Johnnie To's EXILED!
The Legend of Kung Fu Cult Cinema
The exact timeline of the following tale remains a mystery to this day, but rest assured, all of it is very excellently true.
The mountaintops bristled with cold during the beginning of man. Dinosaurs ruled the Earth and, contrary to what many scientists will tell you, creatures with human-like features began to coexist with them. From a visual standpoint, these man-things were most comparable to pygmies; their shrunken-heads supported by broad shoulders and a firm musculature that aided them during hunts.
But far atop the cold of the mountain range, a new creature was developing. In the recesses of a pterodactyl's cave, one egg stood five feet taller than the rest. This is a fairly significant disparity in size, as I'm sure you've already thought to yourself. During what would come to later Eastern civilizations to be known as the Year of the Cock, the egg in question began to oscillate wildly. The other pterodactyls gathered 'round the egg, tilting their heads in curiosity at the encroaching birth of their youngest sibling.
With an odd boom, a corner of the egg began to burst! Blood started spraying from a tiny crack like arterial juices, and the mother of all those present swooped in with a look of concern. SMASH! Another bit of the egg flew off and, before this could register as the foretelling of something dangerous, the entire egg exploded from within, dousing the room in crimson. The mother began to shriek some discordant alarm, but her babies could not step back in time.
What emerged from within the capsule was a fracas as yet unheard of. Covered in the oozing jam of birth was what we would recognize as a middle-aged Chinese man dressed from neck to knee in tattered robes that swayed hypnotically as he throttled a baby pterodactyl, punctuating his primal screams with punches to its face and under-developed ribs. The minute it went limp, the man threw it down on the ground as an example to the rest.
At that moment, a strange calm filled the room. The mother approached the man, still soaked in the blood of his tiny enemy, and nestled her beak against his chest, unafraid of any violent repercussions. The man's heavy panting slowed too, pacified by this sudden showing of affection. Though what the pterodactyl said at this crucial hour didn't come out in a language any of us would ever understand, the man heard it well.
"You are now my son, but you remain undisciplined. I must train you to kung fu fight," she said without opening her mouth, or even her eyes.
The man simply nodded.
Hundreds of years passed, maybe thousands. Millions. That's it, millions of years must have passed, because the war of humans had been ravaging the Earth for much more than a millennium. Though battles were excessive in number, there was a common connection between them all. It seemed, as impossible as this may be, that at every corner of the globe, one man would emerge from the smoke and rubble victorious.
Legend has it that the year 16XX saw our planet's bloodiest war, and that every plant seeded after its end is kept growing by the stains of the dead resting under the soil. There were two men left alive after this great battle, one of them badly wounded. Before everything turned black, he looked to the sky and saw his opponent emerging from the smoke and ashes. Blurry as it may have been, distorted pre-death images coalesced into one vision: it was the Chinese Kung Fu Master from Pterodactyl Mountain.
"Before you wither away, enemy of mine, I ask one thing." The man's voice bellowed throughout the valley. Rocks tumbled from their precipices like corn kernels popping.
"A-a-anything. I only plead that you end my suffering."
"Very well, but you must take my name to your grave. You must soak it in the dirt of your resting place, and spread it throughout the underworld; echo it so that it reverberates back into the minds of the unborn. This world is now cleansed of evil, and–"
"Powerful God of battle, I shall surely pass soon if your speech fails to end."
"Very well," The man said. "Let future generations know that I am everywhere, I will never pass on, and the wicked are never to rise again. I see everything, and I shall only award the most excellent of man's creations with my golden approval. Let them know that they may come to call me... GENERAL TAO!"
With that, the soldier passed on, his body sinking into the ground as if on a pneumatic lift. From the toes of General Tao sprang golden rivers, and the Earth was pollinated with life once again. Thanks to the General, we are all allowed to live our lives the way we do today, but remember... he is ever vigilant!
