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One person’s news blip is another person’s major revelation.
Iceland, my dear, dear, Iceland has taken a loan from Russia in the amount of $5 billion dollars to help offset its potential banking collapse.
Dayamn.
Now let’s be clear that this was an option of last resort for Iceland since its Western Allies weren’t ponying up some dough. And this is a HUGE mistake on behalf of the US. I won’t comment for the UK or the rest of Europe, but if we are in fact, and I think we can all agree on this, on the verge of brand spanking new Cold War, then militarily speaking, we should have found a way to help out Iceland. Period.
A quick review of the facts for a moment, shall we? As I’ve been writing about for over a year now, Russia has launched illegal flights over the island nation, claimed sea floor for Russia dangerously close to Iceland’s territorial waters, and they’re building a scary new submarine not all that far from the most strategic point of the North Atlantic. And now Iceland has been put in the position of having to borrow money from them?
Where the hell is the US strategic policy on this one?
As I previously quoted, Iceland is like a revolver pointed at the back of the head of the person not holding the gun.
And since America stepped out of Keflavik air base in Iceland in 2006, they are wide open. I hope that when Iceland is need of as second loan, and it is looking as thought it will be necessary, I hope the US smartens up and finds a way to help them out.
Among all the other things we can’t afford right now, this is another item on the list.
And of course I speak as an American on the topic and what Iceland means to us strategically. Hildi, I hope you’re out there. I’d love your input on this.
Oh, Vladimir, you know how much I hate it when you play coy.
So don’t think I don’t I know that this Medvedev fella is just a front. Playing Christian to your Cyrano, and no matter how much I love playing Roxanne in this little triangle, I don’t care for it.
And seriously, the flights over US territory? Next thing I know you’ll be driving by my house at all hours of the night, placing hang-up phone calls, starting rumors about us at school, and accidentally bumping into me in the lunch line. Dear heart, if you want to ask me out, just do it already. This shy-boy act is so tiring.
Besides, I think you know what my answer will be.
Oh, Vladimir, now what is this business with redirecting your warheads at Europe? And over a silly little missile defense program no less…
…sheesh, is this what a girl has to do to get your attention?
I know it’s hard letting go, but we both agreed it was for the best. Just because you’re no longer President doesn’t mean I’ll love you any less once you’re Prime Minister.
And that thing with Poland and the Czech Republic are just flings, dalliances, they mean nothing to me.
You know my heart belongs to you.
Now be a good boy and stop picking on those former Soviet states. You just point those nuclear missiles back over here at the US where they belong, and let me fix you a nice drink, ‘kay?
I know I have this freakishly bizarre obsession with Vladimir Putin, but I can’t help myself. He’s like this bulldog I used to have, Arnold, bad attitude and hated everyone, but he was so darned cute I couldn’t myself then either.
I remember back in college, I would be sitting at my computer banging away at the keys and Arnold would nose his face under my arm to demand attention. If I ignored him, he’d bite my fingers until I rubbed his belly. And that is exactly how I like to think of Vladimir, only instead of biting my fingers he drops a slimy nuclear bomb in my lap. Because even though he’s a naughty, naughty boy, I jusht wuv to grab his smooshy head and moosh him up ’cause he’s my special widdle boy, now aren’t you? Who’s momma’s widdle man? Who’s my widdle man? You are!
I mean, what could be better than having a Vladimir guard your house and person with the pure unadulterated joy of a beloved dog? All warm and cozy, sleeping at your feet in front of the fire. Patient and understanding as you clip his nails, although he has the insatiable urge to snap at you. (I’m drawing the line at picking up his “dookies” after him in the park, I’m not that much of a freak). But then you hear a noise in the kitchen and you pad on in after him to see what mischief is occurring and then it’s all VLADIMIR! Have you given Iran more nuclear material? Bad Vladmir! BAD! BAD! Don’t you give me that cutey face, I’m mad at you! What? I don’t care if you were Times Man of the Year, who’s gonna clean up this mess? Doooooon’t you try and hide from me, you get back here right now! VLADIMIR!
So it really boils down to a perverted version of puppy love. I praise him when he’s good Who’s a smart puppy who chastised Mamoud Ahmadinejad? You are! Oh, yes you did! What puppy gets a special ear scwatch for straightening out Bulgaria? Gooooood boooooooy! Yes you are! Yes you are!
…But I have to remember to be consistent with the discipline and swat him on the behind when he’s being bad. No matter how much it grieves me, he’s just too big a dog to not behave, aren’t you, Vladimir? Don’t you deny independence to Kosovo with me, puppy! Baaaaaaad doooooog! You go lie down! Go on! Right now! I SAID LIE DOWN!
And then he slinks off and lies under the coffee table to pout until he decides he’s finished being mad at me. Oh, but I’ll make it up to him. I always do. Maybe I’ll buy him a new chew-toy, maybe something Brown or Bush flavored….
It’s not been a good week. I’ve been dealing with the remnants of a cold, rushing to finish work before the holiday break, and stressed out beyond belief, but I came in today and the front page news has me turning cartwheels and tap dancing for joy.
Time Magazine has named my love, Vladimir, their Person of the Year. Obviously, they’ve been reading my blog.
I mean, really, who else could they have possibly chosen? Sure, someone advancing human rights, fighting for the environment, or a cure for cancer, but this is a man that has done something infinitely more difficult: he has almost single handedly pulled the Russian Soul out of the mires of post-Cold War alienation and despair and has made the Russian people, well, happy. Sure, his economy is a house of cards built around a one-trick pony that could blow away with the slightest poof of an Siberian wind, but who cares! They’re living in the now! In the moment! And they have Gucci and Prada, dammit!
Aside from being dastardly handsome and debonair, Time Magazine is simply recognizing some good old fashion Cult of Personality and I for one am darn glad it still exists.
Who else possesses such singular determination to rule the world? (You don’t fool me, Vlad, darling, I see behind those chiseled cheeks and icy, blue eyes…the soul of a dictator! But it’ll be our little secret, lovey, promise).
2007 marked the return of the Russian Bear, and don’t let anyone tell you different.
Nicholas Sarkozy is quite obviously taking his marital strife and that sticky union thorn in his side and channeling it into some bad-ass foreign policy for the good of not only FRONS but the world at large.
Pointing that dangerous widow’s peak of his at China, Sarkozy (I still just love this name, say it with me, Sar-COZY), has not only signed a $30 billion airliner and nuclear plant deal with the country, but before the ink even dries he goes all Vladimir Putin on their hinies and tells them the they have to clean up their act. The short list on this being to revalue their dollar and stop screwing the world markets, get going on some real environmental reform, and enact some darn human rights already.
I don’t have to tell you how much this makes my toes curl.
You really have to appreciate the enormous strength of personality this takes. What China giveth, it certainly could taketh away, signed deal or no signed deal. They have been called on the carpet before the world stage and Nicholas Sarkozy took a major political gamble in doing so.
China’s response? Sarkozy’s Chinese counterpart, Hu Jintao, invited him to accompany him to the Olympics next year in Beijing. Of course, given that seductive Jedi-mind-trick stare of Nicholas’s, I am sure that’s exactly what he told him to do.
I am really beginning to like this man. Vladimir’s garnering some serious competition.
It’s always difficult to jump back in the dating pool when you have ended a torrid affair. You need to time heal, to rethink your life and priorities, and, more importantly, your political alliances. While I’ll always love Vladimir, I must admit there is a new contender for stealing for heart: Nicolas Sarkozy.
He may not be a Judo expert or possess Vladimir’s assassination skills, but there’s something about that dagger-like widow’s-peak of his that says: “This is a man who will make his country men work 40+ hours a week like the rest of us sorry slobs”, and any politician who speaks at the G8 summit knee-walkin’ drunk, obviously must be skilled and gifted lover.
I admit it, I’m in it for the good old fashion romance of it all, and plus, he’s so fronch. And then there’s the name: Sarkozy. Say it with me: Sar-COZY…mmmm…
This could be the start of something, it could be the start of nothing, but it is the thrill of someone new. Someone who is not a bad boy, but possibly possesses the same stubborn streak as I do, time will tell, that, and the conclusion of the perpetual transportation strikes in Paris.
And when he looks out at me, as I know he does, over those television cameras, with that deliciously dark stare he uses to seduce the media, I find myself breathless, leaning back in my chair whispering ”mais oui”.
Okay, World, never you mind about Russian elections, Putin has you covered…
I do so love it when Vladimir multitasks.
Now this is the Vladimir I know and love. Mr. Putin is visiting Iran (the first Kremlin leader to do so since WWII) and has warned Mahmoud Ahmadinejad to think twice before stirring up any trouble in the neighborhood.
This is a good example of using your powers for good instead of evil.
Of course, I have to mention that Vladimir is on this trip despite a possible assasination attempt discovered by Russian Security forces.
I want to take this time to invite Iranian President, Mr. Ahmadinejad, to take a moment and consider the picture above. Do you really want to mess with this guy? Aside from the fact that he’ll kick your ass, there are thousands of nut-case women, myself included, who would happily do the same if you so much as touch one precious hair on his noggin.
First, let me extend a happy belated 55th to my ruthlessly sweet, delectable Mr. Putin.
Secondly, we have important issues to ponder today: What do you get a dictator for his birthday?
Aside from a population increase of few million, a crap-load of new military hardware, and apparently the arctic sea floor, I must admit, I’m a little stumped.
I was considering offering Vladimir the Prime Ministership so he could serve in a top government function for the obligatory year before making his second run at the Presidency, but what would be the point? He’s a smart and resourceful guy, I’m sure he has that covered.
