True Left

Ok so I’m probably at the receiving end of when I was nervous to show up at the music topic back in summer 2023.
Speak of which, meet me at the music topic.

"Aerobics/cardio can also be comparable to the stamina based labor of Neolithic subsistence farmers:"

I agree, except the latter expends energy for labour, whereas the former expends energy for the sake of expending energy, which feels wasteful. For example, I myself dislike going on runs (track/treadmill/etc.) that fulfill no practical travel purpose. Instead, I prefer incorporating running into my grocery shopping (empty backpack outbound, backpack filled with groceries inbound), which achieves a journey that I would have needed to go on anyway. I despise those who exercise in the gym but also drive cars everywhere. If they are willing to expend so much energy, why not expend part of it to drive less? Similarly, I despise even more those who exercise in the gym but also hire domestic help for cleaning the house. Why not clean the house yourself FFS? And so on.

Foul play behind death of Counterculture leader?

For generations of Chinese audiences, the 1980s television series The Legendary Fok (Da Xia Huo Yuanjia) remains an insurmountable cultural peak. Streets emptied as viewers gathered to witness the spirit of Huo Yuanjia and Chen Zhen. Above all, Bruce Leung Siu-lung’s portrayal of Chen Zhen—unyielding, righteous, and intolerant of evil—left an indelible mark. His flying kick shattered not only the infamous “Sick Man of East Asia” signboard, but symbolically struck back at a century of national humiliation.

Previous Leung coverage:

https://trueleft.createaforum.com/issues/media-decolonization/msg31051/#msg31051

https://www.bilibili.com/video/BV1AF411w7m2/

Back to first link:

In life, Bruce Leung closely resembled Chen Zhen himself: sincere, passionate, and deeply patriotic. Tragically, that devotion was misplaced.

As early as 1984, Leung traveled to mainland China filled with hope, publicly declaring: “As a Chinese person, I silently wish for the economic takeoff of my motherland.” This heartfelt statement, uttered against the backdrop of the Cold War, triggered a total blacklist from Taiwan. At the time, Hong Kong’s film industry depended heavily on the Taiwanese market, and directors no longer dared to cast him.

From stardom he fell into hardship. He sold goods at street stalls, hawked socks, and endured nearly twenty prime years without meaningful roles. What he never seriously confronted was the fatal misconception underlying his sacrifice: the CCP is not China, and the China he loved was never synonymous with the CCP. This misunderstanding cost him a lifetime.

Believing he had suffered for his “country,” Leung failed to see that the regime he defended never protected him. Only in 2004 did Stephen Chow’s Kung Fu briefly return him to public attention as the “Beast.” He could not have known that his turbulent life would end in such a grim and unsettling manner.

For decades, the author argues, Leung lived under the CCP’s united front influence—only recognizing the regime’s predatory nature at the very end.

Bruce Leung’s death: one forbidden video

By all accounts, Bruce Leung remained physically strong. A lifelong martial artist in his seventies, he practiced boxing and shared hotpot with friends the day before his death, showing no signs of illness. Yet death arrived with chilling precision.

The timeline is key:

    Jan. 13, 2026: Leung posted more than twenty emotionally charged videos on Douyin (China’s version of TikTok), speaking out about the Ningbo “Xiao Luoxi” child trafficking case. He declared: “I hope more people pay attention to trafficked children… I suggest severe punishment for traffickers, especially those who mutilate children. They should be sentenced to death. It’s too cruel.”
    Jan. 14, 2026: One day later, Bruce Leung died suddenly.
    Jan. 14–17, 2026: News of his death was comprehensively suppressed.
    Jan. 18, 2026: Friends quietly disclosed the death. The family announced that the funeral would be handled “low-key,” with burial scheduled for Jan. 26.

One day he calls for the death penalty for child traffickers; the next, he himself is gone.

Why did those words prove fatal?

In today’s China, the phrase “crack down on child traffickers” carries an unspoken implication: opposition to forced organ harvesting. According to allegations long circulated in overseas Chinese dissident circles, the CCP has transformed organ transplantation into a lucrative “pillar industry,” supplying elite longevity projects often referred to as the “150-year life program.”

Recall:

https://www.youtube.com/shorts/e0W_VQzLaio

Back to first link:

By explicitly condemning the mutilation of children—what the author equates with organ theft—Bruce Leung, a highly influential public figure, was seen as striking directly at one of the regime’s most secretive and profitable black chains.

The comment that appeared almost immediately under his video—“You’re in danger”—was not a joke, but a grim warning.

A bizarre ‘farewell’ and Jackie Chan’s coded message

After Leung’s death, a series of unsettling anomalies deepened suspicion.

On Jan.18, the day his death was made public, his Douyin account posted a strange message dated Jan. 14: “Please forgive my sudden departure. Just think of it as me going far away to shoot a film… I like a bit of mystery… Remember that I love you all.”

The tone resembles the “stability maintenance” scripts seen in numerous unexplained death cases—polished, sentimental, and implausible. The author argues that such words are incompatible with Leung’s blunt, martial temperament and appear manufactured to suppress questions and soothe public emotion.

Jackie Chan’s condolence message added another layer. He wrote: “Brother Leung, it’s snowing in Beijing. The sky is very overcast. I miss you.”

In Chinese political language, darkened skies often signal danger and unspeakable pressure. The author interprets this as the faintest signal an insider dared to send: that day, darkness ruled.

A bloody warning to Hong Kong’s cultural elite?

Bruce Leung’s death, the author contends, was not merely about silencing one man but about establishing terror. As public anger grows over organ harvesting allegations and grassroots resistance spreads, a figure of Leung’s stature speaking out risked triggering a cascade of elite dissent.
...
Bruce Leung spent his life portraying heroes who defeated invaders, only to fall in reality to what the author calls the butcher’s knife of his “own side.”

The issue Leung championed:

Following two recent infant death cases that have rocked China, the Ningbo “Xiao Luoxi” case and the 22-day-old baby at Xiangya Second Hospital in Changsha, another tragedy has now emerged from the country’s Heilongjiang Province.

A 74-day-old baby girl died after being hospitalized for just four days due to nasal congestion at Mudanjiang Women and Children’s Hospital. The child’s mother alleges that the hospital altered nursing records more than 1,900 times and emergency treatment records over 60 times.
...
The mother further claimed that many of these changes were made more than a week after her daughter died, and that some consultation records contained signatures from doctors who never appeared.
...
“The doctors claimed the surgery was successful and tricked us into signing documents, but the incision between her ribs wasn’t even stitched. She bled to death.”
“This isn’t a medical accident. This is murder—and a group murder. The entire Ningbo Women and Children’s Hospital committed murder.”

Her posts were repeatedly scrubbed and deleted from social media.

Leung has achieved the only immortality that matters, namely becoming his own pop culture archetype:

I too have noticed a difference in quality, feel, and visuals in movies from the 1990s and the ones made today. Relevant videos:







Often I'll go on Letterboxd and find a hidden gem from the 1990s, and feel genuinely confused as to why there are so many amazing movies from that era that are outside of popular memory.



Today's Hollywood is so detached from heartfelt romance that they could never make a film like this.