Another very heartening thing about Ukraine is that the people who understand that a disaster happened don’t blame it on the US. Or on Russia. Even though Russia clearly participated.
They realize that nobody is at fault but Ukrainians themselves. And that’s good because that’s the first step towards getting out of the shit.
Trump called the president-elect of Ukraine and promised support and help in protecting Ukraine’s territorial integrity. I honestly don’t see any reason for Trump (and everybody else) not to tell Ukraine to go to hell at this point, so I’m stunned and grateful.
If Trump were to declare that the Crimea belongs to Russia and not to Ukraine, at this time I wouldn’t blame him. 73% of Ukrainians don’t see any value in Independence, so why should Trump make them?
I’m extremely sad about Ukraine. But you know what’s at least a bit comforting? Every Ukrainian commentator, blogger, revolutionary, and journalist that I respect and follow feels exactly the same.
I’ve felt so completely alone and isolated since the Trump-mania struck the US that it’s kind of nice to see that there’s a part of the world where everybody I like is on the same wavelength with me.
It’s funny because in the US the people are good and normal while the opinion-makers and the intellectual elites are batshit crazy. In Ukraine it’s the other way round. The intellectuals are good and normal while the 73% of the population is loony tunes.
In other news, Ukraine is fucked. Which isn’t really new at all.
Every time you think the country is finally emerging from deep shit, it plunges itself into even deeper shit.
Now Ukraine will be back to being the corrupt, depopulated province of Russia. And a hundred years from now it will make another effort to change. Let’s hope it’s successful then.
I now have to scrap all my hopeful lectures on the Ukrainian Revolution of Dignity because the revolution has now died. I so wish I never got hopeful. Every time I get my hopes up that we’ll stop being a shithole, we become a greater shithole.
See, this is why I find Donald Trump — lying, unstable, barely competent Donald Trump — to be less of a threat than I find the kind of progressive elites who hate him. He has the presidency, which is a powerful thing to have. But they control Silicon Valley. They command the US economy. They control major American institutions, including higher education and the media. And they trust in their own goodness.
No, actually, it’s not 100%. I think Trump isn’t “less of a threat.” He’s no threat at all. He’s utterly impotent to put any obstacle in the way of globalization and the soft totalitarianism it imposes. There’s absolutely nothing he can do because he has no control over the ideological apparatus that brainwashes people into accepting the dogma of fluidity.
The reason why we hear so much that he’s a unique threat is because that’s how the real threat hides from view. All of these stories about “fascistic Trump” are meant to distract us from the new form of totalitarianism that is being built by Trump’s loudest denouncers.
This doesn’t mean Trump is good. He’s not good at all. He’s simply unimportant.
This challenge is so much fun that I’m thinking of extending it into May. I might have forgotten to write about the day when I moved my teaching outside the regular classroom and taught in a different building and a different space. At the end of the semester, everybody is tired and jaded. It helps to change things around because this gives a fresh jolt of energy to students and teacher alike.
Today, the unusual thing was that I brought Klara to church. She enjoyed the whole thing royally, even though Orthodox services last forever. She participated in everything: the palm procession, the instruction to the children, the Communion. Of course, playing with other kids was her favorite activity. Plus, there was dessert.
The palms turned out to be real palms. Which was unexpected because we use this instead.
“I’m having so much fun at your birthday party,” Klara said. “Happy birthday, Mommy! I love you so much.”
“Oh, thank you,” I say.
“I’m saying this so that you give me your piece of birthday cake,” Klara explains.
