some cases perhaps specific instructions, on how to implode Taiwanese rule of law and defense capability with the promise of some sort of payday. 

That payday will never come, of course, but they're not smart enough to realize it. Best case, they'll get Real Seymour Skinnered, which in China probably means a trashy villa in some podunk town in, I dunno, Qinghai, with no real power and 'friendly visits' for tea every few years. 

KMT: "But we're heroes! We gave you Taiwan!"

CCP: "And we salute you for it. Now don't come back!"

To be effective CCP minions, they need to cut the constitutional court off at the knees, all while claiming to uphold the constitution. Then they can pass whatever horseshit they want. If this sounds a bit like Republicans blocking Obama's nominees so they could pack the court with sympathizers and then push through whatever they want, well -- again, studying Republican tactics seems to be someone's full-time job down at the KMFT.

I don't think they want a war, either. Not because they care about Taiwan or Taiwanese people, but because it would both adversely affect whatever money and power they hope to squeeze out of the whole situation, and be against the CCP's wishes. China doesn't want a war -- they want Taiwan to be so demoralized, so certain they can't win, that they just give up. 

No, it's worse than that. They don't want Taiwan to simply believe it can't win -- they want it to actually be true, to ensure Taiwan won't try. Annexation without "bloodshed" (at least at first) -- it won't be peace, but they'll call it that.

I told a friend recently that my worry has grown dark and weedy of late, more foreboding than my usual garden-variety dislike of the KMFT. With recalls harder than ever, a bunch of CCP agents and their DUI-hire goons running the legislature, elections years away and the US so unstable that international support is far from guaranteed, China's move to take Taiwan doesn't feel like it could happen in the next four years -- I truly feel that it will. 

And then I, along with all my friends here, will either be refugees, or dead. 

This friend has a habit of knowing things, and almost always being right about Taiwanese politics. If anything, they're overly conservative: they gave the TPP two years to implode before the Dueling Narcissists wrecked the party's momentum through either rampant corruption or vicious infighting. It took...what, ten months? 

When I said I wasn't just worried in the usual way but genuinely, bone-crushingly scared, all they could say in response was, and I quote: "Same."

You want dark? I've recently been thinking about how my core friends in Taiwan, foreigners and locals alike, will survive as a tribe among the less-radioactive ruins. We have a leader-type (that's me), a permaculture guy, a textile expert, an inter-tribal negotiator fluent in Mandarin, Taiwanese and English who makes restaurant aunties bend to her wishes, a defense fellow, a woman who knows about cars and a man who knows about gadgets. We might survive for a bit.

I'd rather continue to live a nice life in Da'an with my husband, cats and whiskey collection under Legislator Miao Po-ya, but that feels like a dream too far, thanks in no small part to my actual stump-brained legislator.

Maybe that's why I yearn for the oud. Sure, I'm reasonably good at music (except singing, don't ever ask me to sing). I enjoy the arts. I could learn some amazing Armenian folk songs and improve my language ability at the same time. 

But really, as I just want to be anywhere, mentally, but here.