Lo Chih-chiang (羅智強) handed me a Bullshit Gazette today

I was sitting at a picnic table in central Da'an trying to enjoy the balmy weather and a mediocre latte earlier today when I was approached by Legislator Lo Chih-chiang (羅智強) -- not someone working for him, but Lo himself. He was handing out "newsletters" that, when folded, looked like a newspaper.

Beyond the top third, however, the rest was just generic campaign pap to make Lo look good. I mean, it's mostly nonsense, but it's also nothing we haven't seen before. It's the least interesting thing about Lo's weird fake newspaper and I don't have much to say about it. This Threads post critiques it if you're curious. Some of it is typical district stuff (budgets, social housing, helping the elderly), and some of it is playing up his worst acts as legislator as though they're praiseworthy achievements.

I almost threw the thing in the trash where it belongs, but the fake newspaper caught my eye. Why this design choice? It came with a real article, although the print was so small that it was almost impossible to read. I doubt any of the older people he was handing it to bothered to try. 

But first, a bit about the recalls.

Lo isn't running for re-election yet, but he is facing a recall campaign that has real momentum. Of course, the Bullshit Gazette failed to directly address this. The fact that he walked around in person to hand these things out in solidly KMT-voting Da'an, in a neighborhood where he should be very popular, indicates that he's worried that against all odds, the recall might actually succeed. 

While not particularly likely, it's also not impossible. Activists running the recall campaigns have achieved surprisingly strong results even in the deepest blue KMT strongholds -- including the public housing complex where I was enjoying my coffee.

Even KMT-affiliated pollsters find that the right to recall is popular, and Lo is frequently attacked for unprofessionalism, a lack of substance and prioritizing influencer-like drama over real policy chops. Here's an example: during a questioning session with the chairman of the National Communications Commission (NCC), he screams "do you know what question I want to ask?" and when the chairman responds that he doesn't, he screams "get off the stage!" repeatedly, like a bratty toddler who needs a nap. Apparently, he shouted for 19 full seconds. The Bullshit Gazette mentions his participation in questioning sessions, but not the temper tantrums.

One of his biggest platforms is something he calls "media freedom" (my words, not his), but is entirely limited to fighting for the resumption of CTiTV (中天), a pro-China news network that lost its license over repeated violations, including taking editorial direction from the CCP via pro-China businessperson Tsai Eng-meng (蔡衍明). CTiTV still has a Youtube presence.

This person in a T-rex costume holding a "recall Lo Chih-chiang" sign looks more professional than that. I'm also a fan of this diss track, though it doesn't have many views.

And that's not even getting into accusations that he's in deep with the CCP, like all of the KMT legislators targeted for recall. He served under Ma Ying-jeou, resigning over the judicial interference kerfuffle with Wang Jin-pyng (王金平) and Ker Chien-ming (柯建銘). He tried to run for the presidency, and two city mayorships but the KMT, seeing him as a weak candidate, pushed him aside. He spent awhile in the Taipei city council before running in a district where it would be difficult to lose.

Now, between screaming at the NCC chair and fighting to keep the death penalty, he spends quite a bit of time defending the trips to China of convicted criminal, CCP collaborator and accused sex pest Fu Kun-chi.

In the last election, Luo faced stiff competition from Social Democratic Party candidate Miao Po-ya (苗博雅), who garnered the best result a non-KMT candidate has ever seen in this staunchly blue district, proving that Da'an doesn't have to be a KMT stronghold, per se. Lo should have been able to crush her, but he won by a narrow margin by Da'an election standards.  The DPP isn't doing terribly; they seem to be holding onto popularity better than the KMT.

Where did the article come from, though? Is The Commons Daily (民眾日報) still in print? I'd thought not. Hadn't it at one point taken editorial stances challenging the KMT's Martial Law? Why does it report on statistics with so much circumlocution? (We know the answer to that last one, of course). 

Technically it still exists, but the story is wild. Once a local stalwart, it was bought out by the deeply corrupt Pingtung politician Tsai Hau (蔡豪) who, in 2010, invaded the paper's office claiming ownership rights (it's unclear if he actually had such rights). It was then bought by a Hong Kong company called Yitong (一通科技股份有限公司), which apparently went defunct in 2022. Yitong apparently still owns it (how?) but control was transferred to someone named Tsai Yun-yin (蔡雲夤) under a company with no public profile to speak of. I don't know if Tsai Hau and Tsai Yun-yin are related. 

There are two websites with something similar to that name, neither of which try to hide their pro-unification stances and neither of which appear to have the workings of a whole newspaper behind them. 

They do, however, seem to make political donations and various government tender bids. Huh. 

It's not a lot of money by political influence standards, but I wonder where the money is coming from, and who it's going to.

The article comes from the first of these "The Commons Daily" links, but the logo comes from the second. Tsai apparently runs the first, but writes occasional local news articles for the second. I don't think there's any meaningful difference between them. There's also a barely readable third site with a similar name and content to the first, and probably more.

He seems to spend most of his time advocating for unification. It's just another example of Taiwan's media being intentionally hollowed out by unificationist forces creating pro-China "news" outlets. 

An article from this extremely sketchy source formed the top third of Lo's "newsletter" isn't proof of any direct connection, but it does perhaps imply one. Why choose this article from a shell newspaper controlled by a company that only seems to have one employee -- Tsai Yun-yin -- whose parent company appears to be defunct (so who's funding it?), and whose main activities seem to be running pro-China news sites using the 民眾日報 name and making various political donations? Where is the donation money coming from?

it does imply a level of "newsiness" to an otherwise nonsense article. Rather like the TPP deliberately choosing the name 「民眾黨」as a callback to Taiwanese history, this paper with a similar name and a long history in Taiwan makes a very deliberate implication. The name, the paper's history and the once-local focus give it an air of Taiwaneseness that it no longer has. This is intentional.

The header and article are both from March 2024 (note the year). It name-checks data from the KMT-affiliated Taiwan Public Opinion Center (TPOC or 台灣議題研究中心) which are AI-generated and based on online data -- it's a type of data, but not a poll or survey in the traditional sense. The "top ten" in terms of "voice" that the article references are not ranked in terms of popularity but some algorithm of online impressions and interaction. 

The March 2024 data is here, but what's more interesting is the 2025 version, and Lo doesn't rate. 2025 data also show the DPP has a lot more mobilization.

I found a similar poll from 2024, but from a different source, but Lo's favorability is shown as quite a bit lower than the article's claims (0.41 rather than 0.6). Not that data from 2024 means anything today -- a lot has happened since then.

That's not even getting into the odd presentation of the statistics. If Lo were popular, he wouldn't have to claim (questionably) that he had the highest favorability among this set of politicians in 2024. He could just say he's got high favorability now.  

There don't seem to be any statistics on his current favorability: at least, I couldn't find any after both searching and asking around. This poll from January says 60% of his constituents oppose recalling him, but the recall movement has gained momentum since then, and that's not a favorability ranking. What's more, it's from Lo's own think tank, so there's a conflict of interest there.

I did find this from the TPOC and it doesn't look good, but I doubt it means much: 

Let's talk a little about these think tank names. In a similar vein to using "people's" (民眾, not 人民 which has a bit of a "China" flavor) as a callback to a 1920s political party that advocated democratic reform and home rule, I can't help but notice that Lo's organization, the New Congress Think Tank (新國會智庫), sounds seemingly intentionally like the Taiwan Braintrust in Mandarin (新國會國智策庫). There are no results for Lo's think tank that I can find, but a search implies that the two think tanks are the same. They most certainly are not. 

The TPOC (KMT-affiliated, mostly uses AI-generated data of online influence reported widely by pan-blue media) and TPOF (an actual pollster reported widely by everyone else) have similar naming issues in English, but are more easily differentiated in Mandarin.

Lo's choice of article is also telling: nobody reads the newspaper he copped the article from anymore. It doesn't prove that Lo is in cahoots with the unificationists who hollowed out The Commons Daily to turn it into a pro-China mouthpiece, per se. It doesn't really matter, though; he has about as much substance as the website his "newsletter" quotes, and he's got similarly pro-China rhetoric. It doesn't matter if they're in the same circle of traitors and sellouts; their end goal is essentially the same. 

I'm not the only one to have noticed all this, but I am the only person writing in English who decided to go down this rabbit hole. 

It's quite a bit of effort to try to convince one's constituents that you're popular and influential and fighting for their rights rather than collaborating with Taiwan's biggest enemy. 

But if Lo needs to take an article from an extremely dodgy pro-China source from 2024 to help make his case, he hasn't got a case to make at all. 

How much danger is Taiwan truly in?

I don't know why this photo resonates vis-à-vis this post, but it did.

It doesn't matter if they're locals or immigrants -- more than ever, just about everyone I know in Taiwan is worried about a Chinese invasion. It's always been a question pushed to the far back of our minds: might it happen? If so, when and how? What will I do? Do I need an emergency plan?

The United States has a spotty record in global leadership, and that's putting it kindly. As an American, I'd argue that we've done more harm than good on the whole. However, abdicating that role in favor of screaming matches with world leaders, annexation threats against our closest allies, Nazi salutes, gutting our own government, conspiracy theory screaming, rape, felony convictions, arbitrary detention and deportation, other assorted screaming and low-budget car commercials has handed some of the other worst people in the world an unobstructed path to their own form of global domination.

In Taiwan, that's terrifying. Like it or not (and I mostly do not), the US is one of Taiwan's closest strategic partners despite the lack of formal recognition of Taiwan's statehood. The guy many people thought would be good for Taiwan in 2016 based on one phone call, some anti-China rhetoric and a few appointments of terrible people who happen to support Taiwan is now looking like...well, not a great bet. 

It's got a lot of us wondering what's in store for Taiwan, when our major strategic partner has not only become unreliable, but seems to have brain-hemorrhaged itself out of any sort of international stewardship. Since the 1990s if not earlier, and especially since escalating its annexationist rhetoric, the Chinese government can be reasonably assumed to operate under three assumptions:

1.) The ultimate goal vis-a-vis Taiwan is annexation.

2.) It is preferable for this to happen without war, i.e. convincing the people of Taiwan to accept unification by any means necessary, including political and media interference.

3.) If annexation without war is not possible, war is on the agenda once China believes it can win fairly easily. 

When Ukraine made a strong showing against Russia, China was very obviously watching both the Ukrainian resistance and global support amid the crumbling of Russian assumptions that this would be an 'easy' war and quick victory. Many of us felt a mixed sense of hope and foreboding: the buoy was Russia getting bogged down in Ukraine, showing that China might not have an easy time in Taiwan. The ballast was a global focus on not provoking China, rather than ensuring the CCP would not even be able to start such a war, along with general ignorance regarding how deep China's influence operations in Taiwan really go: 

Taiwan’s rugged terrain makes the country a defender’s paradise. If the Taiwanese people fight like Ukrainians, even a mighty PLA landing force would likely flail and be unable to kill its way into Taipei. With this in mind, CCP agents are working overtime to weaken resolve and soften up the “human terrain” of the future battlefield.

To enfeeble their victims, the CCP’s spy services, the shadowy Ministry of State Security (MSS) and PLA Liaison Bureau, are carrying out a sweeping campaign of covert operations. Their goal is to eat away at the Taiwanese government, military, and society from within. If their strategy achieved total success, they could subvert and overturn Taiwan’s democracy, leaving the occupation force to confront a short guerrilla war and American trade sanctions.

But even if the CCP’s dream scenario is unreachable, Beijing’s undercover operatives have already seduced, entrapped, and corrupted a sufficient number of opinion leaders to minimize a sense of crisis and pour cold water on public demands for action. Needed political and military reforms in both Taipei and Washington continue to be delayed.

“Let’s not forget the importance of one of the main targets of MSS influence operations: scholars, commentators, and non-governmental observers of China,” said Alex Joske, author of Spies and Lies: How China’s Greatest Covert Operations Fooled the World. “The degree of obliviousness and recklessness with which some of these people have treated the CCP is astounding.”

The distressing reality is that the CCP has an army of secret agents dripping poison into hearts and minds, and they have already been effective at making some seemingly common-sense policy changes appear unthinkable.

It's not just the media, and it's not just the KMT: that whole Ko Wen-je wave? A lot of that was China-backed. It runs deep, and Taiwan might be in big trouble if it doesn't counter these operations more effectively.

Even in 2023 when there was still hope that the world wouldn't be mostly run by fascist dictatorships, this was distressing. The writer of these chilling paragraphs? Ian Easton, a well-respected analyst, had been talking for years about how difficult it would be for China to actually pull off an invasion of Taiwan. But since 2020, even he's been saying a crisis might be on the horizon.

That war hasn't come quite yet, but the situation has gotten noticeably worse. The KMT/TPP-led legislature is full of traitors and bought-and-paid-for CCP agents, including the speaker (old DUI hand Han Kuo-yu) and caucus whip (convicted criminal Fu Kun-chi). Pro-China influencers retain audiences, although one of the worst offenders is losing her spousal residence permit over it. This problematic case, of course, has given the KMT the ammunition it needs to continue its attacks on the DPP as being 'fascist' and 'anti-democracy' -- which is quite the projection, considering which party oppressed democracy in Taiwan for generations.

The KMT even feels emboldened enough to propose a referendum that would seek public consent for bringing back Martial Law. Of course, if anyone would know how to conduct Martial Law in Taiwan, it would be the party that did so for the better part of the last century, but even I, a long-time KMT-hater, was shocked at their lack of remorse over their own history by proposing a sequel. There may be no constitutional court to stop it as the KMT is trying to gut that too. Cutting budgets that directly impact defense, especially the submarine budget, is another terrifying move. China seems very interested in Taiwan's indigenous submarine program, which means it's crucial.

On the China side, if anyone thought they were all talk and no game on invading Taiwan, the building of specialized barges for amphibious attack, presumably against Taiwan, they might want to sit down. This development should not be downplayed: if China will attack when it thinks it can win, it's obviously playing to win. Taiwan no longer seems to be a rhetorical device to them, something to be shouted about in speeches for effect and not much more. This is not a response to US threats or warmongering because the US is too wrapped up in its own self-destruction to warmonger much -- it's as simple as it looks on its face: we don't know when, but China is intending to invade Taiwan.

On the US side, all I can do is sigh. President Rapist and his tiny creeper screaming at President Zelenskyy was worrisome, yes. Blaming Zelenskyy for "starting the war" (fact check: Russia started the war, not Ukraine) should be chilling to anyone in Taiwan: if these jokers can DARVO the victim in Russia's invasion and say they started it, why wouldn't they do the same after a Chinese invasion? Honestly, they'd probably snark about how Taiwan shouldn't have been wearing such a short skirt if she didn't want it. 

What scares me even more is President Rapist's own remarks on Canada. 

"The only thing that makes sense is for Canada to become our cherished fifty-first state" sounds a lot like the CCP's "Reunification with the motherland is inevitable", that it's the inevitable course of history and the only reasonable outcome for Taiwan.

Threatening Canada with further tariffs, which of course don't work as President Rapist seems to think they do, and shaking his ugly little fist in the general direction of the Canadian economy absolutely echo the ongoing CCP attempts to tank the Taiwanese economy and thus demoralize the people into accepting China's "inevitable" plans. 

Calling Prime Minister Trudeau "Governor" is basically the same play as China insisting on calling the Taiwanese president anything but "president", and saying it's a "nasty country" to deal with (may I remind you, he's talking about Canada. Again, Canada) are echoes of China screeching that the Taiwanese government and the DPP in particular are the troublemakers and not open to dialogue, which some people believe despite it being a lie without even a kernel of truth to ground it.

I'm not even going to get into his remarks on Palestine and kicking everyone out of Gaza. That's just too depressing. It does show, though, that the current administration doesn't care at all about human populations, homes or lives.

If Taiwan's closest strategic partner is talking about Canada in more or less the same way China talks about Taiwan, blames Ukraine for Russia's war the way China blames Taiwan for what China wants to do, and is absolutely gutting the US government both domestically and in terms of international diplomacy and outreach, what kind of strategic partner do we even really have? President Rapist and Chancellor Musk lead a gang of idiot thugs for sure, but are they even a gang of thugs who'll beat up their allies' enemies? Doubtful. 

Do they even understand the strategic importance of Taiwan? Also doubtful, as they appear to have a child's understanding of international affairs, geostrategy and the global semiconductor industry. 

After Rapey D and the Roofie Crew abandoned Ukraine, Europe began to show greater support to one of their own. That's fantastic, but if the same thing happens to Taiwan, will its neighbors step up in the same way? Japan might as it faces similar strategic concerns, but otherwise I'm not so sure.

What does that give China? Well, it gives it #3 on that list above: a window of opportunity to start a war that it might actually be able to win. If you're in Taiwan and this doesn't scare you, it should. It could quite literally ruin your life. It might well ruin mine. Without the income we need to sustain our lives in Taiwan and our only support network being friends, not family, I genuinely worry that economic pressure will render us homeless if we stay to contribute to the defense effort.

In Taiwan's defense (pun intended), everyone in government except the legislature seems to understand the scale of the threat. Civil defense and resilience are priorities, and have been for awhile. Military exercises are being extended. Improvements in military service training have been discussed since 2022, and I do happen to know it's a priority: the government is aware that the old approach to mandatory service, which was mostly marching around, sweeping offices and chanting slogans, is not useful. 

Crucially, despite China's attempts to influence Taiwanese public opinion, most Taiwanese still identify as solely Taiwanese, almost nobody identifies as only Chinese, and only a minority identify as both. As of 2024, those numbers are still going strong. Whatever you're seeing on Dcard or some talking head told you on TVBS, it's not really true: Taiwan doesn't see itself as part of China, and that doesn't look poised to change.

The US may be a lost cause in just about every other way, but on Taiwan there are some faint rays of hope. Joint efforts in military and naval training are ongoing. Taiwanese representatives absolutely travel to the US frequently to do their best to work with President Rapist's administration as well as key state governments. There is no way that TSMC's announcement of massive further investment in the United States wasn't the result of some high-level discussions with government officials -- I don't know that for a fact, but it's the only logical conclusion.

Most importantly, I hate Marco Rubio in every other respect, and he supports Taiwan for all the wrong reasons, but he does support Taiwan. I can't say I'm angry about the State Department changing its public wording on Taiwan policy. The line about 'opposing Taiwan independence' never needed to be there, as Taiwan is already independent. Avoiding provocation with China was never a reasonable goal, as they'll always find something to be 'provoked' by. And yet, President Rapist has a history of firing officials who stand up to him, and his Most Divorced Weird Loser Nazi henchman has been clear that he thinks Taiwan is part of China. I'm not sure which horrible person is going to win out regarding Taiwan policy, but it's worth keeping an eye on.

I hate the idea of Taiwan continuing to work closely with a country currently run by fascists (if government officials and pseudo-officials are giving Nazi salutes and arresting dissidents while ignoring court rulings, that government is fascist). I'd love for Taiwan to be able to defend itself to the point that China has no option but to take invasion permanently off the table. 

For now, though, Taiwan can't afford to ignore world affairs, and it certainly can't disavow President Rapist -- the world's most unreliable felon. 

China knows that. It sees how weak the US is making itself, and I do truly fear that something terrible is coming. 

Worst of all, every time I say this to friends of mine who Know Things, they nod and look sad, or admit they're worried too.

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. 

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. 

Chinese extraterritorial laws prove there can be no peace under "one China"

Beijing has adopted a new set of 'guidelines' that allow the Chinese government to try and convict Taiwan independence advocates in absentia, according to Xinhua. 

I advise you to read the entire thing -- the English translation is entirely comprehensible, and I relied on it as I do not read Simplified characters -- but it's even more insane than it seems on the surface. And frankly, that's saying a lot. 

Commentary so far has zeroed in on the inclusion of the death penalty for some "separatists", although the part about "deprivation of political rights" gave me a chuckle, because it's not like the People's Republic allows its citizens to access any true political rights: 

Those who cause particularly serious harm to the state and the people and whose circumstances are particularly heinous may be sentenced to death. Active participants shall be sentenced to fixed-term imprisonment of not less than three years but not more than ten years. Other participants shall be sentenced to fixed-term imprisonment of not more than three years, criminal detention, controlled release, or deprivation of political rights.

 

The range of "crimes" that can incur anything from a prison sentence to death are extremely vague: 

The guidelines also detailed what is considered crimes worthy of punishment, including promoting Taiwan’s de jure independence, advocating the nation’s entry into international organizations whose memberships are limited to sovereign states, engaging in official exchanges and military contacts abroad, and conspiring to create “two Chinas,” or “one China, one Taiwan,” in the international community.

They also include taking advantage of one’s authority in education, culture, history and the media to “distort or falsify facts about Taiwan’s historical links to China,” and “suppressing” parties, groups or individuals that promote peaceful cross-strait relations and “reunification” with China, as well as “other acts that seek to separate Taiwan from China.”

 

This is obviously off the rails, so much so that I barely even need to write about it. But what makes it even crazier, at least to me, is the assumption that if tried in absentia, defendants would actually believe it possible enough to get a fair trial in China that they'd send a defense team or appeal the verdict: 

In cases where the People's Court tries in absentia the crimes of "Taiwan independence" diehards who split the country or incited secession, the defendant has the right to entrust or have a close relative entrust one or two defense lawyers on his behalf. If the entrustment is made abroad, the authorization shall be notarized and authenticated in accordance with relevant regulations...

When the people's court tries in absentia a case of a "Taiwan independence" diehard splitting the country or inciting secession, it shall deliver the verdict to the defendant, his or her immediate family members, and the defense counsel. If the defendant or his or her immediate family members are dissatisfied with the verdict, they have the right to appeal to the people's court at the next higher level. The defense counsel may appeal with the consent of the defendant or his or her immediate family members.

 

I didn't know that the CCP was considering a career in stand-up comedy, but anyway, what does this actually mean? 

First, it attempts to silence Taiwan activists or those who'd be inclined to agree with them, mostly in Taiwan, but perhaps beyond it as well. It's meant to scare two types of people: pro-independence Taiwanese, and public figures anywhere in the world who might have reason to go to China in the future. For those in Taiwan, the PRC is essentially saying "we know we can't do anything to you now, but annexation is inevitable, and once that happens you're toast -- even if your activism ceases the moment we take control." 

In fact, it could be taken further than that: they're not just enacting Hong Kong-style repression in advance. They're making it easier to draw up a list of names now, so that if (when?) they do invade, they'll be able to snatch them that much more quickly. It's easier to keep people from escaping if you know who you want to punish in advance. 

Just as a little side note, there's a history of this in my own family. My great-grandfather was an Armenian fedayi, a fighter in the Turkish-Armenian war of 1920. Apparently he was quite the sniper. He moved to Athens and married soon after, but left on the eve of WWII. It wasn't just a general sense of danger: apparently the Nazis looked into things like, oh, say, whether you had a history of armed resistance. My great-grandfather did. The whole family fled.

That's the point I want to really drive home: every once in awhile some wrongo dongo gets it in their head that there can be peace if we just give China what it wants. It's better than a war, right?

But this is not possible. China's "peace" means hunting down and murdering activists, including friends of mine. For supporters who perhaps don't take an active role, it can mean worry for the rest of your life that something you said in erstwhile democratic Taiwan might come back to haunt you, costing you your job, your freedom or your life. 

I've heard people say it's not such a big deal to lose basic freedoms, that it's better than perishing under bombs and guns. Now imagine you surrender those freedoms to escape the guns, only to find your friend shot because he said something five years ago that your new masters don't like. Imagine they start asking you questions, and under duress you admit you attended a few protests, maybe voted for the DPP. Maybe you get shot too. 

Let's say you want to leave, but you can't, because you're associated with people whose names were on a list before the first PLA soldier's boots touched Taiwanese soil. They can take everything from you, including your life. 

That's how it will be, and it's not peace. There can never be peace under "one China". I can say right now that if China takes Taiwan, I have friends who will be murdered under this law. That is simply not peace. 

I could have said all of this a year ago, two years ago -- it's always been true. It's just that now they've made it more official. 

In theory, this could include me. I don't think I'm important enough to be noticed, but the danger is not zero. 

This also effectively bars anyone who's spoken for Taiwan from ever going to China, even if they don't intend to engage in any pro-Taiwan speech while there. You'd think it'd be easy to avoid going to China, and certainly the most prominent activists are banned. But Taiwanese companies do send employees to China on business. Now it's not safe to go, even if your work requires it, if you've made so much as a passing comment online, from Taiwan or anywhere else where access to freedom of speech is protected. 

This isn't a new notion for China, which convicted and imprisoned Lee Ming-che for five years, over his actions in Taiwan, where everything he wrote was fully legal.

In fact, the least scary thing about this is that the Chinese government has been detaining and kidnapping people, putting them through kangaroo courts if they're lucky, without a set of regulations to make it official. This is just paperwork; it's always been the case in practice. Beijing has likely already been keeping a list of people who'll be up against the wall if their annexation bid succeeds; this would just make more efficient. Killing sprees run so much more smoothly if the victims have already been convicted in absentia! 

As these regulations apply to anyone, not only Chinese nationals and Taiwanese whom Beijing insists are Chinese, they potentially affect any journalist, writer, academic, artist or public figure from anywhere in the world. As the Taipei Times source noted: 

Noting that US President Joe Biden has said he does not rule out using military force to defend Taiwan if China unilaterally tries to change the “status quo” across the Strait, they asked: “Does the CCP dare punish him?”

 

We could get more ridiculous with this: could Katy Perry be put on trial in absentia? Enes Kanter? Jensen Huang? John Oliver? Any foreign journalist who has simply reported that Taiwan is self-governed and polls show it wishes to stay that way? Researchers at Acasdemia Sinica who consistently publish polls showing Taiwanese don't consider themselves Chinese? 

How many pro-Taiwan people will look at their business travel needs and decide it's better to stay silent? Perhaps not all, but possibly some. How many of those fence-sitters who say they do believe that Taiwan isn't China but "want peace" or think China taking over is "inevitable" are going to decide it's better to just be quiet? If it's so "inevitable", they're toast, right?

Finally and perhaps most obviously, it silences anyone in China who thinks Taiwan deserves recognition of its current sovereignty, or at least attempts to. The regulations don't differentiate by citizenship, so this could be anyone -- Chinese citizens who were perhaps willing to say that Taiwan doesn't necessarily need to be "reunified", Taiwanese living or working in China, and even foreign residents in China who use VPNs to access the real Internet. I doubt they'd bother going after most such people, though they might pick off one or two Taiwanese in China to set an example. 

If we're really going to dive into what this could mean, trial in absentia does imply a warrant, and will generally result in a verdict. Although it's unlikely, at least theoretically this could embolden China to start issuing warrants or hounding Taiwan activists just as they do Hong Kong exiles. It's not just the National Security Law "in advance", it could well be attempting to promulgate the most chilling provisions immediately.

Outside of both China and Taiwan, attempts to arrest Tawian activists based on such a conviction in absentia would most likely but not necessarily be rebuffed, rendering a whole host of countries friendly to China now dangerous for anyone who's ever advocated for recognition of Taiwan's sovereignty. Although I haven't had much time to consider it, off the top of my head, I'd be worried about parts of Southeast Asia -- say, Cambodia, which has warm ties with the PRC, or Thailand, where Hong Kong activist Joshua Wong was detained and publisher Gui Minhai kidnapped.

If I were being super thirsty, I could ask you guys which countries you think Taiwan activists might get detained or kidnapped from. Where are you afraid to go now? Leave your top choice in the comments below, and don't forget to smash that subscribe button!

(Do I even have a subscribe button? Doubt it.)

Would Xi Jinping congratulate a drag queen?

She'll be in your head all weekend

I mean...no, but let's talk about it. 

This past weekend, Taiwanese American drag queen Nymphia Wind won RuPaul's Drag Race, and everyone I know in Taiwan went mad with joy. From friends' pictures (I was at home, being boring), I could see Ximending erupting into a party. She is amazing, by the way.

It was also a massive soft power win for Taiwan. The type of soft power that a thousand politicians brainstorming in a thousand breakout sessions for a thousand years could not have engineered. Taiwan is in the international news right now on its own terms -- not amid rising tensions with China -- showing that we need drag queens, and black metal bands, theater festivals and the support of pro basketball players. No amount of ads on the side of buses will ever generate this much buzz.

You might be tempted to leave China's ongoing bullying of Taiwan out of all this, but Nymphia doesn't seem to be. After winning she exclaimed "Taiwan, this is for you" and openly calls Taiwan a country. In her acceptance, she said to "live fearlessly" -- perhaps not intended as a nod to Taiwan's refusal to give in to China's threats, but it sure felt relevant.

Notably, even the international media who reported her win, identity and calling Taiwan a 'country' continued in their own writing to label Taiwan as merely an island. They couldn't bring themselves to call Taiwan what their subject herself calls it. 

The media is incorrect, by the way: yes, the main island is also 'Taiwan', but Taiwan as a country is not an island, it's an archipelago. Editors, get your act together. Reporters, chastise your editors! 

I've already tweeted that we can all see how culturally different China and Taiwan are by the fact that President Tsai congratulated Nymphia on Twitter (the only thing I will deadname) -- something Xi Jinping would never do if a Chinese or Chinese-American drag queen had won. 

Even if they said "China, this is for you!" Especially if they said that, I bet. He'd hate the notion that China or Chinese culture might be associated with drag.

In fact, the very idea that Xi or the CCP would embrace drag or anything associated with the LGBTQIA+ community almost does not compute. It would never happen. Beijing, which certainly wants to dominate the world both culturally and literally, doesn't even seem to be aware that these spaces and communities exist and are vectors of soft power, let alone want big soft power wins or representation. 

Of course, discussions of her win are, according to the Washington Post, being downplayed in China: 

In fact, Chinese fans of “RuPaul’s Drag Race” seem to be going out of their way to avoid talking about Nymphia Wind’s success, apparently afraid of being caught up in the escalating tensions across the Taiwan Strait. “Drag Race” fan accounts on the Chinese microblogging site Weibo said they would minimize discussions about Nymphia to “protect their nascent drag scene.”

I can understand wanting to protect China's drag scene, but I genuinely do not think LGBTQIA+ equality in Taiwan can be divorced from China's aggression. China insists that Taiwan is Chinese, but this is one way in which China and Taiwan culturally are very, very different. There are many others. 

Perhaps this is an unfair assertion. It's not like queerness is unheard of in China, even historically. It's impossible to know with much certainty what most Chinese citizens think about LGBTQIA+ issues, because it's impossible to conduct such polls in totalitarian systems which oppress those communities from the top down. I would surmise that if you did ask, most Chinese would express some form of disapproval, but it's also unfair to ignore the state's active and intentional quashing of discussion of the issue. It's like that ridiculous poll finding 95% approval ratings for the CCP -- as though it were even possible to conduct such a poll and get a valid result in China! 

In other words, we won't know whether Chinese society might evolve to be tolerant of, or even embrace, LGBTQIA+ communities until the government is no longer a dictatorial nightmare. If China ever democratizes, then we'll see. 

But for now, though? The CCP is trying very hard to control the Chinese cultural narrative -- to be the sole arbiters of what is and is not "Chinese culture". At this moment, that does not include anything that Nymphia Wind represents. 

Taking it even further, those who want to force Chinese identity on Taiwan -- cultural or otherwise -- similarly do not have room in their tiny, sad worldviews for people like Nymphia Wind. Could you imagine CCP bootlicker Ma Ying-jeou congratulating her the way President Tsai did, were he still president? I can't. People like him, including everyone who shakes their cane and yells at clouds insisting that Taiwan is Chinese, ancient Chinese culture, 5,000 years, etc. etc. whatever shut up, simply do not understand Taiwan.

No matter what people like Ma and Xi shriek about Taiwan and China sharing a culture, they fundamentally misunderstand what culture is. Either they think it's just blood and DNA (it isn't), or that every nation or culture requires an associated ethnicity (they don't), or they point to fairly superficial manifestations of culture like architecture or holidays or even language. 

Culture is so much more than that: it's the means by which a group of people understand the world. Metaphorically speaking, it's a lens. And not just the outside world: culture is the lens through which you see your own community's touchstones, including architecture, holidays and language. It's what those things mean to you. It's how you relate to others, and how you treat others. In this case, it's how your country generally sees and treats its LGBTQIA+ community. In this, China and Taiwan are simply not the same. 

It's not like LGBTQIA+ acceptance is incompatible with various Asian cultures. Thailand is inching closer to being the second Asian country to recognize marriage equality. We may see it within the year. Singapore, which pretends it's a full democracy but, well, isn't, has finally been making moves in the right direction. Even Japan is figuring this out, with most Japanese supporting marriage equality. There are already openly-operating activist networks there. With luck, we'll see it happen there within the next decade. With a lot of luck, in the next five years. A girl can hope, anyway. 

In Taiwan, the first Asian country to legalize same-sex marriage no matter how much WaPo wants to demote it to an island, it's not necessarily just the young anymore: 

While Nymphia Wind is a role model for younger queens, she’s trying to reach a wider — and older — audience in Taiwan.

She hosted a groundbreaking drag show at a Taoist temple in Taipei in October, unfurling a giant rainbow flag from a pagoda-like stage as young and old celebrated a queen who, as she put it, had “descended from heaven to bless the queer mortals.”

“Old people are my target audience. I just feel like they could have a bit more fun, you know?” she said in an interview after the temple performance.

Such an evolution is clearly possible in China, it's just not likely as long as the country is ruled by brutal, reactionary genocidaires who want to control not only their own country's cultural narrative, but also Taiwan's. 

Remember that famous line from Princess Leia? The more you tighten your grip, the more star systems will slip through your fingers. The more the CCP insists on defining Chinese culture and then demanding that Taiwan follow along, the more Taiwanese will continue to live fearlessly.

Teacups vs. Plate Tectonics

All of us two weeks ago, on the Buluowan Suspension Bridge, which probably no longer exists

Like just about everyone in Taiwan last week, my Wednesday morning started with a massive shake-up. I sat on the couch drinking my morning coffee with a hefty dollop of doomscrolling and thinking about an upcoming workday which, at 7:57am, was about one minute away from not being a workday at all. 

When the alert hit my phone, my half-caffeinated brain took about two seconds to register that it was not only telling me in English to a coming quake and the need to take cover, but also in Mandarin that it was "significant", with "strong" shaking. I don't know how common it is for alerts to state so clearly the expectation of a major seismic event, but it did give me about three seconds to dive under my dining table and hold on. 

I don't have a particularly interesting story to tell: in fact, the most notable thing about my big earthquake experience is how little I was affected. My clients asked to postpone that day as we were all pretty stunned, and a few cracks appeared in my walls. That's about it. I continued with my plans to go camping the next day, after the organizers of the group confirmed the safety of the site and the tricky road to get there.

Even my teacups survived, and they were adhered to their curio shelf with nothing more than tiny globs of Blue-Tack. This was a particular surprise: one of my thoughts as I crouched under that table afraid for my life had been oh man, those teacups are goners!

Not everyone was so lucky; though no one I know was injured, many others were, and for the rest of the day I watched pictures of my friends' trashed apartments roll across my feed.

And yet, I spent the rest of the day -- now suddenly free to let my mind wander -- in low-grade freakout mode. 

Of course I was worried for Hualien, but this went beyond concern for the welfare of a nearby city. It was something personal; it came from the core. 

These teacups survived the 2024 earthquake

While I crouched under the dining table, my husband (wisely) stayed right where he was in bed, seeing as the frame is too low for either of us to fit underneath it. It was indeed scary to be in two different rooms, able to communicate but not see or help one another. Both of our cats bolted to their favorite inaccessible hiding places; in a truly life-threatening emergency, I would not have been able to grab them. 

Was this the source of my slow-rolling panic attack? Was I spooked that I'd be separated from my core family in Taiwan if the roof literally or figuratively caved in?

That surely played a part, but my gut knew that wasn't the whole of it. 

In Taipei the quake felt like it could have been a real emergency, but in the end it wasn't one. Countless articles have already been written on the surprising resilience of Taiwan, when other countries hit by seismic disasters of similar magnitudes have been devastated. Turkey comes to mind: the Antakya earthquake killed many more. (This strikes a nerve with me as my ancestry weaves through Antakya. I'd been hoping to return).

Or perhaps it's not so surprising: Taiwan also impressed the world with its COVID response, and has built a successful, developed nation despite the world's lack of recognition and the unceasing threat from China.

A death toll that stands at 13 -- though I think it's likely to go up in coming days -- is indeed impressive: like Taiwan's COVID response, it shows that when the country goes through a humanitarian disaster, whether the 1999 earthquake or 2003 SARS epidemic, it learns from it and does better next time. 

Knowing this doesn't seem to have improved my mental state, however.

Perhaps my inability to calm down and face the day stemmed from a trip we'd taken two weeks previously. We took visiting family on a 環島, or 'round the island' journey by train and car -- starting in Hualien. 14 days before the earthquake, almost to the hour, we were in Taroko National Park, navigating the cliff overhangs on the Shakadang Trail. You know, the one where some hikers were killed. We walked on the suspension bridge that appears to no longer exist. We drove over the bit of Suhua Highway that collapsed. Our driver for the day dropped us off at Dongdaemun Night Market to kill time between our day at Taroko Gorge and our dinner reservations; she waited for us across the street from the Uranus Building. 

Was it that? Having been in the exact location of all of these calamities so recently that I hadn't even shared pictures with my in-laws yet? Realizing that I saw Taroko Gorge just two weeks prior to its indefinite closure?

That certainly had something to do with it. It is unnerving to look at a bit of landslid trail or collapsed infrastructure and realize you were just there. But no, that was an insufficient explanation and deep down, I knew it. After all, those who were actually there when the quake happened either didn't survive, or had it immeasurably worse.

Unable to comprehend my own reaction, I sat on my couch, drank tea and stared at my teacups. Almost all of them were Taiwan-made, either by local artisans or a Taiwanese company. Two have a floral pattern commonly associated with Hakka culture (although I'm not sure how accurate the connection is). A few are Japanese and one came from an import store in New York. They're all very delicate, but they've survived up there for longer than anyone could reasonably expect them to. Any number of earthquakes should have brought them crashing to the floor by now. 

I stared at them and dreamed up an alternative reality, or a possible future, where I sit on that same couch drinking that same kind of tea, hearing an alert pop up on my phone as air raid sirens start a horrifying crescendo. I conjured fictitious (for now) Chinese missiles landing nearby. They create more cracks in my walls. My husband is somewhere else; I can't reach him. The cats flee to their secret spots. The cement crumbles, the furniture shakes, and the first teacup is forced free from the sticky tack holding it in place. Then another, and another. 

In this other world, they all eventually tumble and shatter. There is nothing I can do about it. 

It's not quite the same as an earthquake. The missiles are man-made; they're not the result of a natural process. They're not entirely random, and they're not inevitable. Tectonic plates move because that's just what they do. For them to behave differently, Earth would have to be a fundamentally different planet. These missiles I imagined were decided by someone. Earth didn't decide to kill 13 people this past week; it moved because it moves, and 13 people died. But missiles don't just fall on a city; someone fires them. A leader orders them. They are part of a chain of events in which some people choose to kill others.

And yet it is sort of the same as an earthquake, too. In Taiwan, a Chinese attack, like an earthquake, is an ever-present danger. There is little I will be able to do if it happens except dive under my table and hang on. If my husband isn't with me there will be no way to change that.

There's also nothing I can do to stop it from happening in the first place. Sure, someone decides to make bombs fall, but in that moment, what will matter to my life is that, like the earth shaking, bombs are falling.

There's not much Taiwan can do about it either. Diplomacy doesn't work when the other side doesn't keep promises and won't even come to the table unless their counterpart renounces their sovereignty, as China is insisting Taiwan do. Dialogue doesn't work when China isn't interested in hearing Taiwan's utter lack of interest in unification. Assurances don't work when the only assurance China wants -- that unification is possible -- isn't one that Taiwan can sincerely or reasonably offer. 

China will attack Taiwan when it thinks it can win, and no amount of playing nice will change their calculus. Only making the odds of winning less favorable will stop it, and there's only so much Taiwan can do in that regard. 

Like an earthquake, you can prepare, and analyze, and improve the nation's resiliency. A Chinese invasion is not inevitable simply because China could choose not to invade, but sitting here in Taipei, does it matter? It doesn't feel like Taiwan can truly stop China, just as it can't stop an earthquake. If China is determined to start a war because Taiwan can't give it the only thing it wants, there isn't much Taiwan can do to avert it. As with earthquakes, it can only make itself and its public institutions much harder to topple. 

I didn't do anything wrong on Wednesday morning: I dropped, covered and held on when it seemed like it really mattered. Sure, I repeatedly shouted "fucksnacks!" through the whole thing, but that's an understandable reaction. When the shaking stopped, I forced myself to get up, check on my husband, locate my cats' hiding places, survey the apartment to make sure there was no obvious major damage, and start messaging people that we were okay. 

The fear and anxiety didn't subside, though, and I wasn't particularly proud of the fact that all I really wanted was to cower under that table for awhile longer. I didn't want to get up, dust off, check for damage and start communications; I wanted to curl up and hide. That desire amplified the anxiety. Then I started to feel anxious specifically about the anxiety, which made the original anxiety worse. That deterioration led to more anxiety, which accelerated the spiral, and so on.

That's really what drove it: I experienced an almost-emergency over which I had no control. This was as close a taste as I'm likely to get of what it would feel like if China attacked Taiwan without warning. And I did everything right, but I still had a panic attack, and then I had a panic attack about my initial panic attack.

My insistence that I'm going to stay and fight suddenly felt like a hollow gasconade. That I did everything right didn't feel like proof that I have steel nerves, because it was necessary to force myself to accomplish any of it. What if I'm a liability rather than a help because I can't get it together?

That helplessness is utterly terrifying, and it does not matter whether it's a severe earthquake in progress or bombs from some brutal genocidal regime that might kill you.

Like most people who live in Taiwan, I'm always aware of the threats faced by the country I call home. I don't usually let them get to me; a life lived in fear is not really a life. At some point you have to get up, dust off, and go to work. Pay your bills, see your friends, do your chores, do your job, drink your drinks, cook your food, take your trips, read your books, call your parents, feed your cats. 

The Commentariat sometimes fires up this weird narrative that Taiwanese people don't care enough about the threat from China, that they're complacent or ignorant, and thus unprepared. While Taiwan could probably be spending more time and effort on this, the notion that its citizens are blissfully unaware of the looming threat isn't just nonsense, it's a funhouse-mirror distortion of reality. 

People living in Taiwan are aware of the threat pretty much all the time, as they are for earthquakes. But it's not healthy to live in a constant state of heightened anxiety -- that leads to real mental health problems, and I would know. It's also not possible to maintain, and not helpful. 

Living with it for just a day affected my mental state all weekend. Imagine living it every day in a war zone. Some people are living it now, and someone, somewhere, has lived it every single day any one of us has been alive.

Now imagine that, but you're not even in a war zone. You're at the supermarket, or in a cubicle, or in class, hyper aware at all moments that your big bully neighbor could start raining death on everything you love. 

It's no way to live. 

Nobody expects people in an earthquake zone to live in constant fear; they know it pickles the brain. Yet they express surprise that Taiwanese people don't do so as a response to the threat from China. Why?

Taiwan has survived for longer than many thought it would, showing the world the benefits of learning from mistakes and having a plan, as well as taking practical steps so that when disaster strikes and the plan must be executed, it actually works -- Democratic norms, public institutions and civil society must all be robust and well-maintained. Budgets approved, regulations promulgated and double-checked.

These norms and institutions so often seem like abstractions, and the realpolitik crowd would like you to believe they are fragile, easily broken, no real defense against the inevitability of a subjugationist strongman. Yet at least in Taiwan, they appear to be both fragile and surprisingly resilient, at the same time. Teacups can survive an earthquake, if they're well-anchored. Porcelain can stand up to plate tectonics, and win.

I don't know if it's enough, but I suppose it has to be -- for everyone living here including myself.