After more than a year of neglect as I posted on Opednews and thegreanvillepost, I'm planning to revert back to this blog as my principal site, hoping better access and a new alert system will encourage readers to support my work. I plan to learn how to add pictures and generally make the site more inviting.
Unrelatedly, I am in Russia for three weeks, in pursuit of some of the thousands of Americans who live and work here, giving the lie to most of what is written about Russia in the MSM. The very fact of their presence here is unknown, much less their numbers. I'll eventually be able to ascertain whether this trend is in any way comparable to that which brought thousands of Americans to Paris after the Second World War -- or to the considerable expat community in today's Germany.
After three cold and rainy days, I can say one thing: foreigners who claim that Russians are dour don't get it; Russians don't walk around with prosthetic smiles: they appear comforatble in their skins, apparently unaffected as yet by the incredibly vulgar television shows, serene, welcoming to the stranger.
On the night of the traditional May 9the parade that celebrates the end of World War II, the buildings opposite mine displayed a light show featuring burning tanks rolling across the screen, the country's official St George's ribbon, maligned by the new government in Ukraine, a large red star evoking the Soviet era and the numbers 1945. The date would mean little to most contemporary Americans, but it is seared into the souls of every Russian, explaining why in his short address, President Putin reiterated with more determination than ever, that no one and no country would ever bring Russia to its knees.