This has become a theme of mine: who knows what, and when.
Stderr
All the unbuffered error messages
This has become a theme of mine: who knows what, and when.
Everywhere I look, I see signs that the US has swung the steering wheel hard to the right, and is bumping and swerving into a deep, dark, forest. One with a big sign that reads “Danger, Keep Out” but has “MAGA” written on it in blood-red spraypaint.
Echoes of Roméo Dallaire’s nightmares rumbled in my subconscious for years after I read his book Shake Hands With The Devil, [wc] about the Rwanda genocide. While the carnage began, Dallaire was the commander on the scene with the only professional military force; he was repeatedly ordered to steer clear of getting involved while the UN and diplomats and presidents flapped their hands on television. It was then, Dallaire reminds us, that the entire international community started using elaborate vocabulary in order to avoid uttering the word “genocide.”
This is a useful chart, if you find yourself discussing migrant arrests.
I feel like treaties are now just the helpless squeaks of the mice trying to bell the cat. They probably always have been, I just wasn’t as cynical a few years ago as I am now.
“Just landed – a long trip, but everybody can now feel much safer than the day I took office. There is no longer a Nuclear Threat from North Korea.” [cnn]
The whole Michael Avenatti/Stormy Daniels lawsuit is starting to smell supicious to me.
Two wrongs don’t make a right.
How is bombing Syria going to help stop people gassing Syria?
Years ago, I read Massey’s Dreadnought and the Coming of The Great War [amzn] and one tidbit stuck in my mind: naval blockades are an act of war. Of course, it’s more complicated than that, usually cutting down to the core of the conflict – war supplies or food.
My family used to sometimes make expeditions to New York; we’d take the train up on a summer morning from Baltimore station, stepping out into the magic wonder-land of the city at 34th Street Station.