#Frump Leader

[isawthismeme]

[witchofthesouls]

This was a weird crossover thought, but hey, it’s a rare pair:

Grandmama Frump has no idea how, what, when, and where the ancient grimoire had dumped her, nor the spellwork that pushed her into a metal body, but the entrails did say she will be on quite a transformative journey. Meets up with the DJD by intercepting on their List. Not her fault if the mechs were stupid enough to bother her and joins them after admiring their skills. Grandmama Frump and Vos would get along like fire on a gasoline-soaked body.

She can fully appreciate a being that can fully transform into a sniper rifle. Granny Frump prefers to go down and bloody close to the target, so she tries to convince him to get a bayonet attachment.

Nothing says romance than a personal stab, together.

Just as nothing says “I love you” so much to an Addams than causing chaos, mayhem, and murder with a partner, especially if they could literally use their partner. How intimate…

Vos and Grandmama would croon sweet nothings full of murderous intentions to each other. Unfortunately, they do all the time, especially during meals.

No one understands what the hell they’re saying since they’re speaking in the respective dead language of Primal Vernacular and Ancient French. Except for Tarn… and he’s dying from the horniness.

The leader of the DJD feels beyond uncomfortable, but Tarn can’t turn away when Granny climbs into Vos’ lap, face to face as she steadies herself with his shoulders. The romantic locked deep in his untouched spark practically swoons as Granny tenderly cradles Vos’ mask and simultaneously recoils from what Vos purrs back.

There are some things a mech is not meant to know. Please stop playing with the ruffles and seams of her armor.

Actually, everyone is dying from the horniness. They may not understand, but even the blind mech could feel that raw tension.

There’s many strange sounds in Vos' habsuite. It’s screaming. A lot of screaming. Not of terror. Sometimes agony, but it’s mixed with pleasure. With laughter. High and demented that leaves scratches over a brain module, like rusted nails shoved deep into a helm.

Once it stops, the door opens to dreamy Frump swaying to invisible music as she heads to the shower rack.

The way she moves is reminiscent to the artistic bodily freedom of the Golden Age music underground and the famed courtesans of the High Towers and Primal Palace: strangely sensual and oddly provocative in its fluid grace of free-form steps and twirls. The armor she uses doesn’t help, it sways to her movement.

Vos, in berth and completely enraptured, watches on, smoking a cygar.

Tarn and Kaon gives him hell for it since the ship has designated smoking areas and the communication officer hates the smell leaking to his hab.

Grandmama had commandeered the kitchen and refuses to let anyone else into it. Not even if it causes the fire alarms and toxicity sensors to blare. She has it well in hand, sonny! There are at least three cauldrons always on the flames from a sweet simmer to furiously frothing to the point the lid will become a deadly projectile. The smell can be absolutely delightful or completely atrocious -far, far worse than Tesarus not properly deep-cleaning his most inward blades.

Tarn has no idea if Granny Frump is trying to kill them by an obvious poisoning attempt since whatever she heaved over to the shared table is... ghastly vibrant with a sludge-like consistency. And possibly in its dying throes as she smacks the cauldron insides with a spiked ladle. And he’s absolutely not imagining that muted shriek-

Between Nickel’s medical programs, Tesarus’ ununtrium-coated tank, and Helex’s ability to heat his own internals to a deadly scorch to kill everything, they can take on whatever malice she wields.

Luckily, there’s the usual Energon dispenser in the mess hall, but Tarn can only watch in mute horror as everyone else eats it, even the Pet enjoys it.

Helex and Tesarus wolf down over half the cauldron with large doses of aluminum flakes and cobalt swirls. Kaon eventually switches to the dispenser, but only because the smell overrides the lovely taste. Vos eats his extra blended portion with a straw. Even Nickel is in on it: sipping on her bowl with a side of boron biscuits.

He is not the weird one. He is not-

[cribb4eva]

Trump ft. Beauty and the Beast au

A Retelling of

The Beauty and the Beast

AND THE WALL THAT BROUGHT THEM TOGETHER

featuring

·         Donald Frump as the majority stakeholder of BeautyTM

·         J Jenkins, better known as the Beast, a professional competitive eater

(HENCEFORTH REFERRED TO AS B&B)

[A/n - as I write this I hear the two loudly arguing about the moniker.

Beast: “I like it. It goes a long way to show how we truly united.”

Beauty: “Covfefe”]

--------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

Once upon a time there lived an immensely wealthy merchant in a lavish home the likes of which the world had never seen (and god willing would never see again). As the rich are prone to do when bored, he bred in his spare time. As the result, the monstrosity he called his home witnessed a flowering of horses, ducks and wailing human children, and Monsieur (because Frump was a fan of the French) Frump had to overcome the first hurdle of parenthood – the naming ceremony. We can safely assume he did not do very well, as one of his (many, many) children and (equally numerous) ducks ended up with the same name – a lovely, well rounded ‘Donald’. Pause now, and witness this wonder of the world, both Donalds have illustrious careers ahead of them- one immortalized on the silver screen along with his various animal friends, who he loved to take the mickey out of, and the other, human version immortalized thanks to the work of your very own writer of this tale.

We move now to the future, an older Donald the Human greets us, spewing pearls of wisdom ( à la the classic fairy-tale Toads and Diamonds, pardon my old fangled references) while Donald the Duck, sailor’s cap et all is sadly, dust in the wind. To make my point, let me grace you, dear reader, with some of his (earth shattering, epoch defining) words - "I will build a great, great wall on our southern border, and I will have Mexico pay for that wall. Mark my words." One could say he had delusions of grandiloquence.

Ah, but this Wall is to play a role in the tale, as all great dreams begin with a dreamer, to borrow from Madam Tubman, who will no doubt be distinctly displeased at my using said quote for said human. What one needs to remember then, is that the human Donald had grown up into his name, and now (very un-ironically) owned Beauty Corp.TM, the premier destination for exploiting societal expectations of beauty for women and turning a profit, and its subsidiary, Miss Whole-Goddamn-Universe, where Donald the human, whom we shall now refer to as Mr. Frump, would fulfil his yearly quota of ogling at women and generally making everyone uncomfortable. In a sentence, Mr. Frump owned BeautyTM, and if that bit of irony doesn’t make your day better, I’m afraid the dark side has won you over.

The wheel of time turns, kicks up the gravel on the road, and leaves dust in its wake. Circumstances change. For it just so happened that Frump the senior had to leave his monstrous home to bring down the economy of a small third world country, and this parting from his brood brought much sorrow. “What shall I bring for you” he cried, tears flowing down his cheeks thanks to dust allergies caused by the afore mentioned wheel of time. In a chorus of “drones!” “A small spaceship!” and “the Kohinoor!” young Donald’s “a wall” claimed the heart of his sire.

Thus Frump senior began his long and arduous journey to the third world country, his pain exacerbated by the fact that the airline did not offer first class passage. His return found his joy dulled, for while he had successfully managed to oust the leader, and scam them , the country still retained the rights over its own resources, and in his fatigue, he forget about the promises he had made to his children. Presently he remembered those promises and went about fulfilling them; a quick text to his friend Geoff Pesos of Amazing Inc. would take care of the easier demands. A wall would prove to be more daunting, and in his desperation he directed his goons to the first wall he saw and told them to take it apart and bring it to Donald.

Alas for Mr. Frump that the wall belonged to one J. JENKINS, COMPETITIVE EATER EXTRAORDINAIRE, with a social media presence to rival even that of the most venerated reality television stars. Now Jenkins was a simple bloke. He lived to eat and not the other way around. His online persona The Beast would have gotten along excellently with Monsieur Frump on any other day, given that both were paragons of Western gluttony.

However, as one might assume, Jenkins did not take kindly to thugs tearing down a wall of his house (who would have thought?). And as is the norm, Jenkins threatened an expose, which as we know, is universally accepted as the Truth, which Mr. Frump, slayer of third world countries could not risk at present. As diamond cuts diamond, so does social media prove to be a wonderful defence against Mr. Frump’s team of lawyers( who took great pride in being called sharks and endeavoured to live up to the name by looking more and more like the watery predators). I have said before, and I will say again, nothing beats the threat of public embarrassment, as Frump Senior would find out unless he agreed to bring Donald the human to the abode of one J. Jenkins and apologise. Jenkins was a traditionalist and believed in punishing the son for the sins of the father.

For the purpose of this tale, let us assume that both Frumps, junior and senior are unable to pay off the wily Jenkins and scowling, go out to meet him- “But daddy, it's really cold outside, they are calling it a major freeze, weeks ahead of normal. Man, we could use a big fat dose of global warming!”

The Beast, as Jenkins was known, had grand plans for Mr. Frump junior, who was well known around the globe for his previously mentioned making-women-uncomfortable activities. The Beast also had a secret. His WeTube sponsors had threatened to withdraw, following his ‘I ate a bat for breakfast’ video which they believed would not be taken well since it had been a mere ten months after the outbreak of the MorBid 19 pandemic. He needed to pull something so amazingly outrageous, so steadfastly loony, and so horrifically absurd so as to make the ramifications of his previous video null and void. And along came Frump junior, funny how fate functions. Rarely had the world witnessed such serendipity; the solution dropped into the lap of a mortal with such ease.

Thus was born the idea of a video titled- ‘The Famous Mr. Frump Eats Healthy For A Week, Shocker I Know’. Cue the gasps of amazement, the astonishment of the netizens; for if there was a thing Mr. Frump was even better known for, it was his absolute detestation for anything green and fibrous. God forbid you utter the word healthy around him, while the N word (nutri****) had to be censored to avoid the inevitable hissy fits.

And so Jenkins convinced Frump junior to pay off his father’s debt by living with him for a week, to record the challenge (which would go on to be featured in WeTube’s yearly Rewind, and thus achieve digital stardom). Needless to say, Donald’s siblings were decidedly not pleased, for there are those in this world who envy a fellow human even a chance of dodgy WeTube fame.

Donald dithered, and as per usual, couldn’t make up his mind. In the end, he had to return to the Beast, for the Frump Empire was still very much open to the criticism of said WeTube star and animosity due to his demolished wall. Thus the Wall brought the owner of BeautyTM to the Beast, who had been languishing at the thought of having to make a living once his sponsors cut him off.

Cue dramatic reunion, a week of healthy eating that changed their lives, for the Beast repented his ways and decided that perhaps wasting food in a hungry world was in bad taste (pun intended), and the owner of BeautyTM realised that perhaps there was something to be said for actually focusing on what goes in the body rather than what is slapped on outside.

When you thing of their future, think of a viral WeTube video. Think of a new WeTube channel called B&B. Here we end our tale, and they lived (how long I cannot say, for I am no seer).

[unrighteousbooks]

Groundwork

The front door of the shop has been locked for weeks now. Imagine my surprise when I discovered that I was not alone.

I've known for years that there was a peculiar metal hatch in the basement floor. I had tried to open it once, but it seemed to have been locked from the other side, and I gave it no more thought. I assumed that it was some sort of access opening for one of the many old utility tunnels beneath the city.

This morning, I heard a loud banging from the basement, followed by a long, metallic screech: The sound of rusty hinges opening after decades of neglect.

With some hesitation, I made my way down the stairs. Sure enough, in the far corner of the basement, a man in a miner's helmet was sitting on the floor, with his legs dangling down into the open hatch. A red bandana was wrapped around his face, covering his mouth and nose, as if he were some sort of underground desperado.

He looked up and saw me, the light atop the helmet shining into my eyes. The first thing he said was: "Not Tibet, right?"

"No," I replied.

"Tadfield?"

I shook my head.

"Atlantis?"

"You're being quite foolish. This is Chicago."

"Really?" he said. He switched off the light. "Well, that's not what I expected. Hard to keep track down there. And the distances! They never make sense. Did you know that Nepal is only a five-minute walk from Piccadilly Circus?"

"I am quite certain that is not correct."

He shrugged. "If you take the right tunnel, it's true." He took the helmet off and set it down on the floor beside him. "Mind if I sit and rest for a few minutes? Lots of walking in this job. Hang on." He dropped down into the opening and emerged a moment later, holding a shovel which he laid across his lap. "Never want to be too far from my shovel," he added. "Anyway... tough job. Very tiring."

"And what exactly is your job?" I asked.

"Officially, I'm a digger. You can call me Digger Dave. Truthfully, I don't do much actual digging these days, but that's still what they call me. It's my job to follow the tunnels and map them. See what we can learn from the Tibetans."

"The Tibetans?"

He nodded. "They're the ones who built the tunnel system. Well, at least, that's what we think. Some people say they were made by the Atlanteans. People from Atlantis, that is. Seems ridiculous to me."

Yes, I thought, much more ridiculous than the idea that it was the Tibetans who made the tunnel which goes from my bookstore to Piccadilly Circus and then to Nepal.

When I said nothing, he continued. "It's a lot of work, but it beats the hell out of my last job."

"And what was your last job?" I asked.

He looked from side to side, as if he were suddenly worried that we might not be alone. "Can you keep a secret?"

"Definitely."

His voice became a whisper. "I worked for the National Security Agency. I came up with code names."

"Code names?"

"Yeah," he said. "For government operations. Like 'Desert Storm,' or 'Rolling Thunder,' or 'Operation Urgent Fury.' I wasn't the one who came up with those, but you get the idea. My job was to name secret projects. It was so frustrating. I came up with some great names, but someone higher up -- I'm not going to say who -- someone higher wanted to use his own names for everything. Completely ignored the names we came up with, and used his own." He shook his head in irritation. "The real problem, in the grand scheme of things, was that he never took any advice from the intelligence services. He ignored all kinds of critical problems, and had his own bizarre ideas for operations he wanted us to work on. And the names he insisted on using added insult to injury. There was Operation Greatest Leader Ever. There was Operation Stable Genius. And Project Miracle-a-Lago, and Operation Believe Me Mine Is Huge, and Operation No One Has Ever Been Richer Than Me. And you know what else? What he really wanted to do was to use his own name. He wanted to slap his own name on absolutely everything. Obviously, for national security reasons, I can't tell you what his name was, but let's pretend it was Arnold Frump. It took weeks for his aides to get him to understand that if he used his own name, it really wasn't a code. Otherwise we would have had Operation Frump Hero, Operation Frump Goes Bigly, Operation High Stakes Frump..."

Digger Dave lifted the shovel and held it in front of him, staring at it in silence. When he spoke again, there was gratitude in his voice. "Thank heaven for this. This was always what got me through the tough times back at Third Street School, and it's what saves my sanity now. When the tunnel tracing job opened up, I put in for a transfer. Everybody knew I was well-qualified."

With that, he put his helmet back on. "I should probably get back to work. These tunnels aren't going to map themselves." As he descended into the opening, he looked at me one last time. "You know what's nice? Now I can make up code names for my own work. You can't predict where these tunnels lead, so at first I thought I'd call it Convoluted Matrix. Then I realized that what I'm doing isn't just about the tunnels. It's part of something larger. So I came up with a perfect name."

"And what is that?" I asked.

The wrinkles that appeared at the corners of his eyes told me that he was grinning behind the red bandana. "Operation Groundwork," he said. He disappeared into the tunnel and pulled the hatch closed behind him.

[theliberaltony]

via FiveThirtyEight

Bernie Sanders is a famous, successful loser.

When he announced his run for the Democratic nomination in April 2015, Sanders trailed Hillary Clinton in the polls by nearly 57 percentage points. By spring of 2016, some polls showed him within single digits. Sanders was no longer an obscure senatorial frump from Vermont — he was a bona fide political phenomenon whose primary success embodied the Democratic Party’s leftward drift.

But 2020 is not 2016. Sanders kicked-off his 2020 run early on Tuesday, and as he navigates his second presidential primary, he’ll need to prove he can build on his past success, not coast on his 2016 coalition.

Sanders enters the 2020 race not as an underdog but as a Democratic Socialist leader of the pack; an early Iowa poll showed him commanding 19 percent of the vote of likely caucusgoers, second only to former Vice President Joe Biden. Sanders comes to the race with the high name recognition that many candidates in the crowded field lack, and with a glossy pelt hanging off his political belt: the grassroots movement that propelled him to unexpected heights in 2016.

While many 2020 contenders will spend the early days of their campaigns conveying just what sort of candidate they would be and delicately trying to signal what kinds of voters they think they appeal to, Sanders is already a known quantity. In a recent YouGov poll, only 16 percent of respondents said they didn’t know what they thought of him, compared with 38 percent who said the same of Kamala Harris and 29 percent who didn’t know what to think of Elizabeth Warren. Engaged Democratic voters will know that Sanders’s brand is populist — free college, $15 minimum wage, “Medicare for all” — and polemical. The senator’s early charm in 2016 seemed to lie in his harangues against an unmitigated free-market system and the need for political revolution. In the age of President Trump, many Democrats might be looking for a pure-of-heart angry warrior figure in their candidate — someone with a distinct brand of politics that hasn’t been formed solely in reaction to the president. Sanders certainly is that.

We know who was attracted to that kind of candidate in the last Democratic primary. In 2016, Sanders outperformed Clinton with young voters and voters who live in more rural places. He won primaries in states with sizable white populations like Michigan and Wisconsin — states that Clinton went on to lose in the general election to Trump. In the months and years following Clinton’s loss to Trump, Democrats have debated ways to win back this disillusioned group. Sanders could hold some appeal to those Obama-Trump voters given his primary performance in upper Midwest states and the fact that he did well with independents.

While Clinton won the 2016 primary by a substantial number of votes — more than 3 million — it’s safe to say the Democratic Party has gone through a bout of soul searching over the past couple of years. Voters who might have dismissed Sanders during the 2016 primary could well have come around to him in the interim. A Gallup survey found that 2016 was the first year in which Democrats felt more positively about socialism than they did about capitalism — Sanders’s message might well have seeped in. Another potential strength is his proven track record of attracting small-dollar donations. Sanders raised more than $100 million from donors giving less than $200 during the 2016 run, and in the 2020 campaign era, in which candidates are eschewing PAC money, that donor base is powerful.

Small donors gave big to Sanders

The five 2018 U.S. Senate candidates who raised the largest share of their donations from small donors as of Nov. 1, 2018

Candidate Party State Share of Contributions From Small Donors Bernie Sanders I Vermont 77%

–

Elizabeth Warren D Massachusetts 56

–

Corey Stewart R Virginia 50

–

Beto O’Rourke D Texas 46

–

Geoff Diehl R Massachusetts 45

–

Source: Federal Election Commission via Center for Responsive Politics

Sanders also may have a leg up in early primary states like Iowa and New Hampshire, where all-important local activists play an outsized role in building candidate momentum. Sanders knows them, and he won’t have to do as much as others to build up grassroots support.

But Sanders’s 2016 success could also be the makings of his greatest 2020 challenge. When he entered the race in 2015, it was in large part to push his progressive left ideas. Other politicians picked up on the fact that Democratic voters liked the big ideas that Sanders was selling, and now the 2020 field is packed with contenders who are campaigning on platforms similar to his 2016 campaign. Sanders’s 2017 “Medicare for all” bill became something of a litmus test for those senators considering a 2020 run — Kamala Harris, Cory Booker, Kirsten Gillibrand and Elizabeth Warren all signed on as co-sponsors. Even Clinton acknowledged the appeal in her campaign memoir, “What Happened”: “I have a new appreciation for the galvanizing power of big, simple ideas. I still think my health care and college plans were more achievable than Bernie’s and that his were fraught with problems, but they were easier to explain and understand, and that counts for a lot.”

This means the progressive-left lane in 2020 is quite a bit more crowded than it was in 2016, which is a problem for Sanders, albeit a problem that stems from his own success. Warren is perhaps his most direct ideological competition — she’s been a critic of American capitalism for decades, though unlike Sanders, she still calls herself a capitalist and a Democrat. She also hired his 2016 Iowa caucus director — inside baseball to be sure, but it’s worth paying attention to the campaigns Democratic operatives choose to work for this early on.

Another potential complexifier for Sanders is that many Democrats appear to be prioritizing “electability” over ideology in 2020. A Monmouth University poll found that 56 percent of Democrats or Democratic-leaning independents wanted a candidate who will perform well against Trump, even if they disagree with that person on most issues. What electability actually means in this context is quite vague, but if it becomes a proxy for a centrist candidate palatable to swing voters, Sanders might be out of luck. Or, even if voters decide that “electable” means more left, Sanders could lose out to new faces trying to sell their pragmatic progressivism — Harris, Warren or potential candidate Beto O’Rourke. We might be wise not to discount voters’ affinity for these new, shiny candidates: 59 percent of respondents in a recent USA Today/Suffolk University poll said they would be interested in “someone entirely new” as their nominee. Forty-one percent of those polled said Sanders shouldn’t even run again.

Sanders also would need to work to improve his performance with black voters, a crucial demographic in the Democratic primary.

In 2016, Clinton and Sanders split the white vote, but she did better among black voters overall, though young black voters trended toward Sanders. 2020 will likely be a whole different ballgame when it comes to courting the black vote. The field has two top-tier contenders who are black — Harris and Booker — and Joe Biden could hold some appeal given that he served as vice president under Barack Obama.

And then there is the matter of allegations of sexual harassment and gendered pay inequity that have been leveled against the Sanders campaign itself. Women who worked for the candidate in 2016 said there was a lack of accountability on the campaign when it came to the harassment, and Sanders’s initial response to the reporting was that he had been unaware of the allegations. “I was little bit busy running around the country trying to make the case,” he said. “If I run, we will do better next time.” Sanders issued a more full-throated apology via Twitter days later, but the allegations have served to compound the impression that there were whiffs of sexism swirling around the Sanders campaign and its supporters. “Bernie bros,” as some male supporters of Sanders came to be called, were sometimes blamed for sexist online attacks on Clinton.

[thecrispykoala]

The Addams Family as PowerRangers.

Gomez is the BlackRanger.

Morticia is the BlackRanger cause Obvy.

Pugzly can be the BlackRanger.

Wednesday should be the BlackRanger but I think she’d be best as the BlackRanger.

UncleFester is 100% the BlackRanger.

Thing is the WhiteRanger.

Lurch will be the teams Mascot or what ever it’s called.

Granny Frump will be the at base TeamLeader till she gets kidnapped or whatever and Gomez becomes the official leader as the new BlackRanger.

in their snoods

[arandomcoyote]

I remember Heartstone streamers and how there was a streamer named Trump (unrelated to the racist cheeto) and the "meme" circa 2014~2015 was chats spamming "tuck frump" and it lasted until 2016 because gamers decided they rather be white nationalists instead and saying that would attack and offend their supreme leader

[ivyglow]

The tweet isn’t pro trump to me. That’s pro we have to hope whoever our president is can not fuck up. I didn’t and would never vote or support frump especially as a human. But I still hoped he would come to his senses and be a good leader until we could get his fucking ass out of there. He never was but to me you still have to hope.

I’m not answering these anymore

and btw as I answered in the end of the other ask (there’s tons of things of him supporting tr*mp, if you’re not convinced go search by yourself and you’ll see, if you don’t want to search and live in dream land where ppl support tr*mp just bc he was elected than good luck and goodbye)

[isawthismeme]

[imagexshirtsblog]

Homosexual tendencies shirt

Thank you for explaining yourself. Living in us I confess I’m not real familiar with Canadian politics. The problem is most people who praise a career politician for being PC, handsome, etc are usually less interested and less informed about politics. Is Humanity Dead in India? When Sushant Singh Rajput will get justice? How could you ignore this? You do realize he would be actually impeached if he was President Of USA but in Canada, it’s only a “mistake” 3rd time. actually, I'm fairly certain you were describing frump right there. As an American and not someone hailing from "'Merikka," I would HAPPILY trade you, leaders. As you might have heard, impeachment does not mean removal from office in the US. Give it up. He's not perfect. But he is SO MUCH BETTER than our orange buffoon! Yes, really. We in the U.S. are praying for the day that his jumpsuit matches his face.

Buy it here: Homosexual tendencies shirt HomePage: 2020 Imagexshirts Best Shirt

[curvedroygbiv]

as much as i want to see someone like warren as president, I also want to have a conversation about what it is going to to take to lay a ground work that a woman president isn’t immediately glass-cliffed. Obama wasn’t perfect, but OMG the whining and complaining and finger pointing. I can’t help but feel that some of this resentment that’s simmering under the surface at the moment was fueled by the fact that a black man had the gall to sit in the sacred seat of power. If we’re already facing this kind of anti-feminist backlash, what foundation must we lay beforehand to not only get a woman president in the first place, but also to ensure that the majority of lawmakers who are men don’t immidiately dig their heels and blame her for everything that goes wrong during their tantrum? how do we balance holding a very human and flawed leader accountable while also giving her the support she needs to not be come a poster child for “women don’t belong in politics?”. I saw so many people trying to make the argument that “racism is over” the moment obama took office; people are already trying to pretend like no one ever oppressed women, how to we keep this from being another step back. 

Somewhere out there is the first woman president of the US, but for average frumps like me, what kind of grassroots can we plant to clear her path?

Warren would have done 300% more for working class women and children in the US with the same approximate amount of posturing bullshit as Biden

[rainbowunicornpoppies]

A New Chapter of All the Way is here!

Chapter Three

As Cassian and Jyn recover in this strange new world, the captain grapples both the worry of where they might be alongside the amazing possibilities of a new life, one that just might have Jyn in it...

Read it on AO3 here or after the cut!

Perhaps it was the fact that he was being fed consistently for the first time in god knows how long, and they every face that came into see him only ever wanted to help him, but Cassian Andor was actually starting to like his time in this hospital. He wasn't ever going to admit it of course, least of all to himself, but every day that he woke up, opened his eyes and realised that he was still in the hospital he allowed himself just a few moments of relaxation knowing that it was incredibly unlikely that anyone here was out to kill him.

Then he saw the tubes in his arms and the loose hospital gown that hung around him and he remembered that he wasn't a guest in a plush hotel but a stranger in a world that Jyn had yet to place.

She would come to see him at least twice a day, three times sometimes, and she'd always sneak over some items in her pockets. Chocolate shells coated in sugar, gummed sweets that got stuck in his teeth and drinks tasting so sweet that they conjured up memories he thought he had forgotten from back in the days when he had living relatives. Perhaps it was the candy, perhaps it was the joy of Jyn's company, but Cassian had never laughed more than when he sat up in his awkward hospital bed opposite Jyn, her legs crossed underneath her as she sucked orange juice from a carton.

That was another thing too, Cassian realised. There were different Basic words here for things that were otherwise familiar. Oranges, sweets, chocolate...

He snapped back into the present as he remembered Jyn was talking to him. She often talked just about the hospital: the nurses, doctors, the layout of the building, but today -

"The doctors," he heard her say. "They were asking me all sorts of questions today, where I grew up, if I had any difficult experiences, that kind of thing. They seemed... they seemed concerned."

He frowned, popping a candy into his mouth.

"Concerned?" he said. "Concerned how?"

"They said -" Jyn lowered her voice. "They said they couldn't find me on any kind of register."

"Well of course," said Cassian, lowering his tone to match hers. "Only makes sense."

"And those they have screens telling the news," Jyn continued. Cassian had heard her mention those before. Televisions.

"They were talking about some famous singer in hospital yesterday. It's all they were talking about," she said between sips. "But today they were talking about some summit, Gee-8 or something, said it was to do with to do with their world leaders. We're in a country called the United Kingdom."

Cassian raised his eyebrows.

"That's an optimistic country name," he said. "Are they as United as they say?"

"I'm not sure," she admitted. "But I think this United Kingdom is in Europe and they call this planet Earth. They were mentioned something called global warming..."

The words baffled Cassian. Again with the Basic that seemed so alien and yet so familiar!

"But is there the Empire?" he said. "Any Rebellion?"

The look on Jyn's face - both distressed and angry for being so - made Cassian's heart ache for reasons he could not quite understand.

"I don't know," she said, her voice slipping from informative to exhasperated. "I keep hearing references to this man called - oh, what was it, Clump, Frump - well, this man that people keep calling awful but as far as I know there's no Darth anything in sight."

This news, while it should have assured Cassian, instead unsettled him for the lack of knowledge they still had about this new world. The enemy he knew about he could deal with, the enemy he didn't even know existed... that was another matter.

There was a rap on the door and a nurse poked his head in.

"Miss Erso?" he said. "Shall we head back now?"

Jyn squeezed Cassian's hand quickly and gave him a look which he had recently been able to read easily: I'll find out more. We'll be safe, don't worry.

Cassian worried anyway.

When she was gone he leant back in his bed and allowed his mind to wander. The ultimate fantasy, the ultimate possibility was that they had woken up somewhere new: a new world - no, universe - where nothing either of them had ever known existed. No Empire, no Rebellion, no pain, no loss, just a clean slate to move forward. But this possibility was so beautiful, so improbable that Cassian had thus far pushed it out of his mind.

Yet as he lay back on his pillow at present Cassian began to entertain ideas of what he might do if this new world really was just as he dreamed. Perhaps he would find a way to get a small house, him and Jyn. Did this world have money? Oh yes, she had mentioned there was. Pounds, she had called them. And perhaps they would start a farm or something, she mentioned her parents had done that. But what would he do? He didn't know. A spy spent so much time dreaming up different identities and motivations and yet when it came to himself... no, perhaps he'd do something where he'd get to work with children. He hadn't had a childhood. If he could give a childhood to other kids... yes. Yes, he'd like that.

He wasn't sure if Jyn would want to start up a farm though. The more he thought about it the more he realised that she surely wouldn't want to live a life so quiet when she had this whole new world at her feet. A new world where she could be anything... and then a thought struck him. She could be anything, do anything. Who's to say she'd want to do that with him around? If there was no Empire, no Rebellion, she didn't have to have him around any more...

For some reason the thought made him squirm in the pit of his stomach, in such a manner that made him feel sick. But in a moment of saving grace there was another knock on his door.

A woman in a black uniform, all suited up with a fixed smile on her face, looked through the gap in the door behind the nurse that had knocked.

"I have someone that would like to speak with you, if you're feeling quite well?" the nurse said. "This is Detective Lang."

"Detective Lang?" he repeated, confused.

The suited woman took a step forward so that she was clearly in the room, all a sharply cut blonde bob and glossy shoes.

She flicked open a pass holder that showed an official license Cassian didn't recognise or see clearly.

"Detective Lang," the woman said. "Guildshire Police Department."

[adriennemareebrown]

part one: what a time to be alive.

right now we are in a fast river together – every day there are changes that seemed unimaginable until they occurred.

if you are a white person (or a man) this is a time of intentionally relinquishing power, or having it pulled out from under you. i know it seems fast and everywhere, but it’s actually not a rapids, not a waterfall, not a tsunami. most people who aren’t white have in our lineages or lived experiences the whiplash of much more drastic changes, placed upon us by your ancestors. being snatched from home and shipped into slavery, weighed and measured, worked to death, lynched daily by authorities, reminded that our lives are expendable at any moment (and yes this is true even right now, hence #blacklivesmatter and #defundthepolice).

or being displaced from the land we were given instructions to love and care for, then raped, killed or reprogrammed.

or being burnt up by new weapons your ancestors created to speed colonization or domination. being cast as the savages or terrorists in their worldview in a way that stuck to us even outside the stage of their minds; stuck in your minds such that it’s nearly impossible for you to even see it without cultural ice buckets poured on the delusion.

your ancestors did not fight fair, and they didn’t teach you to be in right relationship with anyone. they didn’t give our ancestors time to wonder, ask for help, course correct, negotiate. this is why some say you should be grateful we seek justice, equality, and our humanity, versus revenge. because right now, after years of physical, intellectual and cultural warfare on peoples who were different from white, you have an opportunity to leap forward, dive into this river of change, rather than be deluged and drowned in it.

the time for denial is over. you were not raised in a secret mountaintop retreat disconnected from the world, you haven’t existed with no contact for over 400 years…so we know you see and know what is going on. and you’re scared, saddened, defensive, guilty, and unsure of who to be if you aren’t the default superior. so you make choices towards or away from or against your own highest self.

when you say ‘but don’t all lives matter?’ we hear ‘i refuse to acknowledge the harm i have caused you by benefiting from false constructs of supremacy. i cannot prioritize your pain over my privilege.’

when you say ‘ok ok so teach me’, we hear, ‘my time and needs continue to be more important than yours. i refuse to google and read, i demand your labor.’

when you say ‘but what do i do?’ it sounds like procrastination, because we have told you a million things. here.

here are ways i recommend for diving into this river:

learn to say, and mean, ‘i am sorry for the impact of my white supremacy.’ don’t post it on the internet, say it from your heart and gut directly to people you’ve impacted, especially in situations when you were/are in positions of leadership or authority. and then – and this is important – shift your behavior so you never need to give that apology again. riffing off fellow nerd albert einstein, practicing white supremacy and expecting a different outcome than race war is one definition of collective insanity. i don’t want the apology without the shifts in behavior, policy and access to power, without the end of the monsoon of constant harm.

commit to doing your own work without seeking accolades. yes, some people of color will be welcoming, will even celebrate what you do – i am sometimes moved to tears when i hear how acts-of-white-people-being-kind-to-black-people touch my black southern father, who just never thought he would see that. and/but many people of color won’t clap because the point of this moment is decentering whiteness in the story of humanity. that means not centering white course correction with the attention we give a baby’s first steps. we won’t patronize you for rejoining a collective path…and that should be good news.

don’t revert to supremacy under pressure. it breaks trust. if you are told you are practicing white supremacy, consider that we see and feel things you do not because they’re weaponized against us, weighted against us, scarring us, limiting us. we aren’t generalizing or reducing you, we are protecting our vulnerable lives.

redistribute resources. not as charity, which is just another way to assuage the conscience of privilege. redistribute money, leadership positions, decision-making power, land, time in meetings, visionary space, relationships with philanthropy, speaking opportunities, press attention, health care benefits – if you can measure it, you can redistribute the resource.

i am taking the time to write to you because i am a mixed race black woman. i am connected to the same lineages of harm as you, even as i am harmed by them. i am in intimate familial relationship with white people, and i want those relationships to be honest and accountable. i benefit from how the artifacts of whiteness in my skin, cadence, and cultural shaping make me more visible and comprehensible to you, more human to you.

it’s a devastating weight to carry, to work to be fully myself, humble and brilliant and messy and great, against a delusion of white supremacy so pervasive and invasive that it can grow within each of us without invitation. but just because something alive violates us does not mean we asked for it, does not mean we partner with it, believe it, or even let it live.

i in my wholeness am working to hold the contradictions of white supremacy responsibly, to weed my own garden even as i demand and build my and our black power. we all have our work, and none of us can do anyone else’s.

..

part two: a variation on paying attention to white people

in the spirit of ‘what you pay attention to grows’, i want to bring more attention to the white people who are in my life, none by accident, none tolerated, each beloved and cultivated. not everyone has an experience of white people who love, learn with, and follow them. i want to practice, in this moment, attending to them as much as or more than we attend to the swarm of karens and beckys and donalds and other haters.

i do not believe whiteness will just disappear in shame, or that white people committed to race and other offenses to science and god will self-segregate in a way that leaves the rest of us and the planet safe. so i must believe that something else can emerge, is emerging, even if it is still small and rare. and my belief is met by the presence, felt much more than spoken, of white people who are blessings, peers, beloveds, comrades, self-responsible humans.

i am blessed by my mother. she gave up everything she’d been raised in, family and resources, when she realized she was in love with my father. she began unlearning racism without training, decolonization curricula, language monitors. she began her unlearning in relationship, both as wife and as mother. she was the one who came storming into classrooms challenging our racist teachers. she has taken our sides and has our backs and asserts our brilliance at every turn. she doesn’t claim to get it right, she keeps leaning in and learning with love. she makes me consider that something can shift deep within when you birth a black child, or three. i am not interested in denying that, ridiculing that, making it smaller than what it is.

i am blessed by those in my southern white family who reach out to let me know they love me and listen hungrily to suggestions for what they can do to be in solidarity, to raise their kids to see beyond the racism they’re all raised to swim in. they do help to offset the pain of knowing there are white people related to me by blood who watched me be a black child and then chose to vote for the klan’s favorite president, frump.

i am blessed by the anti-racist white people in my inner friend circle. instead of perfection, these friends are committed to practice, to asking questions and really listening to the answers, to doing their own work and not putting it on me, to releasing rigid control and seeing that that there are many ways to be productive and efficient, to growing ease in taking leadership from black people, from people of color. and then diving in deep with other white people. and decentering themselves in their fields. and fucking up, and then letting it grow them rather than make them performative or bitter. they do most of their race work elsewhere, and yet it is palpable to me without feeling like guilt, charity, pity or other power-over emotions.

i have had a white partner in the past, and though i revel and thrive in black love now, when i look at movement i actually see a huge number of leaders with white partners, white family, white community. sometimes claimed, sometimes quietly kept off screen. i think we need to bring more attention to why those people get to be in our lives, why any white person gets the privilege of being in intimate space with those who have experienced enough ancestral harm from white people to stay away forever. attend not in a carrot/stick way, not denying your humanity, not cheerleading what you are already just supposed to do, but simply to acknowledge that it is work.

it isn’t a shift at the level of slogan, political correctness or press release, though those cultural quakes do soften the soil for new organic infrastructures of antiracist life to take root. it is deeply personal work to relinquish white supremacy, and it helps me if i think of the white people in my life not as exceptional, but just a few steps ahead in their work.

think of those confederate statues coming down. all my roots are southern…those statues seemed like they’d always been there and always would be. and then slowly the realization that they were celebrating the worst of humanity, the plantation hitlers, that that’s what white supremacy is really about. now it feels inevitable that we are pulling down the symbols, while inside everyone’s minds we are pulling down the ideas of racial supremacy.

but then there’s the gap, the statue’s empty base, the place where that idea once seemed right but now there’s just the wound, the world shaped around the absence of a clear way of being. i just purchased the bust of a black man, head full of amethyst, from damon davis; and last year i visited the lynching museum, full of statues to honor the murdered. both of these works are perfect and i wish they were everywhere, so i am tempted to make a case for replacing the statues with black heroes and martyrs. but i can also see the case for no replacement statues, in our town squares or our minds. we live in a beautiful interconnected world that needs our attention. maybe if we drop the performance of celebrating difference, we can make it possible to actually survive difference.

it must be possible. we must make it possible, or else we will always be in a position of demand, or counter policing, or rage. i want us to use this current justified rage to shape demands that take the labor and danger off of us. so that our grandchildren don’t have to live such taut, hurt and angry lives.

at the same time i want us to contend for power, and notice who truly invites that power. that is the common trait of every white person, every person, i allow into my life in a meaningful way: there is a mutual invitation. both of us in our power and truest selves are invited into every space.

so for the white people walking this path with me, thank y’all for keeping me faithful when a mass perspective on whiteness still feels pretty hopeless. thank you for being willing to be visible, or not. thank you for not waiting for praise as you unlearn the supremacy you were programmed to practice, and for not reacting personally to the righteous rage and shifting boundaries required to move through this collective transition. thank you for offering support instead of demanding more labor.

mary hooks has articulated a mandate for black people in this time – to avenge the suffering of our ancestors, earn the respect of future generations, and be willing to be transformed in the service of the work. the white people in my life must align with that mandate – put your lifetime in service of undoing the work of your ancestors, earning the respect of future generations, and being willing to be transformed in the service of the work.

[lumieberry]

Short story!

The choir sang their praises to me with all the air in their lungs, but where there was supposed to be warm, lay an undertone of panic. Gasping for air, straining the high notes, drawing out the vowels for a little too long; it felt coarse in my ears, ringing a little once the song was over.

Shuffling papers at the altar, the leader opened his mouth, and into the stiff silence poured shaky words of wisdom. His black collar sat skewed on his neck. The whole congregation, in fact, dressed like a funeral on a Tuesday morning, deep in black and useless, mourning frump as if they were sorry for simply living.

I pity them. I love the way their voices meddle into song in the cold air, despite the strain. These people are their own future, loving, healing, building themselves a life. They are better than they know.

If only I could let them know how much I love them. How much they're worth to me. But I am not their God, as they suspect.

I am a prisoner, tied in chains and rock to the statue-spot in their holy hall, slowly eroding into sand on their floor. I am their guest. I am their sanctuary. I will never get to hold them gently like the gems they are. I have no flicker of doubt that I will die here, forgotten, without saying a single word.

[iratobs]

Wisdom for women for godly dating and relationships:

A wise and godly woman knows that if he isn't answering his phone or your text messages, emails, etc., he's just not that into you. Let him go. Stop waiting for that phone to ring.

A wise and godly woman knows that if you have to show off your cleavage and breasts to get his attention, he is not the one. Your heart and character should be what makes you attractive to him. Not your butt, breasts, hips, etc. If you dress like trash you will be treated like trash.

A wise and godly woman knows that if he you have to beg him to spend time with you and your kids, he's not the one. A man who really loves you will make room in his schedule for you and your children.

A wise and godly woman knows that if he doesn't have respect for you, your parents, his own parents or people in authority, he's not the one. A good man will respect and treat his family and people in authority honorably. He will honor his parents so that it will go well with him all his days.

A wise and godly woman knows that if he is leading you away from God, he is not the right one. A good man will lead you closer to the Lord. He will attend church with you, read the word, worship God on a daily basis. His conduct and actions will reflect his relationship with God. He will inspire you to grow spiritually.

A wise and godly woman knows that she can't make him be ready to be husband material. He either is or isn't. Don't waste your time trying to change him. No amount of sweetness on your part can make him be a righteous man.

A wise and godly woman knows that a godly man will respect your body and your boundaries. He will not try to take away your purity or God given privilege of sex without marrying you first. He won't pressure you to compromise. If he can't wait, then he's not the one.

A wise and godly woman knows that if your relationship has to be in hiding or in secret, then it's not real love. Nothing should be hidden in the dark, but be in the light.

A wise and godly woman knows that if he lies to you and he is deceptive about things, he will lie again. Don't expect him to tell the truth. You will be on a continuous carousel cycle....Going around and around. Get off the ride, Darling.

A wise and godly woman knows that if he really loves you he will not try to change or control you. He will appreciate your differences and promote your strengths. He will celebrate you for who you are.

A wise and godly woman knows that if he's hit you once or even threatened to raise a hand to you- He's not the one. One time of violence is too many times. His anger issues will not just disappear. Run and don't ever look back. A godly man would never threaten or try to harm you. He will only protect you.

A wise and godly woman knows that just because he has some good qualities, it does not mean he's meant to be your life partner. What he is now is what he will be later, even after you walk down the aisle. Marriage does not change his heart or character. You deserve the whole package. Don't settle because you are lonely.

A wise and godly woman knows that being unequally yoked does not just mean not sharing the same faith. It also means you both need compatible dreams, goals, vision, and callings. It means being on the same page concerning your destiny. Just because he is a Christian does not mean you should be united as one. A house divided cannot stand.

A wise and godly woman knows that his words are nothing unless he can back them up with his actions. Words and actions go together and must be consistent. Flattering words do not mean he will treat you well. Out of the abundance of the heart, a mouth will speak. Take notice, because there also will be proof behind the words he says. Don't ever forget that.

A wise and godly woman knows that if he can't keep a job, balance his account, pay his bills, and be wise with his money and spending, it's not a good situation to be in. A godly man will pay his tithes and offerings and trust God with his money. If he doesn't do this consistently, he's not the one. You deserve to be provided and cared for.

A wise and godly woman knows that if he has addictions (smoking, drinking, gambling, pornography, sex, etc.) no amount of love from you can overcome the heaviness and weight of his chains. Your life will be a living hell, as you will be chained to his sins. He is not the one. You can't deliver him. Only God can, and then only if he makes the decision for himself.

A wise and godly woman knows that if he has cheated before, he most likely will again. If he's cheating with you, then he will cheat on you. Adultery does not make a marriage or a God blessed relationship.

A wise and godly woman knows that if he really loves you, he will protect you, provide for you, cherish you, lead you, comfort you, celebrate you, and appreciate you. He will make you feel safe. He will honor you. If something is lacking in any of these areas, he's not the one.

A wise and godly woman knows that if he can't embrace and love your children, he's not the one. A godly man will see you and your children as a blessing, not an inconvenience. You are a package deal. You and your kids are precious cargo. Never compromise your children for romance. A godly man would not expect you to.

A wise and godly woman knows that if he's not striving, growing, making goals, reaching for dreams, or moving forward, your life together is going to be stagnant, boring and full of frustrations. Without vision, people perish.

A wise and godly woman knows that her dreams, her goals, and her aspirations will matter to the one who truly loves her. He will believe in you, support, and encourage you in your dreams. He will speak life into your destiny.

A wise and godly woman knows that love should not hurt too much. It should not be taking away your peace, your joy, you self confidence or your spirit. If you feel worse in his presence, and feel like you can never measure up, then he is not the one. Run...run fast! You deserve better. Love should add to your life. Not take away.

A wise and godly woman knows that he should be growing spiritually on his own. He should be able to maintain his personal relationship with God. His life and his decisions should be based on the Word and character of God -even when the church doors are closed. There should be fruit in his life. You will know a believer by their fruits.

A wise and godly woman knows that a godly man should always treat her like a lady. He should open the car door, let you enter first when walking into a building, pull out your chair, pay for dinner, be respectful and have manners with you at all times. He should never use profanity in your presence or call you names that are hurtful. If you expect to be treated like a lady, then you will be. If not, he's not the one.

A wise and godly woman knows that a godly man will be honest about his intentions toward you. He will not play childish mind games or lead you along if he has no true interest in commitment. If he wants to be in your life, he will be consistent. You won't have to beg him for his attention or his physical presence in your life.

A wise and godly woman knows that she should let a man know what she expects of him in a relationship. She is honest and forthcoming, and doesn't take advantage of his generosity. She will respect him and honor him -both publicly and privately. She will desire to be a blessing every day of his life. If you can't do this with him, then you are not the right one for him. He deserves your best.

A wise and godly woman knows that God's chosen best is worth waiting for. Trying to mold a man into the box of what you desire in a mate is cruel and unfair to any man. Wait on God, and don't settle for less than His best for you.

A wise and godly woman knows that the way you treat him and make him feel in your presence is what he will remember -more than the dress or shoes you wore.

A wise and godly woman knows that respect starts with herself, her standards, her expectations, and her priorities. It starts with her and she should let a man know up front how she expects to be treated. A good man will respect you and honor you for this. All these things should be based and founded by the word of God.

A wise and godly woman knows that he should appreciate and respect your body the way it is. If he's asking you to change your size, dye your hair, etc., he doesn't love you for you. However I do feel a godly woman should strive to maintain her health, exercise and eat responsibly. A good man will see you as beautiful just the way you are on fabulous days and frump girl days. Your beauty will be enough just the way you are.

A wise and godly woman knows that if he says he's not ready for or desiring marriage, and he isn't looking for a commitment, be wise and don't waste your life waiting for him to change his mind. If he already sees you as his wife, he won't need to be convinced.

A wise and godly woman knows that if you keep circling a bush about the same problems with him, guess what? You are going to keep circling around that bush. A healthy relationship can deal with and solve problems together. If you are still fighting about the same thing, it's going to remain that way when you are married.

A wise and godly woman knows that a godly man will seek after God's will concerning your relationship. Your love will be Christ centered. Your decisions and the direction of your relationship will be accomplished with united prayer and seeking God's word and His plan. This is a spiritual leader. The way he leads you before marriage matters.

A wise and godly woman knows that a godly man will not walk out and abandon you. He won't be leaving when there are obstacles or struggles. He will face challenges with you. He won't be disappearing and reappearing. You are not a yo-yo. Your heart is precious and he should handle it gently and honorably. Not be stringing you back and forth.

A wise and godly woman knows that no amount of your love, sweetness, etc. can change a man who chooses to be a boy. Only God can change him- if and when he makes his decision for God. Wasting your heart, tears, time, and dreams on a bad boy is a BAD choice. You are God's daughter, and you deserve better than that. ~ Written by Jenny Williams, A Modern Day Ruth. Copyright

August 9th 2013.

[we-arnold-lockshin-blog]

PROVOCATION AND LIES: “Russian Interference in US Elections” - 14

“Trump loves Russia”...

For the Russian people, the most dangerous and blatant fiction is that Donald Trump somehow wants to “improve relations with Moscow”.

Many Russian politicos, “experts”  and the CIA-controlled mass media constantly repeat Trump's demagogy and lies while foregoing any analysis of their reactionary essence.  The main purpose of this ugly mass deception is to promote the myth that Trump is favorably disposed to Russia.

Trump the not-so-astute deal-closer...

This political Neanderthal US president has NO INTENTION WHATSOEVER of actually improving relations with Russia.  His real aim: a crude attempt at divide and conquer.

Dysfunctional Trump is sufficiently acute to grasp that US imperialism has too many opponents on too many levels to successfullly confront all of them simultaneously.  Acting in his customary swindler role, Donald is clumsily engaging in a form of transparent sort-of-flattery of Moscow to isolate and then destroy first one opponent-enemy - and then the others, INCLUDING RUSSIA, in turn.

Among the bigger players, Trump is focusing his initial enmity on Iran.  The crude liar accuses Iran of being the main world sponsor of terrorism, when Iran is in fact a victim.  Trump has revoked the nuclear agreement with that country and provocatively sends the US Navy to harass Iranian ships off their own country's shores.

Meanwhile, this maladroit bungler-thief-liar-misanthrope-neofascist-supreme egotist simultaneously threatens nuclear war with Korea, war with Venezuela and insults and clashes repeatedly even with America's NATO allies, among others.

With China, Dirty Donald threatens a massive trade war (with no guarantee that the US would win that one) and likewise sends US warships to “patrol” Chinese islands.  If Trump believes he can force the Chinese leadership to make one or another concession – as on Korea, for instance – this cynical and largely inadept manipulator coos up to China for a time. But His Reactionary Royal Ass can mercurially turn nasty and negative on this “good buddy” - as on anyone else.

Where does Russia fit into all this?  Simply to put the Russian question on the back-burner temporarily.  And only temporarily.  “Conquer” or at least subdue Iran, China and the others.  And then the full force of The Great Hoaxer would be focused on Russia.

Any other conclusion belies logic.

///////////////////////////////////////

The bigger question: US imperialism...

The purposeful misreading of nefarious Trump by the Russian mass media, CIA stooges, prominent figures, “experts” and others is bad, very bad.  But even this is not the main sin.

What presents itself is an abject  failure to understand the essence of US imperialism.  Of indelibly plundering and predatory US imperialism.

NO AMERICAN PRESIDENT COULD EVEN HOPE TO MEND RELATIONS WITH RUSSIA. Not Trump, Shmump, Frump, Crump Dump – no one.  Certainly, not now under current conditions – which show no sign of improving in anything like the foreseeable future.

Virtually unanimously, republicans and democrats, the major mass media, the American body politic at large fiercely attack Russian policies, Russian leaders, Russia itself.  

All this is not just some internecine political quarrel.  It is POLICY of the American ruling class.

What we have in the Trump glorification campaign here is fundamentally a critical and dangerous misjudgement – in fact outright distortion - of what American imperialism is all about.  

The United States of America is run as a mercenary and reactionary dictatorship.  Of supreme importance: the vicious and thoroughly avaricious interests of the 0.1% of ultra-wealthy Americans who run the show.

Notwithstanding the CIA-directed destruction of the Soviet Union, Russia – in simply defending its own legitimate interests – stands in the way of American imperialism's all-devouring schemes.

Trump, Shmump, Frump, Crump Dump or whoever, heightened US imperialist enmity to Russia is baked in the cake.

The provocation and hoax of  “Russian Interference in the US Elections” is just one element in this dirty game.

/////////////////////////////////////////////

Перед нами сейчас -  коварный и опасный мошенник, расист, лжец и фашист Дональд Трамп, порочный Конгресс, нацистские ФБР - ЦРУ,  кровавые милитаристы США и НАТО >>> а также и лживые, вредоносные американские СМ»И».

/////////////////////////////////////////////

Правительство США жестоко нарушало мои права человека при проведении кампании террора, которая заставила меня покинуть свою родину и получить политическое убежище в СССР. См. книгу «Безмолвный террор — История политических гонений на семью в США» - "Silent Terror: One family's history of political persecution in the United States» - http://arnoldlockshin.wordpress.com

Правительство США еще нарушает мои права, в течении 14 лет отказывается от выплаты причитающейся мне пенсии по старости.  Властители США воруют пенсию!!  

ФСБ - Федеральная служба «безопасности» России - вслед за позорным, предавшим страну предшественником КГБ, мерзко выполняет приказы секретного, кровавого хозяина (boss) - американского ЦРУ (CIA). Среди таких «задач» -  мне запретить выступать в СМИ и не пропускать большинства отправленных мне комментариев.   А это далеко не всё...

Арнольд Локшин, политэмигрант из США

BANNED – ЗАПРЕЩЕНО!!

ЦРУ - ФСБ забанили все мои посты и комментарии в Вконтакте!

… и в Макспарке!