Russia imports North America’s worst people…or tries to

Is Czar Vladimir the Terrible getting desperate for warm bodies to boost his failing, fascist-imperialist war on Ukraine? It would appear so. He’s actively trying to recruit some of the worst people in the US:

Yeah. He tried to bring in Scott Ritter. SCOTT FUCKING RITTER, the convicted sex offender, who tried to solicit sex from what he thought was an under-age girl. Never mind that the real thing would never talk to a guy his age (source: was once a teenage girl myself, and any guy outside of high school was ancient to us). Nope, he really thought he was going to score a 15-year-old! And that it totally wasn’t a police decoy chatting him up.

And just think, this is what passes (wayyyyy too often) for “intelligence” in the US. The military-spook-industrial complex is rife with these kinds of guys.

But just in case you thought this was an isolated incident, or that Russia was only trying to capture a former US agent to pump him for whatever info they thought they could get this late in the game, or score propaganda points by painting themselves as the world’s one true bastion of freedom, or whatever cockamamie shit Pooty-poot thinks will fly…remember these fuckleheads from my home and native land?

The Feenstra family, led by Arend and Anneesa, relocated to the country seeking refuge under its stringent anti-LGBTQ laws, but the reality of life in Russia has proven to be a stark disappointment.

The family’s disillusionment began when their bank accounts were suddenly frozen upon their arrival, the funds from the sale of their Canadian farm deemed “suspicious” by the Russian banking system. This move left them stranded without resources in a nation where they found themselves linguistically isolated, unable to speak Russian or find English-speaking assistance. Anneesa Feenstra’s subsequent outburst in a YouTube video expressed her exasperation: “I’m ready to jump on a plane and get out of here. We’ve hit the first snag where you have to engage logic in this country, and it’s very, very frustrating.”

Despite the initial setback and the stark cultural and language barriers, the family has since stated that their funds have been unfrozen and they intend to remain in Russia “for the long haul.” Arend Feenstra had earlier expressed in a press conference the motivations behind their move, citing “a lot of left-wing ideology, LGBTQ, trans, just a lot of things that we don’t agree with they teach there now” as the impetus for seeking a new life in a country he believed would protect his family from such influences.

Pepperidge Farm remembers.

I figured something was up when Russia was promising “freedom villages” (or some such BS) to far-right foreigners looking to escape the oppressive LGBT-friendly policies of the west. Now I know: They’re actively looking for real, live GROOMERS. The kind who are so hellbent on having things their own way that real, live kids — either their own, or those of the “western dissidents” they’re trying to woo — will ultimately suffer for it.

I’m really hoping the Mad Czar meets a Ceausescu-style demise, but I’m not holding my breath.

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Posted in Corruptos, Crapagandarati, Fascism Without Swastikas, Isn't It Ironic?, Isn't That Illegal?, Spooks, Teh Russkies, The Hardcore Stupid, The United States of Amnesia, Ukraine, Ikraine, WeAllKraine | Comments Off on Russia imports North America’s worst people…or tries to

Conspiracy wanks take advantage of an accident…

…or, it’s a day ending in -day, and the most gormless buffoons in the US of Amnesia are just at it again, as usual:

Yeah, that’s right. Not even 24 hours after the container ship Dali hit the Francis Scott Key Bridge in Baltimore, MD, a bunch of quacking morons decided to make wank-bank off it by insisting it was a terrorist conspiracy somehow caused by “DEI”. When, in fact, it was most likely due to mechanical and/or electrical failure on board the vessel, as you can clearly see here:

When you see the lights go dark on the ship, that right there is a terrible sign. The loss of electrical power means not only problems with visibility in the dead of night, but also that the ship lost power to its forward thrusters, which would have helped to keep it centered and on course in its channel, i.e. not hit the bridge. The black smoke from the funnel is also a bad sign; it speaks of engine failure, possibly even a fire on board.

Conspicuously absent, however, are any signs of a bomb going off. Or anything else that smacks of terrorism.

What DID happen, however, was a mayday call which resulted in police diverting traffic away from the bridge, to minimize the number of cars that might fall into the water, and consequently, the number of lives lost. Not the sort of thing you’d expect in a terrorist incident, where the objective is to cause as much harm — and fear — as possible. And certainly nothing to do with any kind of “DEI” hiring practices, which the right is currently squawking its collective guts out over…at least until the next shiny bit of nonsense comes along.

But then again, I’d never expect any of those bozos to traffic in anything remotely resembling an inconvenient fact.

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Posted in Crapagandarati, Fascism WITH Swastikas, Fascism Without Swastikas, Grifters, Isn't That Racist?, Kooks, Sick Frickin' Bastards, The Hardcore Stupid, The United States of Amnesia | Comments Off on Conspiracy wanks take advantage of an accident…

LET THEM FIGHT: Basement pisser sues Malaysian fascist and bogus news outlet for libel

Hey y’all, you might want to start buying stock in Orville Redenbacher again. Why? Oh, no particular reason…

…okay, maybe ONE good reason:

Yeah, that’s right, bitchez. This is happening. Not just two, but THREE of the worst entities in right-wing “media” are gonna be duking it out to see who gets to be king of the neofascist dunghill.

At the apex of this Bermuda Triangle of fashy awfulness, we have a guy named Jeremy Hambly, who runs a YouTube channel called The Quartering, where he drones on ad nauseam about videogames, women who don’t even know he exists, and other assorted hateful shit, when he’s not busy drunkenly petitioning Elon Musk over Freeze Peach, and running in terror of an actual journalist doing actual journalism. (That would be Lance, above, who has him dead to rights for suggesting on his now-deleted tech tip channel that anyone with child sex-abuse materials on their computer should scrub them from their hard drives before taking that machine to the shop, because the techies can and will look.)

Oh, and also, Jeremy is on record for drunkenly pissing in his basement when he lost a round and his wife was out getting pizza without him. Yes, really.

You may want to listen to that with headphones on to get the full tinkle.

Anyhow, this silly jizz-sock from the moldy side of YouTube is going up against a Malaysian fascist Twitter reply guy who recently found out that the whole world collectively hates his guts, and even the most ardent death-penalty opponents would most likely celebrate if the notoriously repressive government of Malaysia actually executed him for…some minor offence or other. Personally, I was only sad to find out that they hadn’t, YET. (Maybe they will? We can always hope.)

And also, Jeremy’s mad at Ezra Levant’s crapaganda outlet, because reasons.

So, while we wait for the fallout to finish falling out, help yourself to some popcorn. And savor that melted butter on your fingers, because it won’t be half as delicious as the irony.

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Posted in Crapagandarati, Fascism Without Swastikas, Isn't It Ironic?, Isn't That Illegal?, Karma 1, Dogma 0, Law-Law Land, Let Them Fight!, Men Who Just Don't Get It, Schadenfreude, Sick Frickin' Bastards, The United States of Amnesia | Comments Off on LET THEM FIGHT: Basement pisser sues Malaysian fascist and bogus news outlet for libel

A must-see confrontation

Unless you’ve been living under a lichen-covered rock in the woods, you’ve probably heard by now of Nex Benedict, the indigenous transgender high-schooler in Owasso, Oklahoma, who died of a brain injury on February 8 of this year, shortly after being beaten up in a high school bathroom by three girls. Nex, who used he/him and they/their pronouns, shouldn’t have had to go in there at all, since that bathroom didn’t correspond to his actual gender. But since he was designated as female at birth, by Oklahoma law he wasn’t allowed to use any other facilities but the girls’ room.

And apparently, the school’s meanest girls took violent exception to that.

Even though the school district supposedly had an anti-bullying policy, Nex had been bullied ever since he came out as trans. And his tormentors always got away with it, because Oklahoma state law was on their side, and the legal situation is getting worse by the day. Oklahoma is the state with the largest number of anti-LGBT+ bills currently tabled. It’s not hard to imagine how a situation like that might embolden a bully, or a clique of them.

So, on February 7, three bitches jumped Nex in the bathroom. A scuffle ensued. Nex’s head hit the floor at some point during the assault, and he blacked out. Despite his obvious injuries, the school did not call an ambulance for Nex; his mother had to drive him to hospital herself. He was also able to give a statement to the police in the hours following the incident, but the head injury he sustained in the bathroom proved fatal the following day.

Nex Benedict was just 16.

Nex’s death has spawned protests, but so far, no criminal charges have been laid. The killers are still at large, apparently still in school, and still protected by the hateful environment the school district has deemed to be acceptable. The local police, too, don’t seem to think the matter is worth arresting anyone over. Nobody, it seems, is willing to hold anyone accountable for the death of Nex Benedict.

Nex might still be alive if LGBT+ acceptance had been an actual thing in Oklafuckinghoma, where some of the world’s most repugnant Republicans hold sway, and where failed Brooklyn realtor and highly successful fascist hatemonger Chaya Raichik, a.k.a. “Libs of TikTok”, was hired by the state not so long ago as some kind of advisor to their public library system.

Chaya Raichik is a professional stochastic terrorist, whose only real talent in life is to stir up murderous hate against anyone whom she deems to be a “groomer” of children, particularly if they’re teaching school or in any public setting where children might also be present. She lives for attention, and likes to turn a blast of raw sewage on anyone who is politically and socially progressive, or who dares to be honest and vulnerable about their LGBT+ life. Her shit-disturbing has even led to bomb threats at children’s hospitals. She’s uniquely unqualified to advise anyone on anything, let alone a state’s public libraries on what media its children should be allowed to peruse. Yet there she is, drawing a fat paycheque for doing nothing except what she’s been doing all along…i.e., stirring up hate and generally poisoning the atmosphere every time she farts out a tweet.

Well, one local man has had enough of her and the fascistic flunkies who hired her. He has taken a stand, and his confrontation with the elected officials (and by extension, their unelected “advisor”) is a thing of beauty to behold:

Ahhh. Isn’t that satisfying?

I don’t yet know what difference it’s going to make in the grand scheme of things, or to the Nex case in particular, but let’s hope that Sean’s speech here is the beginning of the end for anti-queer fascism in Oklahoma.

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Posted in Bullies, Crapagandarati, Fascism Without Swastikas, Heroes for Today, Human Rights FAIL, If You REALLY Care, Isn't That Illegal?, Isn't That Terrorism?, Law-Law Land, Not So Compassionate Conservatism, Teh Ghey, Teh Injunz, The Bold and the Badass, The Hardcore Stupid, The Trans, The United States of Amnesia | Comments Off on A must-see confrontation

Bowtie Boy gets Russia hysterically wrong

So. I guess you must have heard of a certain “journalist” from the US of Amnesia, who recently decided to show all his countrymen how their “leftist” (really, just very lukewarmly liberal) values have ensured the “fall of Western Civilization”, whatever THAT may be. And that to illustrate his point, he went all the way to Russia, to fawn over Pooty-Poot, lick his boots to a high shine, and just generally humiliate himself by demonstrating how little he knows about the world and how it works.

Anyhow, Russian YouTubers have been having a lot of fun at said “journalist’s” expense, and here’s one of them, doing just that:

Right off the bat, I can see (with my admittedly limited ability to read Russian) that the shopping mall our Bowtie Boy visits is called “Gagarin’s”. Yuri Gagarin was a Soviet-era cosmonaut, the first person ever to orbit the Earth, and also a very committed communist. It’s therefore highly ironic that his name (and a stylized logo glorifying his pioneering space flight) are being used to adorn an oligarch-owned castle of capitalism.

So, Floppy Forelock goes through this goofy-ass mall on his trip to the supermarket, oohing and ahhing over the escalators like he’s never been on one. Maybe he really hasn’t? We learn that he has no idea that coin-lock shopping carts are a thing. (They are, just about everywhere there are supermarkets. Here in Canada, they cost a loonie to unlock, which translates to roughly the ten rubles their Russian cousins take. I often find them loonieless and unlocked, however, and like to leave them that way for the next customer whenever I do.)

And thanks to our narrator, we also learn something Tucky’s not telling us: it isn’t even Russian-owned. It’s a French chain, Auchan (russified, here, to “Ashan”), which may explain why they have all that good-smelling bread that Tuckyducks jizzes his pants over while backhandedly dissing the “low-carb lifestyle”. Yes, Russia has bread, and not just the French kind. It’s a big friggin’ country, and rich in farmland, although the locals seem to be not quite as good at working it as their neighbors in Ukraine, the famous “breadbasket of Europe”. (Which may explain why they want to annex all that sweet, sweet, well-cultivated Ukrainian soil.)

(And all that lovely Crimean wine, too.)

If the insufferable silver-spoon scion really wonders why his ten-ruble shopping cart full of Russian groceries cost so little, it’s because he picked up much of it in the No Name section of the store. Which, apparently, still has its prices (and probably also its quality) stuck in the same dull end of the Soviet era that Tucky took the trouble to slam at the outset. The one thing you can say about the Auchan chain and its Russian subsidiary is hey, at least they haven’t discovered the Galen Weston trick of charging extortionate prices for store-brand goods, and then having the Orwellian audacity to pass it off as a bargain!

So, how DID all those foreign brands supposedly pulling out of Russia somehow still end up just as much for sale in Russia as ever? Well, for that, we can blame good ol’ globalized capitalism. Turns out, there are plenty of foreign companies who will still do business with Russia. And neighboring lands, such as the former Soviet republic of Kazakhstan, who have trade agreements with Russia still, are more than happy to act as middlemen and bring in whatever is wanted.

And the few western brands that did actually pull out of Russia? Well, Russian oligarchs, in their infinite ingenuity, just bought up their former assets, rebranded them to look vaguely familiar, and sold lesser-quality shit out of them, pretending it was just as good as what was being replaced, AND more “patriotic”, to boot. Which was good for more than a few cynical sneers on the part of the peasants — who, as in the days of the Czars, weren’t really fooled, but at least knew how to pretend to be, in order to save their necks from the imperial boot.

Fucker doesn’t seem to understand how basic pricing works, and how the cost of goods is scaled to what the average Russian can actually afford. In that, he’s just like all the capitalists over here (and remember, he comes from the same damn class as all of them) — he hasn’t got a clue what the average North American worker makes. Or how hard it is for them to make ends meet when they have bosses ripping them off on the one hand, stealing wages to pay for those record-high profits and CEO bonuses, and landlords ripping them off on the other, forcing them to pay the mortgages that said landlords can’t pay off themselves with good honest work. AND, on top of it all, we also have our grocery corporations, who each own pretty much their entire supply chain (hence, those store-brand products), and then have the audacity to claim pandemic-related “supply chain issues” are the reason their “low, low prices” are suddenly all jacked through the roof, and why their “price freezes” are just a dirty PR stunt.

I think Fucker knows damn well what’s up, and just isn’t saying because he’s not being paid to say that. It’s not as if he lacks for education, and it’s certainly not as if he lacks for internet access, newswires, or a big fat roster of experts in every field who could tell him whatever he and his audience might want to know. He’s very well-connected for such a stupid little man (and yes, I cackled when I saw Pooty-poot clown on him for failing to make it into the CIA, on account of his intellect being too low even for that legendarily dim-witted gang of spooks). Even he is not so dense as to be unaware of what’s really going to butter all that great-smelling bread he bought at Auchan/Ashan, or wherever he sends his servants to shop for him when he’s not performing regular suburban guyhood for the cameras.

Tucker Fucking Carlson is being paid to spread racism and fascism in the name of capitalism. That’s why he brings up “filth” (read: IMMIGRANTS AND REFUGEES) in his little soliloquy in that supermarket. He’s being paid to blame immigrants from Latin America, and refugees from Syria and Palestine (but he won’t mention Ukraine, because they’re white) for “taking” all the jobs that capitalism isn’t giving his skinfolk (let’s ignore the fact that the immigrants and refugees are taking the ones that nobody else wants) or bringing in exotic diseases (as though affluent white global travelers couldn’t spread COVID as fast as the poorest non-whites just looking for a home that won’t get bombed out from over top of them.) He’s a capitalist scion himself, being paid by richer capitalists to keep his peasant viewers in the dark about what’s really going on while they continue to rob us all quite literally blind.

And that’s why I’m joining the Russians in their good belly-laugh at his expense. It might not put the best-quality food on the collective table, but it should take some of the bitterness out of it, for at least a little while.

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Posted in Canadian Counterpunch, Corruptos, Crapagandarati, Economics for Dummies, Epidumbics, Fascism Without Swastikas, Filthy Stinking Rich, Grifters, Isn't It Ironic?, Isn't That Racist?, Morticia! You Spoke French!, Nepotism, Newspeak is Nospeak, Schadenfreude, Spooks, Teh Russkies, The 'Stans, The United States of Amnesia, Ukraine, Ikraine, WeAllKraine | Comments Off on Bowtie Boy gets Russia hysterically wrong

Quotable: Bill Lishman on the environment

“As individuals I have no doubt that we are the most intelligent beings on this planet. All living things strive to influence their environment to satisfy their needs, but all other species are directed by relatively limited and unvarying sets of instinctive behavioral patterns. Our ability to choose and change has given us remarkable survival powers. But it has also increased the risk that we will trigger changes we don’t fully understand. We are still missing the big picture, and while we are certainly intelligent, we are not yet globally wise. The human race is not yet house-broken, or should we say planet-broken? We are becoming aware that in our race for comfort, security, and affluence we have fouled our own nest.”

–Bill Lishman, Father Goose

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Posted in Canadian Counterpunch, Environmentally Ill, Quotable Notables | Comments Off on Quotable: Bill Lishman on the environment

Music for a Sunday: What’s that sound?

Everybody look what’s goin’ ’round…again:

This song may be older than I am, but it will never NOT be relevant. Especially in an age of incessant wars and school shootings.

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Posted in Angry Pacifist Speaks Her Mind, Canadian Counterpunch, Guns, Guns, Guns, Music for a Sunday | Comments Off on Music for a Sunday: What’s that sound?

Donnie’s tiny hands have blood on them (literally and figuratively)

Hey, hi, hello, and Happy New Year!

Take a good look at this, and tell me if you see what I see:

Aside from the creepy contrast between his pale palms and his orange face, Donnie Drumpf’s little baby hands have some angry red lesions on them. What could those mysterious bloody-red spots be?

James Carville asked around among some doctors he knows, and says they unanimously regard those lesions as a sign of secondary syphilis:

And yes, those do indeed look like gummas to my eyes, as well.

So, if Mr. Carville and the unnamed MDs he mentions are right, and ol’ Donnie has syphilis, it says a number of frankly awful things about him:

1. He doesn’t even have the basic courtesy to use condoms, despite all his talk of how trying to avoid STDs was as hard as going to war in Vietnam;
2. He doesn’t see his primary-care physician nearly as much as a man of his age and (obviously not good) condition should;
3. When he does see a doctor (whenever THAT may be), the doctor is not allowed to diagnose, let alone actually treat him, for any illnesses he may have (and be carrying, and spreading to God only knows who all else) — because Donnie, in his senile dictatorial vanity, won’t hear of it.

Given the widely affirmed fact that his hygiene and diet are terrible, as is his body odor, it seems entirely plausible that Donnie probably does have untreated secondary syphilis. Is it really shocking that a man who literally smells like ass would not only neglect to wipe and wash himself, but also neglect to seek treatment for a very curable bacterial infection?

If what I suspect proves true, and that his brain is deteriorating due to syphilitic paresis (the same illness that ended up killing Al Capone), then it explains a number of things, from Donnie’s grandiose and nonsensical daily rants, to the fact that Melania renegotiated her pre-nup and is seen with him as little as possible. Heck, it even explains why she’s so reluctant to hold his hand.

And why wouldn’t she be, considering where that hand has most likely been?

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Posted in Der Drumpf, Epidumbics, Farts, Fascism Without Swastikas, Filthy Stinking Rich, Mobsters, Sick Frickin' Bastards, The United States of Amnesia, The WTF? Files | Comments Off on Donnie’s tiny hands have blood on them (literally and figuratively)

It’s been a heckin’ year.

Hello again, friends and strangers.

Sorry I’ve been away so long, but there’s a good reason for that. This has been the Year From Hades for me.

I’ve had two driving tests (one flunked, one FINALLY passed), a biopsy, two surgeries, a bunch of household emergencies coming all on top of one another, and what feels suspiciously like a mental breakdown of sorts. It seems like I’ve had everything but cancer or COVID (and believe me, I’m NOT hoping to find out for reals what any of THAT is like, because I’ve had enough of sickness and convalescence this past year to last me another five at least.)

So, where have I been? Oh, where have I NOT?

I had to take my driving test twice, both times at a location an hour’s drive away. Which was, in addition to all else, tough to find because the street signs in the town where I took it were, shall we say, lacking. That screwed me up the first time I went to take it, because of course I got lost. No signs pointing me to the DriveTest centre, no GPS, no reliable roadmaps, no driving instructor to navigate and/or give me any last-minute coaching. It was just me in the car, scared shitless the whole way up the two-lane skinny, circling frantically through subdivisions and parking lots and leafing through the useless Google Maps printouts I’d laid on the passenger seat. By the time I arrived at the drive-test centre I was wayyyyy late, and really should have said no when they offered to test me anyway, because I was so flustered that I flunked. I also had to get an extension on my G2, which was a source of shame and chagrin for weeks afterward. I’d had such high ambitions for not only driving over an hour there (and over an hour back), but passing every element of the test with flying colors. Instead, I made all the dumbest rookie mistakes imaginable.

(BTW, none of this would have happened if the drive-test centre in my own town had still been open; thanks a buttload, Mike Fucking Harris, for yet another fine screwing you’ve imposed on this province. I hope you get extra-long COVID, and that even your for-profit nursing home chain doesn’t save your miserable, unnatural life, you motherfucking toadstool.)

Thankfully, I was ready the next time, and everything I needed to do clicked in my brain just days before. Sometimes you buckle under pressure; other times, you just buckle the fuck DOWN.

Meanwhile, something was up in my uterus. Around this time last year, I had what felt like a massive, horrendous period, only worse. It was the second one I’d had in as many years. The previous time, it went on for over a week, and I was miffed because I’d have to set my menopause clock back to zero, after a good year without a period. This time, it went on for over two whole weeks. Again, after a good whole year without a period.

So I made an appointment with my doctor, embarked on a battery of blood tests that showed me to be menopausal after all, and got my first shock of the year in January: My blood pressure was too high! So, I got a prescription for that. Yay! My first official Old Lady Medication.

And while I was thankful that the pills worked well and without side effects, the Two (Postmenopausal) Periods From Hades were still very much on my mind, so I raised the issue repeatedly with my regular physician until she referred me to a gynecologist. He ordered tests. First an ultrasound, which determined that my uterine lining was unusually thick, which may have been the cause of the bleeds. Then, an endometrial biopsy, which I feared and dreaded but needn’t have; it was far less crampy than even a normal period for me. That test was inconclusive, since not enough endometrial tissue was aspirated to test. So then I had to have a hysteroscopy/D&C, which was the first of the two operations. It turned out to be a polypectomy as well; the scope had shown a growth on the uterine wall. Culprit found and eliminated! Or so I thought.

Well, a biopsy showed the polyp to be precancerous. While I was absorbing the good news it wasn’t cancer just yet, the gyno sprang his next little surprise on me: I was going to need a total laparoscopic hysterectomy, with bilateral salpingo-oophorectomy. (Try saying THAT five times fast. Drunk or sober, you simply can’t.)

If I’d been younger and still hoping for kids, this treatment might not have been recommended, but due to my age and the fact that I never wanted kids anyway, that horse was long out of the barn. In fact, my tubes were tied 20 years ago, so there was also that. And in any case, I’m not a believer in feminine martyrdom or anything else that falls under the rubric of “let God decide it for you”. If I could forestall cancer by getting rid of some non-essential organs which had been a source of grief to me for four decades, then damn it, I was going to. So I signed the consent form and made hasty preparations for my recovery at home.

Three weeks later, near the end of September, I was in surgery. Again. And after a couple of hours, I was out — sans uterus, cervix, Fallopian tubes, and ovaries. Tired, but hopeful. The garden had already been dug over and tarped just days before I was due to go in. All I had to do now was recover, and hope that the coming winter wouldn’t be too snowy. So far, it hasn’t been. My recovery has been considerably less eventful than the weather.

As for the household emergencies, I’ll spare you the details. I’m not out of the woods there yet, anyway.

So. Here I am, looking at another year, this time with some things I didn’t have this time last year (a full-fledged driver’s licence, blood pressure medication) and minus some things I did have (all my reproductive organs, right down to my tired, retired ovaries). Probably the first order of business in January (which starts tomorrow!) will be to call my doctor and get checked out mentally, and ask for either antidepressants or estrogen, I’m really not sure which. Maybe one, maybe the other, maybe even both. Won’t that be fun? Yep, I’m SO looking forward to that.

Anyhow, happy New Year! Let’s hope it’s better than this one’s been. Even as low as I am, I’m still thankful to put it behind me at last.

It could all have been so much worse.

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Posted in Confessions of a Bad German, Writer Lady Sings the Blues | Comments Off on It’s been a heckin’ year.

What you need to know about Israel and Palestine right now

First off, MSNBC’s Ali Velshi gives an on-the-ground impression:

The situation is really stark, and awful for Palestinians in Gaza particularly (seeing as it’s already the world’s largest open-air prison, this is all too predictable).

The Rational National’s David Doel has compiled a great bunch of tweets and clips, including one from the late Michael Brooks that hasn’t aged a day:

Yanis Varoufakis’s takes are, as always, the best.

Meanwhile, at the Majority Report, Emma Vigeland is mincing NO words:

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Posted in Angry Pacifist Speaks Her Mind, Bullies, Crapagandarati, Do As I Say..., Fascism Without Swastikas, Gazing on Gaza, Human Rights FAIL, Isn't That Terrorism?, Israelly Uncool, Newspeak is Nospeak, Sick Frickin' Bastards, The United States of Amnesia, The War on Terra | Comments Off on What you need to know about Israel and Palestine right now