In October 1976, three innocent-looking dictionaries were mailed to senior officials in Taiwan. Hidden inside each was a homemade bomb. Two exploded, and one of the targets, Taiwan Provincial Governor Hsieh Tung-min, was badly injured.

Hsieh (1908–2001) was a Taichung native who had left Japanese-ruled Taiwan as a teenager to study in China. He joined the KMT in 1930 and was one of the Taiwanese returnees who became important intermediaries in Taiwan's postwar years.

The bomber was Wang Sing-nan, born in Tainan in 1941. After moving to the United States for business, he became involved in radical pro-independence politics. Convinced that peaceful opposition to the KMT regime was futile, he hatched a drastic plan for action.

What happened to both men after the bombings is surprising, so make sure to follow this episode to the very end.

VIDEO version available on Spotify, Apple, and YouTube.

In October 1976, three innocent-looking dictionaries were mailed to senior officials in Taiwan. Hidden inside each was a homemade bomb. Two exploded, and one of the targets, Taiwan Provincial Governor Hsieh Tung-min, was badly injured.

Hsieh (1908–2001) was a Taichung native who had left Japanese-ruled Taiwan as a teenager to study in China. He joined the KMT in 1930 and was one of the Taiwanese returnees who became important intermediaries in Taiwan's postwar years.

The bomber was Wang Sing-nan, born in Tainan in 1941. After moving to the United States for business, he became involved in radical pro-independence politics. Convinced that peaceful opposition to the KMT regime was futile, he hatched a drastic plan for action.

What happened to both men after the bombings is surprising, so make sure to follow this episode to the very end.

AI images used are illustrations and most are not historically accurate.

In July 1683, more than 400 warships clashed around the Penghu Islands in one of the greatest naval battles in Chinese history. Qing admiral Shi Lang had come to destroy the last major stronghold of Ming loyalist resistance: the Zheng regime on Taiwan. The naval campaign would decide Taiwan’s fate.

More than three centuries later, the Battle of Penghu is politically explosive once again. A Chinese blockbuster about Shi Lang’s victory was due to open in late July 2026, complete with the message that “the unification of Taiwan is unstoppable.” Then, just before its release, the movie mysteriously disappeared from cinemas.

John and Eryk tell the story of the battle that brought Taiwan under Qing rule, and ask why Beijing got cold feet with their propaganda piece.

Note: this episode is also available as a slightly shorter audio only version (on Spotify, Apple and other podcast platforms) Oh, and apologies for the er… creative madness of Eryk’s movie trailer – blame it on the summer heat.

In July 1683, more than 400 warships clashed around the Penghu Islands in one of the greatest naval battles in Chinese history. Qing admiral Shi Lang had come to destroy the last major stronghold of Ming loyalist resistance: the Zheng regime on Taiwan. The naval campaign would decide Taiwan’s fate.

More than three centuries later, the Battle of Penghu is politically explosive once again. A Chinese blockbuster about Shi Lang’s victory was due to open in late July 2026, complete with the message that “the unification of Taiwan is unstoppable.” Then, just before its release, the movie mysteriously disappeared from cinemas.

John and Eryk tell the story of the battle that brought Taiwan under Qing rule, and ask why Beijing got cold feet with their propaganda piece.

Note: this episode is also available as a video (on Spotify and YouTube). Oh, and apologies for the er… creative madness of Eryk’s movie trailer – blame it on the summer heat.

Long before social media, Taiwan had an unlikely food influencer: Chiang Ching-kuo (CCK), son of President Chiang Kai-shek. During his frequent inspection tours around the island in the 1970s and 1980s (as premier and later president), CCK cultivated an everyman image by chatting with workers and farmers and stopping to sample ordinary local foods. Sometimes, a visit from CCK was enough to transform an obscure dish or shop into a national tourist attraction. Eryk and John hit the road to follow in his culinary footsteps: from taro ice in Dali, Taichung, to daikon radishes high in the forests of Taipingshan, and finally to Wanluan pork knuckles in Pingtung.

45 min video version also available.

NOTE: Shorter, audio only version also available

Long before social media, Taiwan had an unlikely food influencer: Chiang Ching-kuo (CCK), son of President Chiang Kai-shek. During his frequent inspection tours around the island in the 1970s and 1980s (as premier and later president), CCK cultivated an everyman image by chatting with workers and farmers and stopping to sample ordinary local foods. Sometimes, a visit from CCK was enough to transform an obscure dish or shop into a national tourist attraction. Eryk and John hit the road to follow in his culinary footsteps: from taro ice in Dali, Taichung, to daikon radishes high in the forests of Taipingshan, and finally to Wanluan pork knuckles in Pingtung.

In 1986, after more than six years behind bars, Chen Chu was released on parole. She immediately doubled down on Taiwan’s democratic struggle. In Part Two, we trace her rise from dissident to political heavyweight. We cover her role in founding the opposition Democratic Progressive Party (DPP), the fallout from the Kaohsiung MRT migrant-worker scandal that cost her her job as labor chief, and her razor-thin victory in the 2006 mayoral race. She would go on to shape Kaohsiung for more than a decade, but her administration was not without controversy, most notably over the devastating 2014 gas explosions.

Cover image shows Chen Chu at a final 2014 mayoral campaign rally in Fongshan, Kaohsiung. (By Eryk Michael Smith)

In 1960s rural Taiwan, crossing a river could be deadly. After children drowned on their way to school, a small group of charity workers in Chiayi decided to act. They had previously provided rice and coffins to the poor. But now they turned to building bridges in rural, often remote mountain areas. Nicknamed the “Ant Army,” they worked in human chains, carrying rocks and pouring concrete by hand. Their raw physical effort was supported by the expertise and guidance of engineer Ho Ming-teh (何明德1922–1998) who would be internationally recognized for his contribution. By the time of his death, Ho and the Chiayi Philanthropy Group had built more than 200 bridges.