Thursday, August 14, 2008

talk to the hand

These constant daily pronouncements of outrage -- followed, of course, by strongly worded "Russia must..." directives -- from McCain and Bush and Cheney and whoever else, seem to be, shockingly, falling on deaf ears in Moscow. As these guys note:
Outside of blogs, editorial pages, non-binding diplomatic responses, and other release valves for hot gas, I’m not sure any likely objection to Russian behavior amounts to anything. Nobody can force a country with 12,000 nuclear warheads to ignore what it feels are its vital interests, not even a country with 8,000 nuclear warheads. I have no doubt that there are very well-considered legal and moral arguments about how Russia has done a terrible thing, and I’m sure the World Police and International Relations Jesus will be spurred into action by their eloquence and power. Similarly, I’m sure Russia doesn’t give a fuck, and Russia has the under-appreciated advantage of actually existing.
And in a couple of separate posts, Monsieur IOZ sizes up Vlad The (New) Impaler:
Bush is off playing fanboy at the Olympics. Cheney and McCain are left struggling mightily to raise a couple of hard-ons, AKA stuck with their dicks in their hands. Obama is, as always, ready to expostulate in the tongues of angels and honeybees. Meanwhile Bad Vlad is in his shirtsleeves commanding the invasion from the front lines, judo-chopping enemies left and right, basking in the glory of national re-ascendence.
Meanwhile, are people really that confused about Putin? Is he really such a mystery? I mean, dude's a Russian. He's practically a fucking archetype. Civility stretched like thin skin over old barbarism. Iciness giving way to biting humor. Biting humor giving way to violence. Fatalism mashed up with unpredictability. The guy could've wandered straight out of a 19th-century novel, and yet everyone remains befuddled. Hey, America, there're these things called books . . .

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