War of the Worlds: Wuxia Dragon Legend

The year is 1993. The world has not yet seen the rise of the Dragon, a serpentine force of manipulation that whispers through the shadows of global power. But the seeds of its influence are being sown. The Dragon seeks to exploit the cracks in the world’s order, to disrupt the harmonious flow of civilizations and to reshape the world into its image, one where strength, dominance, and control reign supreme.

The Dragon’s first move is audacious. It chooses the arena of combat, a realm where the clash of wills, the exhibition of skill, and the thirst for victory are primal forces. The Dragon enters the scene with a seemingly innocuous spectacle – the Ultimate Fighting Championship (UFC). The marketing is simple: “War of the Worlds”, a no-holds-barred tournament to determine the ultimate fighting style.

But beneath the surface, the Dragon’s intentions are far more insidious. The Dragon sees the UFC as a Trojan Horse, a gateway to sow discord and weaken its enemies. It understands the power of nationalism and the fierce pride that civilizations hold for their martial traditions.

The Dragon’s master puppeteer is a cunning figure, a “Thinking Head” who weaves a web of influence through a combination of martial arts, politics, and theosophical ideology. This is Esper Ukhtomskii, a Russian aristocrat who had already proven his skill in manipulating the threads of global power, whispering the myths of the “White Tsar” to stir ambitions of Russian dominion over Asia.

Ukhtomskii’s legacy is long and dark. He had been a close confidant of Tsar Nicholas II, sharing a fascination with the East and its mystical traditions. His vision of Russian supremacy was rooted in a blend of Aryanism, Buddhism, and a conviction that Russia was destined to rule over a vast, unified Asia.

The Dragon’s playbook is ancient, echoing the strategies of a bygone era, a time when the world’s order was defined by the clash of empires and the struggle for dominance. In the late 19th century, the Boxer Rebellion in China became a testing ground for the Dragon’s strategies. The Boxers, a group of martial arts practitioners fueled by nationalist fervor, turned their anger against Western colonialism and missionary activities.

The Dragon, through Ukhtomskii and his network of influence, saw an opportunity. Ukhtomskii, who was also a proponent of the “Plum Blossom Mantis” Kung Fu style, had cultivated the idea of Chinese martial arts supremacy over other foreign fighting techniques. The Dragon’s whispers fueled this belief, weaving tales of a mythical “King of the Mantis Boxing” who had defeated Russian champions in Siberia, further solidifying the mythical dimension of the rebellion.

The rebellion proved to be a disastrous failure for the Boxers, but the Dragon learned a valuable lesson: to control the flow of events, it must exploit the natural pride and nationalism of a people. To do this, it must manipulate their cultural identity and reframe the narrative of conflict.

Enter the UFC.

The Dragon understands the appeal of “no rules.” It sees the UFC as a tool to undermine the very fabric of civilization. Its lack of structure and its emphasis on violence challenge the ideals of order, tradition, and respect.

The Dragon, through its agents, strategically cultivates the UFC, seeding the sport with a sense of chaos and a celebration of raw aggression. The Dragon, knowing the weakness of its enemies, understands that the “civilized world” will be outraged, prompting the Dragon’s allies to play the role of outraged defenders of morality.

This is where John McCain comes in. He saw the UFC as a barbaric spectacle, a “human cockfight” that corrupted the very spirit of competition. He hated what he saw as a perverse glorification of violence and a rejection of all civilized norms. He was right in his understanding of the danger, but wrong in his analysis of the Dragon’s intentions. McCain was simply a pawn in the Dragon’s game, a force of moral outrage used to further the Dragon’s goals.

The Dragon’s use of “Judo Diplomacy” is more subtle than a direct attack. It uses the UFC as a tool to sow discord and to undermine its enemies from within. The Dragon’s agents promote the UFC as a vehicle for nationalist expression, capitalizing on the proud traditions of martial arts and combat. The Dragon understands that these traditions are deeply intertwined with national identities and cultural pride.

But the Dragon’s aim is not to simply promote nationalism. It wants to weaponize these traditions, to transform them into a force that will divide and conquer. It uses the UFC as a means to spread its own ideology, one that celebrates power, violence, and the ruthless pursuit of victory at any cost.

This is where the influence of Eisenstein and Milius comes into play. The Dragon understands the power of cinema and its ability to shape the world’s imagination. Eisenstein, with his masterpiece “Alexander Nevsky,” depicted the clash between Russia and the Teutonic Knights, using the film as a tool to foster Russian national pride and to validate the Russian struggle against its enemies.

The Dragon, much like Eisenstein, sees the UFC as a platform for the projection of its own narrative. Its influence is evident in the work of John Milius, a screenwriter known for his politically charged action films, who was deeply influenced by Eisenstein and modeled the barbarians who killed Conan’s family on Eisenstein’s portrayal of the Teutonic Knights. As one of the architects of the UFC, John Milius created “The Octagon” based on the pit in which Conan fights in “Conan the Barbarian”.

The Dragon’s presence is evident in the gladiatorial spectacle of Conan, the subversive political subtext of “Red Dawn”, and the nihilistic violence of “Apocalypse Now.” Milius’ gladiatorial imagery, his embrace of violence, and his celebration of primal forces all contribute to the Dragon’s insidious narrative. Importantly, his stoking of violence and tension between the USA and Russia in his Red Dawn movie highlights the insidious way he serves the Dragon agenda while being ostensibly opposed to it.

The Dragon’s strategy is both ancient and modern, echoing the mythology of the Chinese “Wuxia Pian” genre. These tales of knight-errants, of chivalric battles, and of the struggle between good and evil resonate deeply with Chinese culture. They reflect a sense of national pride, a longing for heroes who can restore order and vanquish their enemies.

The Dragon uses the Wuxia genre as a template to build its own mythology. It understands the power of storytelling and its ability to influence the hearts and minds of a people. It sees the UFC as a modern-day “Wuxia Pian”, a spectacle that draws upon the same themes of heroism, conflict, and the quest for victory.

The Dragon’s influence extends beyond the UFC. It has a long history of manipulating nationalistic sentiments, of dividing communities and nations against each other. Its goal is to sow chaos, to exploit vulnerabilities, and to maintain a perpetual state of conflict.
The Dragon’s game is not for the faint of heart. It is a game that embraces violence, deceit, and the manipulation of human emotions. It is a game where the rules are constantly changing, where the lines between good and evil are blurred, and where the stakes are always high.

This is a Wuxia story for the modern age, a tale of heroism, betrayal, and the struggle for freedom. The Dragon’s influence is pervasive, and the battle for the world’s soul is only just beginning. We fight with the hexagon. We do not fight in an octagon.