I’m on the front lines. Alone on a fortified island beach, steel-spiked anti-invasion barriers around me. An American face-to-face, facing off against totalitarian China. It’s been 10 months since I stood on the steps of the U.S. Capitol building, meeting with my House representative, a decorated war veteran, asking if the result-changing presidential election fraud—a well-documented disenfranchisement of American voters facilitated by the cover of China’s coronavirus—would be corrected in Congress the next day. It’s been 10 years since I was last here on Taiwan-governed Quemoy (also known as Kinmen), the previous time having ferried over from the Chinese city of Xiamen, its skyline now looming across the water only a few kilometers away. 20 years since I was a boy at the National Spelling Bee in Washington, DC, representing The Times of Northwest Indiana, a newspaper funded by the subscriptions of steelworkers like my father, as China was being …
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