Recently a London acquaintance sent me the link to a piece in Takimag.
And wow! I thought. What a marvellously meaningful heading! Particularly the US Dollar in Gangsta is so amazingly original, elegantly emphasized by a subdued touch of irony since Mr. Putin would most likely prefer Russian roubles as they are backed up with real gold and not Bernanke’s printing machines. The Gangsta itself struck me as an impressive bit of literary bravado, indicating that its author must be a man of consequence who has absolved some earnest gutter sniffing while feeling the pulse of the time. As for the KGB, once a highly obscure institution and about as transparent as the CIA, it is now defunct and thus a historically accurate metaphor of the first magnitude.
The piece as such turns out to be the usual bit of defamation backed up with nothing but innuendos and conjectures, an increasingly foolish routine already discussed in this journal. We learn that Mr. Putin owns assets to the tune of forty billion dollars, an estimate brought forward by some flatulent political scientist in an interview with the flatfooted German newspaper DIE WELT. Now German newspapers are a particularly reliable source of information, partly because they are largely in the hands of the enemy like everywhere else in the Western World, partly because there exists a secret treaty stipulated in the year 1949 that gives the Allied victors a de-facto control over the entire German media landscape until the end of this century. The same treaty decrees, by the way, that Germany’s gold reserves are kept in Fort Knox as a kind of ransom for the same length of time, an interesting fact if one remembers that the Rep. Ron Paul thinks a few latter-day Goldfingers may have robbed it and sent long since somewhere else. Perhaps, and this is a strictly personal guess, to Peking and Tel Aviv.
Furthermore are we informed of an ominous dossier milked from a dubious website of undefined ownership that states Mr. Putin’s quest for personal enrichment and absence of any moral barriers became obvious at the very onset of his career. We learn from the same source that the Russian president traded young children abroad, converted a military port into a Black Market terminal, sold whole submarines to never identified buyers, had a large number of opposition figures wiped out that stood more or less in his way, blew up a few apartments in Moscow to consolidate his presidency by starting the Second Chechen war, whacked the poor Chechens to kingdom come, scared a vodka producer first out of his pants and then out of his money, and did lots of other nasty things we better don’t talk about.
A shred of reliable collateral is never given, of course.
The author of this sorry concoction was born in Russia but calls himself Boot, most likely because that is what he got before settling in the West. Just as the BBC’s Moscow correspondent who thought he could insult the Russians forever, yet was taken one day by his dirty ears and sent back home without prior notice. As to Boot, near the end of his piece he comes to the point. Russia’s press has been reined in, he tells us indignantly, meaning that giant media squids like Rupert Turd Murdoch and his Zionist backers weren’t able to corrupt it yet. Business gets increasingly de-liberated, he laments, implying that vultures like Soros or Goldman Sachs aren’t allowed to sink their claws into the national economy. And of course he sheds a crocodile tear for that saintly Jewish martyr Michail Khodorkovsky who is smarting in a Siberian jail, allegedly on Putin’s orders. A terrible injustice that has effected the shrill indignation of Zion’s satraps, be it Mr. Obama, Frau Merkel or whoever else is on the payroll. Particularly the German chancelloress should be seen in this context as a heroic defender of democratic principles, since it was her kowtows that subjected poor John Demjanjuk, ninety years old and stricken with cancer, to a hideous show trial that had nothing to do with justice but merely tried to rehash one of Zion’s stale old canards. This with the intent to squeeze yet a few more billions out of the increasingly reluctant Germans. Mr. Demjanjuk was condemned without a grain of evidence — even the old trollop BBC had to admit that not one witness saw Demjanjuk injure anybody, which shows indeed where nowadays the true tyrants hold sway.
And in case you don’t remember Khodorkowsky (see here, here, and here), he was that youthful prodigy who tricked old man Yeltzin out of YUKOS, Russia’s national oil company worth billions of dollars, by paying him a pittance borrowed from Lord Rothschild. He recently had his greedy claws slapped with a few more years in the cooler, and a lenient verdict it is if you consider that the crazy bugger tried to grab the country’s presidency himself by buying every Duma member in reach. And, needless to say, after pledging most of his expected booty to the aforementioned Lord and his American chums.
What makes the wretched little piece so ironic is that it was launched by a lackey who serves masters with moral barriers about as high as a cockroach can jump. And who long since are gnashing their teeth in anger because there is one man in the world, perhaps the most powerful at this moment, who refuses to be corrupted like everybody else. Who has vowed to protect his country against foreign invaders, knowing full well that those are just a bunch of global mobsters who care about nothing except the reckless and limitless enrichment of their clan.
And if Mr. Putin keeps a few billions under the bed, well… great!
Because in that case he doesn’t have to go hat in hand to the AIPAC gangstas and mooch for election contributions. And pay them back by doing their bidding, which as a rule is entirely detrimental to his country’s interests. Like getting gangbanged into illegal and utterly ruinous proxy wars. Or stand idle by while, to use Robert Fuld’s famous phrase, the national economy gets wrecked and the leftovers are picked up by us for a song. He doesn’t have to comply with the dictate of Hollywood and the media bosses, all part of the same cupola, for fear of getting toppled with a pack of lies if he ever contemplates dissent. He needn’t watch with dumb consternation how our great Christian-European culture is systematically destroyed and replaced by Modern Art, Rap or pornography.
And so on.
I have little understanding of Mr. Putin beyond his official exterior. He is doubtlessly a man with an extremely forceful character. Educated, highly intelligent, shrewd. Ruthless too, because otherwise he wouldn’t be where he is today. But I also believe him to have vision, a rare quality that compels him to serve his people not only with iron determination but also compassion, a timeless and incomparable gift unknown among our own dozen-a-dime leaders. A gift I believe to have noticed when he shed a tear for those dying mariners. Which makes me hope that he will stick to his guns and go down into history as a great ruler who safeguarded his country against the woes that today beset the Western World. A world that would be wise to lay its fate into the hands of a man like him and thus be spared a slow but relentless slide into expropriation, bankruptcy and social upheaval.
Therefore, and if this has made some sense, you may light a candle and repeat the little prayer I have murmured a few days ago in Odessa while standing in one of those beautiful new churches resplendent with golden roofs topping a multitude of turquoise and aquamarine towers, all superb testimony of the resurgent Russian Orthodox Church that shepherds an intact and homogenous flock.
God save Mr. Putin, and may he never fold in at the knees…