...
I have been sticking my nose into what might be new about the scene with President Putin on Syria, and find Britain CROWING about him coming to meet with Cameron at Downing Street, incidentally going to the Olympic Judo competition, while Russia MENTIONS in passing that maybe they'll meet at the match.
The Western press has gotten so bad that I almost can't let my eyeprints land on it even accidentally. It's fluff. It's twaddle. It's bent. It's so shallow it doesn't even reach the ground. It's a lot of psychopaths spewing.
Engdahl to the rescue....
Except... except, I don't like him being in the belly of the beast just now. I don't like it at all. I'm trying not to fill with dread. I'm telling myself I'm just being dramatic. I'm consoling myself thinking of those serious ass body guards the Russians have. I'm sipping booze. I'm wishing I knew when he'd be out of there.
.
