No need to look for a happy picture today. We wake up to the new reality. I don't think a Talking Heads song or a line of protesters marching with "Stop Putin" signs is going to have much impact. Americans have gotten used to the idea of political protest, but what we see this morning is the thing we fear--power beyond our reckoning.
"But how can he do this?" some ask.
Most Americans, however, talk about the impact this will have on them. Higher oil prices, meaning higher everything prices. A falling stock market. Shortages.
"How can he do this?"
Your best defense is clear--you are going to need a lot of money. The rest of us will be living at 9th St. West. Oh. . . No Vacancy. Well, the lucky ones, I guess.
No one wants to go to war with Russia. European countries are against this attack and are willing to go along with sanctions, but only so far. They are not willing to put too much into the game. The Ukraines will have to bear the brunt of this one.
So they say.
The world is whack and you have no control. Nobody has to sell you food. Nobody has to give you medicine. That's a reality. We live by grace.
I wanted to be funny in today's post, but it's not possible. I'm not political scientist, so I don't even have insight into any of this. I do think, however, that the N.Y. Times put their little finger on a large part of the problem in the Ukraine in this morning's editorial. You'll have to read deep to find it, but yes, I think they almost put a share of the responsibility where it belongs--the west was just too cavalier about its expansion of NATO. Americans have been told over and over again that Russia is no longer a major player.
This morning, all I could think of was the American expansion westward and its justification of Manifest Destiny. All history is a story of power and conquest.
But I am getting over my head.
Oh, yes. . . one other thing--cyberattacks. They are coming. We'll see how much longer we have uninterrupted access to things like this. Or online banking, etc.
I'm like everyone else, though. What does this mean for me? Shit sure has fucked up my retirement. What happened to that dreamy world of fun movies?
Ah, well. We will always have Paris. Or. . . whatever.