Despite the continued belligerence of a Big Apple judge, the Big Guy is slated to occupy the Big House at 1600 Pennsylvania Ave. on January 20, 2025. Until then, Joe Biden (or whoever is in charge of Joe Biden), is apparently free to risk World War III by authorizing Volodymyr Zelensky to employ the U.S. long-range missile system (ATACMS) for strikes inside Russia. There was no formal threat of war by the lame-duck lamebrain; so just call it an informal one. But it’s interesting that Joe (or his proxies) decided last spring to covertly — that means secretly — supply Zelensky with ATACMS. At the time, National Security Advisor Jake Sullivan said, “Ukraine has committed to only use the weapons inside Ukraine, not in Russia.” Evidently, Zelensky kept his word until Joe (or Barak or Jake) gave him the green light to light up the Russian sky. For his part, Putin coolly announced his mutual defense treaty with N. Korea and now thousands of DPRK troops are on the ground. Apparently, Biden (or whoever pulls his chain) can claim he had a legitimate excuse to jump into the fray by sending ATACMS to Ukraine, since some NATO allies, including the Brits, are supplying their own versions of missile technology. Some military experts who favor the shipment and use of ATACMS insist it by no means is an escalation of the war — that ATACMS range of 300 miles can’t compare with Russia’s missile launching capability 1500 miles away in the Caspian Sea. You would argue that major wars always begin with some type of provocation. The Boston Tea Party, Pearl Harbor and Fort Sumter come to mind. The escalation argument will rage on and eventually some future novelist will write The Ukraine Protocol, recounting how and why millions of people died, complete with the requisite conspiracies and betrayals. One conspiracy theory is inevitable. Biden (or his handler) needed some way to take advantage of the crisis following the mortifying Democrat defeat at the polls. What better way than to authorize the use of U.S. ATACMS? What a cool way to poke Comrade Putin in the eye and beat the drums of war. What exquisite timing. Just like 2020, orchestrate a pandemic called Covid, and hand Trump a red-hot crisis to submarine his aggressive, domestic agenda. Surely, you don’t suggest Biden (or his overseer) would pour fuel on a fire simply to play politics. Could anyone be that treacherous? Take a minute. Ask yourself the question. In any event, millions of Americans speak casually about WWIII as if it’s a video game or a movie like the Dr. Strangelove spoof that suggests America’s elite class would live underground as the rest of humanity melts under a nuclear cloud. Of course, the manner of death is irrelevant, isn’t it? Ask the people of Ukraine and Russia. Their men are dying on both sides. Why? Because government leaders decided they must. There’s no other reason, Matilda. Nobody knows how many North Koreans troops will bite the dust, or whether Kim Jong Un gives a rat’s ass. Or how many women and children will suffer and perish. But you can count on this. It’s the little people who die. The nobodies. Neither Putin nor Zelensky nor Kim Jong Un are staring down the barrel of an AK47. Bet on it. Neither does Biden. Or Secretary of Defense Austin and Secretary of State Blinken. Or Members of Congress, or owners and shareholders of Raytheon, Boeing, Lockheed Martin and General Dynamics. In fact, the only big shot at risk of staring down the barrel of a gun is Donald Trump. He has the scar to prove it.
www.conventionofstates.com
Well stated.
Very true you got it right this time
Dick Toomey. The man. The myth. The legend! (At least in his own mind.)
Here’s a blast from your past – it’s been a quarter century since our last real conversation. SVE here. I’ve enjoyed the few times our paths have briefly crossed and catch myself hoping it happens again soon. Of course, “hope” is not a winning strategy.
So, inspired by a life-changing podcast that again brought you to mind, I tried calling. Resorted to this – in part because I can acknowledge you publicly.
Long story short, I can’t tell you the impact you’ve made on my life. In many ways. But at least monthly I’m reminded that you introduced me to the art of writing. Not saying I’m a master, but three days in a row someone’s asked me to pen or edit an important piece. (That stated, I still expect you’ll reply with a redlined version of this salute.)
I attribute any merit to you.
The contrast is clear. Dad taught me how to write. Within our investment banking context, I was proficient in legalese. I could “communicate.” But not “connect.”
25 years later, Dad is still a gifted thinker. But his most important bits flow through my pen. For example, he “wrote” an impactful book – but it was ramblings until I actually “wrote” it.
Dad and I would likely still be two peas in a pod, had I not enjoyed a decade under your tutelage. So, shame on me if I don’t once again express the dramatic impact you’ve made on my life. You are a classic, and I really appreciate the ways you invested in me!
Blessings to you!
p.s. And it’s obvious your sharp wit and quill have not dulled a bit!