It turns out that people with foreign accents in English are now non-white.

“Imagine!” told me a colleague at the Friday meeting. “People look at us and think we are white just because of how we look. But then we start speaking, and they are so confused! They had no idea we are not white.”

It all sounds insane until you remember that “white” now means “bad.” And nobody wants to be bad. So people invent stupid things like these to persuade themselves they won’t be grouped with these horrible “whites.”

I’m very saddened by all this, people. I feel like a moron trying to explain that equating race with moral inferiority leads to very nasty results. One would think this should be obvious by now. But clearly it’s not. People around me pronounce “white” with the disgust usually reserved for “vermin”. Will we never learn anything?

This is an absolute horror. To do this to an 18-year-old child because he “chose” it without remotely being able to comprehend what it means is an atrocity. This is where the deification of “choice” leads. It’s a bad philosophy with terrible consequences.

What’s really maddening is that Afghanistan was an exceptional, outstanding success for the US but people don’t know this because nobody tried to explain.

For 20 years, the US kept a very conflictive region stable at a very low cost. Pakistan was kept out of the hands of nutso fundies. No confrontation between India and Pakistan arose. And then the US very elegantly unloaded this whole issue on China and stepped away. It was masterful. For the textbooks.

But nobody tried to explain this to the people. All everybody saw was a pathetic, bungled withdrawal. And instead of the consciousness of victory Americans were hit by a feeling of frustration and defeat.

The withdrawal was bungled precisely because nobody ever explained to people that this was a triumphant operation. Americans thought it was shameful and pathetic, so it had to be rushed to satisfy their feeling of urgency in ending it.

It’s objectively a lot easier to explain what’s going on than create and execute such a long-term operation. But the failure happened precisely at the level of explanation. Our talking heads failed us. Stole our victory. We should be more upset about this.

And the reason the talking heads failed to explain Afghanistan, lying about women’s rights and gender-studies courses as the US goals in Afghanistan, is their deep investment into anti-American narratives. Both left and right-wing pundits revel in anti-US sentiment. As a result, they couldn’t bring themselves to talk about this amazing achievement. We need a new pundit class. The MSM, the YouTubers, the Twitter commentators. They all suck bullets. They all need to get fired.

The “not my war” crowd reminds me of a guy who is surrounded by a group of rapists. They grab him, pull down his pants.

“This is not my rape,” the guy objects. “I don’t know what these guys’ names are. Plus, I’m against rape. I believe in loving sexual relationships. Nobody asked me if I want to be part of this rape. I’m not going to participate.”

There is no difference between this refusal to accept that reality exists and the fantasy that you can become a woman if you feel like it.

I told you, folks. That’s how Russia always does it. First, a tiny step that’s easy to disavow, giving everybody a chance to pretend that nothing happened. Then another. And another.

You keep thinking, “hey, is it worth starting a large conflict over something so tiny? I might have misunderstood what’s happening. Maybe I’m just imagining bad intent where it’s none.”

The tiny steps continue, and you find yourself in “a new normal” that it’s late to do anything about.

What people don’t get is that Russia’s goal in this war isn’t to conquer Ukraine. “If the West stops sending weapons to Ukraine, the war will end” is what silly little fools say. Because if the West stops sending weapons, that’s when the war really begins.

Russia’s goal in the war is for the West to not exist. So you can bleat “not my war” but that’s not your choice to make. Your adversary decides if it is your war.

And the adversary decided that it is.

I like to listen to news updates from Ukraine when I’m working on my research. They are in Ukrainian or Russian, so nobody in the neighboring offices or hallways can understand what’s being said.

It was all going great until I started listening to a report about the coup in Niger. It was discussed because of Russia’s heavy involvement in Africa. People were trying to figure out why Russia pretty much abandoned its interests in Latin America in favor of Africa.

I really wanted to hear the discussion but, unfortunately, the Russian-language pronunciation of “Niger” does not sound nice in English. I had to turn the newscast off immediately before somebody reported me for a micro aggression.

The readers who said it wasn’t necessary to bring anything to the Dean’s home party were right. People weren’t bringing anything. I did bring sunflowers but they worked perfectly with N’s Ukrainian-themed clothes.

I found a small group of working-class people (support staff’s family members) and then I actually enjoyed myself. It’s really easy for me to relate to working class people. We have good, unstilted conversations with funny jokes. I was probably a diner waitress in my previous life.

And here’s why I love Americans. These good people were completely up-to-date about what’s happening in Ukraine. Hell, they had fresher information about Prigozhin’s shenanigans than I do. And some great new Wagner memes.

In Spain, people with fancy PhDs can’t discuss this stuff with as much enthusiasm and insight as a regular American truck driver or dollar store cashier. Americans are interested in stuff. And in people. I love Spain, obviously, but America has something really special.

I don’t have that much left to do in the book. I have finished the chapters on:

1. Spanish Civil War and dictatorship.

2. Economic crisis of 2008-2012 and corruption.

3. EU membership and what a letdown that’s been.

4. Neoliberalism and globalization.

5. Ukrainian writers who write in Spanish.

All I have left is Catalonian and Basque separatism. And the conclusion. The intro us mostly done but, as always, I’m having trouble finishing strong. I’ll do something very personal and intense in the conclusion to avoid a watered-down finish.

The title is Contemporary Spanish Literature for Ukrainians, and my dream is to do a series, adding Contemporary Latin American and Contemporary American literature.

And no, I don’t want this book to be published in translation to any language. The things I say there, I’d be immediately unpersonned everywhere except in Ukraine. The whole point is to give me a chance to say things I can’t say aloud.

We are experiencing a day-long meeting of department chairs which I’m treating as an intense writing day. While people are discussing whatever it is chairs are supposed to care about, I’m churning out my word count.

Then people will ask how I manage to publish so much. This is how.

My niece came to visit us straight from a trip to Marrakech. She says the weather is worse here. Of course, I couldn’t take the kids outside yesterday in this heat because that would be child abuse. I took them to the local trampoline park. It’s great fun but it cost me $86 for 3 kids to jump for 90 minutes. It’s easy to be a good parent if you can afford it.

On the positive side, being at the trampoline park encouraged Klara to set the first long-term goal of her life. She wants to train herself to clear the obstacle course at the park with ease by the end of the summer. Working in small increments towards a far-away goal is a crucial and rare life skill, so I’m happy.