Mister Putin cannot be trusted

'Mister Putin let me down', that's what I've been telling myself currently because, the way the recent pandemic is being flawlessly managed by my government leaves no room for criticism, let alone trying to contribute to some disappeared community, and I have to do something with my days. Hence... am I ever so disappointed in Mister Putin, damn!
There really is nothing to say; everything is running as they should... democratic western resiliency at its best, liberalism, shining herald of... I do not know what, to tell the truth; but I won't be picky and I'll believe what I'm told, that all is well that might end well and also, I cannot but agree that it is definitely looking like that's where everything is headed, as they say. Nice and smooth; right on time, all the way.
So, Russia worries me. Not, mind you, that I care the least about the infamous dictator's might-be Crimean beach palace, the one and only in the world financed by corruption. Czars will be! But that ain't the point.
And pretenders. Aren't they all ungrateful blokes! Haven't you heard the heir apparent of Holy Russia, putting Lenin down for destroying a thousand year old State and starting the motherland on its way to its present situation, maybe not as good as it could, relatively to some better outcomes of history that, as is usually the case, never came to be as they should, which is unfortunate and not why I feel so sad.
Forgetfulness seems to be a must in many circumstances, although it might not always be the best method to get anywhere one really wants to go. Down with the Red Messiah, long live the new Saviour. Nothing wrong with that, says who? but what's holding him back from removing Oulianov's mummy from public display in its Red Square mausoleum?
Please Mr President, let Vladimir Ilitch finally rest, without him where would you be? Which is, yet again, not why I am so disheartened. I really don't care much about long-dead bodies; the Lenin who matters is not dead, maybe, but I am pretty sure his soul would welcome a final cremation, just for the sake of unfinished business, that M.Putin doesn't trust himself to terminate once and for all.
I suppose that the rebuilding of the russian state is Vladimir Vladimirovitch's avowed goal and that, like the rest of us, he might entertain some private desires which don't bother me at all if that's what Russians want, do they? Which is, on and on, for very little in my torment.

Then what's with me that makes for such mournful an outlook at current affairs out east, in the frozen wastes of Barbary? Guess what: it's all about the pandemic of course! Here comes Corona.
And the corona-cure, vaccines! How could I ever trust a therapy prepared in so superstitious a land where leaders live in fear of shadows behind which the red scare is waiting, ominous phenix hungry to catch fire.
It does sure feel like I got time aplenty to waste on such far-fetched squabble unlikely to hit me any time soon, who knows? for it matters nothing what I trust or distrust: the European Union has decided they'll have nothing to do with 'Sputnik' (as the russian vaccine is called), for reasons no doubt of the highest scientific order. Nothing's amiss amidst the clarity of bakchich-free lobbies in the lands of liberty-loving artificially intelligent zombies.
Didn't Mr Fauci duly criticize the safety of so foreign a pharmacopeia whose dividends will not fairly line truly righteous garments? Why would he?

The same goes obviously, as it should? in the home of the free, with untrustworthy vaccines made in China, not good enough for western organisms eager to work, how else? for free, as guinea pigs of the medical industry and ô so justly enraged by whatever has been happening to human rights in Tibet, Hong Kong and now Ali Baba's founder dire straits, poor Jack Ma's disappearance... that made me wonder whether a coup was being staged and once again I began to fret about the fate of... Xi Xinping, who else did you think?! I cherish dictators, I already said so, and I love first among all the ones trying to eradicate poverty from their dominion.
Which is why I am also, as a westerner with time on his hands, undisguisedly infuriated by my european union of moralizing hypocrits... taking their time to rule on Hong Kong's alleged predicament, but ô so busy when it comes to people's rights at home. I guess my eyes don't slant at the right angle, and my faith's unworthy of whatever divine strategy a bunch of geniuses has devised to deprive me of its exercise by virtue of the, as far as my slanted mind can see, infamous european charter of fundamental rights and a dozen other sacred texts ritualizing the human rights smokescreen, basically meant to amuse the gallery from such a moral highground... while a different slope brought me wherever I couldn't less care about the fate of some feudal theocracy so geotragically situated up in the headwaters of the Yangzi.
And, when hearing from all over about the evil Chinese Empire assaulting the remnants of dear British-born liberty in East-Asia, what I really think is 'Screw the US-supported Chinese Macronists who want to go BoJo'. I have no sympathy available for the kind of society they're marching for.
I wish I knew China or History, above my current grade, but I have first-hand knowledge of the western world, an in-depth intimacy going back seven decades into its glittering rot, on both sides of some ocean, and this is precisely why I'll repeat 'Screw Hong Kong human rights protesters!' their bible is that it's perfectly normal that I've got no right. Why should they?
As for the camps... I've even read that 'Uyghurs in Xinjiang are subject to forced sterilization campaigns aimed at eradicating their ethnicity', from reliable sources vetted by demanding professionnals of truth beyond reasonable doubt. Says some german missionary, probably of the 'Kill a Commie for Christ' variety.
Interesting though, 'sterilization campaigns'... kinda like what the Peace Corps used to do in third world countries after WW2... kinda like what the US government practiced on its own colored people... or against women who didn't meet the high moral standards of new England Puritans... or disseminated worldwide on an industrial scale through the Medical Industry (distilben, thalidomide and so many more) unashamedly extracting dollars from suffering and death, from torture and murder! Somewhat the same as what has been actually happening here, in the most beautiful country on earth, that journalists enthusiastically fail to see. 'Où ça?'
It's difficult to feel sorry for people one doesn't know and whose plight is being reported by others, all too well-known, who might even be sincere but for believing mostly lies. Why should I care what's happening so many miles away? Do they care for me over there? No they don't. Why should they? They might even believe that lambda me belongs to a privileged part of the planet who doesn't care about them, with very few self-righteous exceptions whose inspired informations are picked up and spread as widely as mainstream wisdom should be. Suspicious, said he?
There are people everywhere victims of bureaucrats but I don't care much for monks or by-the-book-missionaries most of whom wear no beards but a briefcase. And I don't give a damn about the pro-american propaganda of evangelical ayatollahs.
Did I ever read that the game never ends; is it likely that the Silk road is no battleground? Our latest Uncle Sam of the End Times, Mr Trumpeo said it's a no-no, night'n day worming their way, the globalized search for spice went sour... there is an odour. I see no leaks. I know no spy. Of no oil have I heard that will make me rich. Yet I seem to catch a smell somehow.
Therefore I am sorry about the camps were they to exist in Central Asia and elsewhere, such as France where I gather they call them 'Pôle Emploi', and just as sorry about the Penal Industrial Complex in the USA, while worrying even more that it's been crossing the Atlantic for a long time, eastbound... to make me safe from my lowly instincts and debased morals of which I can't be judge to the same extent as the smart ladies and fine gentlemen of the upmarket social clubs in Manhattan.

My passport being French it goes without saying that I know everything, and a little more, about gastronomy, which is why I owe it to 'la touche du chef' to mention very lightly, finishing stroke, that China and Russia (Eastern dictatorships, so exotic!) are the sole allies of regional freedoms against the soaring ambitions of universal mastery by the bunch of nutcases around Washington and throughout the fifty states; the rest of the West waiting for their masters to whistle.
Not all Westerners fear China. I for one fear a lot more the American Archipelago and revel in the belief, not only that the Middle Kingdom doesn't have to prove it is the New Rome, but foremost, that without looking ridiculous, Xi Xinping can carry a shovel!

globish

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Absurde!

S'il n'est plus à prouver que nos aïeux n'étaient pas aussi uniformément Gaulois que le voulait certaine habitude de pensée, il serait temps quand même que l'on reconnaisse que les ancêtres de nos actuels maîtres étaient Francs, venus d'outre-Rhin, salauds d'immigrants. Francs, complètement. Ce que l'on observe sans peine chez leurs descendants qui se font appeler "Nos élus" par les électeurs, "vos représentants" par les journalistes et "leurs" parlementaires par les étrangers. Nos, Vos, Leurs par tout le monde en somme!"