Having a wonderful time reminiscing about all my past travel (and other) adventures. Hope you’ll share them with me in my blog, “All Roads Led to Russia.”
It’s easy to tell when Vladimir Putin is joking, because he usually looks like this:
Or this:
Or — Heaven help us! — even this:
But every now and then, what passes for his sense of humor — more of an overload of sarcasm, really — comes through loud and clear.
And there it is: the smirk that killed Russia’s hopes.
And on Thursday, in a speech at the Eastern Economic Forum in Vladivostok, he treated us to what we can only assume were some of his best stand-up lines when he expressed his (alleged) support for U.S. Vice-President Kamala Harris’ presidential campaign:
“Our ‘favorite,’ if you can call it that, was the current president, Mr. Biden. But he was removed from the race, and he recommended all his supporters to support Ms. Harris. Well, we will do so — we will support her. She laughs so expressively and infectiously that it means that she is doing well.” [Nathan Hodge, CNN, September 5, 2024.]
And he went on to “criticize” Donald Trump for having placed “so many restrictions and sanctions against Russia like no other president has ever introduced before him.” [Id.]
Wait — is this the new Vladimir Putin? Has he been channeling U.S. comedians? Does he think he’s Bill Maher?
Bill Maher
If you listen to his actual speech, even if you don’t understand Russian (you can catch it at bbc.com, with English subtitles), just look at his face — and the face of the moderator — as he speaks. He is using the old standby device of saying exactly the opposite of what he means. It’s sarcasm.
And in so doing, he is continuing to accomplish precisely what the United States government has charged him with this week, and what he continues to deny — trying to influence the upcoming U.S. presidential election. He isn’t fooling anyone with his “support” of Vice-President Harris; his preference for the gullible and malleable Donald Trump has long been obvious. As far back as 2015, he said about Trump: “He is a bright and talented person without any doubt . . . an outstanding and talented personality.” [Id.] And they’ve been holding hands ever since.
“… an outstanding and talented personality”
Come on, Vladimir Vladimirovich! Whom do you really think you’re kidding?
No, not that turkey! This turkey — the one from Turkiye:
Recep Tayyip Erdogan, President of Turkiye
A full-fledged, card-carrying, dues-paying member of NATO since 1952, Turkiye (or Turkey, as it is more commonly spelled) has recently appeared to be having a difficult time deciding which side of the political fence it prefers: NATO’s democratic side, or Russia’s . . . well, you know.
In complete opposition to everything NATO stands for, Turkiye’s president, Recep Tayyip Erdogan, has staunchly refused to condemn Russia’s war against Ukraine, and continues to mollify Vladimir Putin at every turn. His justification is his claim to be able to negotiate between Putin and the Western powers in an attempt to end the war — though so far without success.
And now word has come from Yuri Ushakov, foreign affairs aide to Putin, that Turkiye has applied for membership in BRICS — the bloc of developing economies that seeks to counter the West’s global influence. [Associated Press, September 4, 2024.]
BRICS Summit – 2023
While President Erdogan has stated in the past that his country desires to join the BRICS alliance, this has not yet been confirmed, according to Omer Celik, a spokesman for Erdogan’s ruling party. But membership in BRICS would fit well with Erdogan’s long-time efforts to enhance his country’s global influence, if the alliance continues to expand.
BRICS aims to establish “a fairer world order and the reform of international institutions like the United Nations, the International Monetary Fund and the World Bank.” [Id.] Its founding members (in 2006) were Brazil, Russia, India and China, with South Africa joining in 2010. Newer members include Iran, Egypt, Ethiopia and the United Arab Emirates; Saudi Arabia has said it is considering joining; and Azerbaijan and Malaysia have already applied.
And there is that phrase again — the one that keeps haunting me: a “new world order,” which keeps cropping up in proclamations from both Russia and China. That cannot be a coincidence.
This is the alliance that Erdogan has expressed a strong interest in joining, while somehow maintaining his country’s conflicting membership in NATO.
I wonder what his justification will be this time.
Let me clarify one thing up front: We are not paddling our canoes through alligator-infested waters around here (although that nearly happened in some neighborhoods when Hurricane Debby blew through). We have cars, and paved streets and highways, and lawns, and shopping centers.
But when I arrived here from the big city just over four years ago, I was curious as to why all of the houses in our lovely neighborhood were lacking basements. And I was told it was because this entire region is built on a swamp.
Of course, I immediately had a mental image of a heavy rain (much like the aforesaid Debby) coming along and sucking our house up out of the ground with a big, resounding “Thwoop!”
It hasn’t happened so far, but I’m still thinking about investing in an inflatable raft.
And there actually was an alligator pond on the far end of the neighborhood when I arrived here; but I understand some of the homeowners were a little nervous about their small children and dogs possibly becoming ‘gator chow, so they — the ‘gators, not the kids and dogs — were relocated to a legitimate swamp or a preserve that doesn’t allow humans, I’m not sure which. Apparently there are people around here who do that for a living — moving large reptiles and such — which is a good thing for the rest of us.
So long, neighbor!
It’s been a particularly hot summer down here in the marshland, as it has in most of the world this year. And with our normally high humidity, and an excess of rain, we’ve not missed the ‘gators because we’ve had other critters coming out of their hiding places to keep us company. Like snakes — and yes, some of them are venomous — and spiders the size of Alaskan king crabs, and those good old Southern ‘possums that probably wouldn’t hurt you if you didn’t bother them but they just look mean. So as you can imagine, I stay indoors . . . a lot . . . well, okay, most of the time.
Now, that’s not as bad as it may sound, because our air-conditioning works really well, and I get to sleep as late as I want to, and hang around in my pajamas when I’m feeling particularly lazy. But most of the time, I do have things to keep me busy.
Let’s see now . . . Last week I had my regular doctor’s appointment, and this coming week I’ll be back at the dentist’s office, both of which are “in town.” Which means wearing something decent, putting a dab of makeup on my face, and actually venturing outdoors. And I’m scheduled to get my annual flu shot, a Covid booster, and an RSV vaccine, all at once, at my pharmacy on Saturday. So I should be down and out for a good 36–48 hours after that. And there goes the weekend.
After the Shots
I did get caught up on my laundry this week, and I got rid of that old cheese that had grown some penicillin in the fridge since I last checked it. I also straightened out my sock drawer, and re-arranged the books in one of my bookcases — not in alphabetical order, but by genre. That, I have to say, was extremely satisfying.
But mostly, I write. It’s one of the things I always wanted to do but never managed to find time for before I retired — that, and read my entire set of the World’s Great Books, which, I can tell you right now, ain’t ever gonna happen.
Writing, though, has become my greatest joy. Whatever comes to mind, I put down “on paper” — actually on screen, but I’m a little old-fashioned about some things, and I still talk about “dialing” a phone and “defrosting” the refrigerator. I have a very small audience of readers, and I’ve just about given up hope of ever having anything published. But the joy is in the creation, so I keep tapping away at my little keyboard, and sometimes what I write even makes me smile.
Russian author Fyodor Dostoevsky wrote a wonderful book called Notes From Underground about 200 years ago. Do you suppose someone will be reading my Notes From the Swamp in the 23rd Century?
And they’re unhappy, because they’ve been discovered, uncovered, and must now recover from their own undercover shenanigans.
On September 4th, the U.S. government announced a number of actions that it had taken against a dozen Russian individuals, two entities, 32 internet domains, and others in retaliation for — as expressed by a U.S. Treasury official — having engaged in a “nefarious campaign to covertly recruit unwittingly American influencers in support of their malign activity.” [Sam Cabral, BBC News, September 4, 2024.]
One of the principal targets of the U.S. actions was Russia’s state-controlled TV network known as RT (formerly Russia Today), for its widespread campaign to interfere with the upcoming U.S. presidential election. RT’s head, Margarita Simonyan, has been sanctioned for alleged attempts to harm “public trust in our institutions.” And two of RT’s Moscow-based managers — Kostiantyn Kalashnikov and Elena Afanasyeva — have been charged with paying content creators on U.S. soil to “pump pro-Russia propaganda and disinformation” to American audiences. [Id.]
Putin with RT head Margarita Simonyan
Additionally, 32 internet domain names used to “covertly promote AI-generated false narratives” on social media have been seized; other media outlets have been designated as “foreign missions,” requiring them to report under the U.S. Foreign Agents Registration Act; and a $10 million reward has been offered for information on hackers associated with the Russian group known as Russian Angry Hackers Did It (RaHDit). And that’s just for openers.
Holy crap! You can’t believe anything you see, hear or read any longer. It’s a crazy, disturbing world out there. And it’s about to get crazier . . . because the Russians wasted no time in shouting about getting back at us for daring to retaliate against them . . .
They started with their customary “turn the tables” routine, accusing the U.S. of doing exactly what they themselves have done. Maria Zakharova, Russia’s Foreign Ministry spokeswoman, said in a statement:
“When the authorities resort to such primitive ways of influencing their voters, this is the decline of ‘liberal democracies.’ . . . There will be a response.
“We warn that attempts to expel Russian journalists from the territory of the United States, create unacceptable conditions for their work or any other forms of obstruction of their activities, including with the use of visa tools, will become the basis for taking symmetrical and/or asymmetric retaliatory measures against the American media.” [Id.]
Excuse me . . . I’m sorry for losing control. I thought Dmitry Peskov was the only Russian official who could make me laugh like that. But this Zakharova chick is positively hilarious!
Has she already forgotten about Evan Gershkovich? Alsu Kurmasheva? Vladimir Kara-Murza — all released from their Siberian penal colonies just over a month ago in trade for a few Russian spies and a KGB assassin? Would she like to discuss “unacceptable conditions” and “obstruction of their activities?”
And then there are Russia’s own independent media, who suffered a level of tightened control that made it impossible for them to continue operating, and finally resulted in their shutting down when they were designated “foreign agents” — media outlets such as Novaya Gazeta, and TV broadcaster Echo Moskvy.
There have been the usual back-and-forth insults, charges and counter-charges, so reminiscent of the Cold War years. In those days, it was easier to hide in the shadows; today, everything leaves an electronic trail that is not just difficult, but is virtually impossible to continue covering indefinitely. And the U.S. seems to have found — likely not all, but many — of Russia’s electronic hiding places. And they’re not happy.
The two governments will have their day, exchanging accusations and mostly meaningless penalties; and in the end there will be little, if any, significant change. Russia, China, Iran, North Korea — all of our political adversaries will continue trying to undermine democracy throughout the West in any way they can. And with the internet, social media, and artificial intelligence at their disposal, it will become more and more difficult for us, as individuals, to distinguish the real from the fake.
So be careful out there in Cyberspace . . . it’s a strange and often scary new world.
Amid still unproven speculation that he may have been a Russian spy, questions have now arisen as to whether Norway’s adopted beluga whale, Hvaldimir, was the victim of assassination.
Hvaldimir
I can’t bear to think about it. But although it’s not yet been verified, two Norwegian animal rights groups have alleged that when Hvaldimir’s lifeless body was found last weekend in southern Norway, it appeared that he had been shot.
Hvaldimir, of course, is the beautiful white beluga whale who first appeared in Norwegian waters in 2019. When discovered, he was wearing a specially-made harness with mounts for a camera, and a buckle that read “Equipment Saint Petersburg.” Thus the belief arose that he might have been a Russian spy whale who had gotten lost, or simply decided to defect. He was friendly toward people and seemed happy in Norway, so the local folks adopted him and planned to relocate him to a safer place where there was a wild population of belugas. [Avery Schmitz, CNN, September 4, 2024.]
And now Hvaldimir — whose name is a blend of “hval,” the Norwegian word for whale, and “dimir” from Vladimir Putin’s first name — is gone. And the animal rights groups OneWhale and NOAH are calling for a criminal investigation “based on compelling evidence that the whale was killed by gunshot wounds.” OneWhale has said that “several veterinarians, biologists, and ballistics experts have reviewed [the] evidence of Hvaldimir’s injuries, determining that the whale’s death was the result of a criminal act.” [Id.]
And now we await the results of a formal necropsy.
But murdered or not, Hvaldimir is sorely missed by the people of Norway, to whom he had become something of a folk legend. And to all animal lovers — myself included — it’s always a tragedy to lose one of nature’s beautiful creatures.
Before you start yelling at me, that was not my idea. That was one of the thoughts thrown out there by Donald Trump in describing his plans for a new — if he’s elected, of course — “government efficiency commission” (it doesn’t have an official name yet).
Another of his off-the-cuff plans: steep regulation cuts. That would presumably be corporate regulation, of course.
Trump also has someone lined up to head his new commission: a good friend, one who sees eye-to-eye with him on so many wackadoodle subjects, one might almost think they were father and son.
And that person’s name?
ELON MUSK.
Yup, that one. That’s the guy that Trump would appoint to conduct “a complete financial and performance audit of the entire federal government, [and make] recommendations for drastic reform.” [Alex Leary and Richard Rubin, Wall Street Journal, September 5, 2024.] In fact, it was Musk who recently suggested on X that Trump form such a commission to tackle government spending as a way to address inflation. He said last month, “I’d be happy to help out on such a commission,” and just last Thursday added, “I look forward to serving America if the opportunity arises. No pay, no title, no recognition is needed.” [Id.]
What a guy! Such generosity! Such altruism! Such modesty!
Such bullshit!
So why does this worry me? Could it be because we’re talking about an individual who doesn’t even know — much less care — that the average person exists? About an egotistical, self-absorbed, conscienceless, anti-Semitic, racist, misogynistic narcissist who listens to no one but himself? And who would, if supposedly working for Donald Trump, eventually become a “shadow president,” because he could never stand being second fiddle to anyone?
Or simply because his “drastic reform” of the federal government would inevitably be in favor of the super-wealthy — not because it would be best for the country, but because it would be best for Elon and Donnie and all their little one-percenter friends?
AI Picture from Trump’s Truth Social Post
I keep thinking about Musk’s takeover of Twitter — not just the change to a stupid single-letter name, but the layoffs of 80% of Twitter’s employees. Is that what would be in store for our government workers?
Of course, I could be wrong; I’m not an economist. And he is a highly successful businessman, a self-made billionaire. He must know what he’s doing. But . . .
Yup, there’s always a but, and this is a big one, with both legal and moral implications: But what about the little matter of conflict of interest? For example:
– SpaceX’s most important customers include NASA (National Aeronautics and Space Administration), whose astronauts are transported to the space station by SpaceX, and the Pentagon for the launching of national security satellites. [Id.]
– Tesla’s car sales and energy business, are both subsidized by federal tax credits and grants issued from various government agencies.
– X is regulated by the FTC (Federal Trade Commission.
– Neuralink (his brain implant startup), is regulated by the FDA (U.S. Food and Drug Administration). [Id.]
What is he planning to do — “step down” from all of those companies while serving the government . . . much as Trump supposedly did while he was in the White House? At least Trump had kids he trusted to pretend to run things for him; I’m not sure Musk can say as much about his dozen offspring.
Trump Times Twelve
But really — what am I worried about? They’d find a way around it. They always do.
The handsome but unhappy-looking couple above are Linda Sun, former deputy chief of staff to New York Governor Kathy Hochul, and Sun’s husband, Chris Hu — both now under arrest on charges of acting as agents of the Chinese government.
Specific charges against Sun were violating and conspiring to violate the Foreign Agents Registration Act, visa fraud, smuggling of aliens, and conspiracy to commit money laundering. While working for the New York State government, she is alleged to have “influenced the messaging of high-level state officials regarding issues of importance to China, blocked Taiwanese government representatives from access to the officials, and obtained official New York State proclamations for Chinese government representatives without authorization.” [Gloria Pazmino and Mark Morales, CNN, September 4, 2024.]
Her husband was also charged with money laundering conspiracy and conspiracy to commit bank fraud, as well as misusing means of identification. In a news release, prosecutors said that Sun acted as “an undisclosed agent of the Chinese government while her husband, Hu, facilitated the transfer of millions of dollars in kickbacks for personal gain.” [Id.]
The couple were arrested on Tuesday at their Long Island home, seen below.
The Sun-Hu Homestead
The defendants’ attorneys have denied the accusations against their clients, and say they “have a lot of confidence in our case.”
Not surprisingly, the Chinese Ministry of Foreign Affairs’ spokesperson, Mao Ning, said that they were not familiar with the aide (Ms. Sun):
“I am not aware of the situation you mentioned. I will not comment on the domestic cases in the United States, but we oppose malicious associations and slander against China.” [Id.]
At a time when U.S.-China relations are already at a low ebb, the last thing we need is a dust-up over spying. But it’s inevitable that these situations will present themselves from time to time; we are, after all, talking about the world’s second oldest profession. It’s not going anywhere — not in my lifetime.
Only a Photo Op
And yet again, we’re reminded that you never really know who your next-door neighbor, your co-worker, or your beautician might turn out to be.
* NOTE: In deference to the tragically and brutally besieged, independent nation of Ukraine and its strong preference for the use of its own language, I have switched to the Ukrainian spelling of its capital city, Kyiv, rather than the Russian “Kiev.” Slava Ukraine.
*. *. *
Things had changed.
The day after Christmas of 1991, the Soviet Union had ceased to exist. In its place were now fifteen independent nations that previously had been Soviet Republics. And in the summer of 1993, most were still in the process of establishing their chosen forms of government, legal codes, and the institutions required to administer them. Ukraine was one of those fifteen nations, and as part of its development had established Embassies in various countries around the world . . . including neighboring Russia. It had also created official crossings along its nearly 7,000 miles of border abutting seven countries . . . also including Russia.
The 15 Former Soviet Republics
When I arrived in Moscow in May of 1993, much of this work was still in the process of being completed by the Ukrainian government, and my first train trip to Kyiv was easy and seamless. But by the time I was planning my second visit there, it was a whole new ballgame. There was now a Ukrainian Embassy in Moscow, and so I called to inquire whether I would need a visa to cross the border as a U.S. citizen with an American passport. It took a while to find someone who would even attempt to answer that question, and when I did, I was told that people with U.S. passports did not require visas to cross into Ukraine. Good news.
It was especially good news because this time I would be traveling with two American companions. Scott was working with the Foundation in the U.S., assisted by Michelle. Neither of them spoke Russian, and would be relying on my limited translation skills during the trip.
The fun began when we arrived at the Kyivsky Train Station in plenty of time for our scheduled evening departure. There was a woman taking tickets and checking I.D.s, and when she looked at our passports, she asked, in Russian, “But where are your Ukrainian visas?” Stretching my linguistic ability to the max, I explained to her the details of my call to the Embassy and what I had been told about not needing visas with U.S. passports. And she said, quite authoritatively, “Nyet!” I had apparently been given bad information, and her instructions were to see visas from everyone — Americans included.
Kyivsky Railroad Station, Moscow
I also explained that we had to leave that day as we had meetings scheduled the following morning with Ukrainian government officials and could not postpone our departure. She asked how we would get back into Russia, and I said we could get our return visas in Kyiv. She then asked what we would do about the border crossing. At that point, I moved a little closer to her, smiled conspiratorially, and whispered, “Well, that’s the Ukrainian government’s problem, not yours. Right?” Something from her lifetime of Soviet upbringing must have clicked into place. She smiled, handed our passports back to us, and said, “Khorosho” — “Fine.” And we boarded, three foreigners en route to Ukraine without visas. What a great start!
It got even better when the same lady who had taken our tickets showed up as concierge on the train and offered us tea. She obviously wore two hats for her job with the railroad, and I wasn’t crazy about this one, to say the least. She knew we didn’t have visas. What was going to happen when we reached the border? She would be blamed, unless she had a plan in place. This did not bode well for us, but it was too late to do anything about it now. We were already underway, captive on the train for the next 14 or 15 hours.
Michelle and I were sharing a two-bunk sleeper compartment, and Scott had a single at the far end of the same car. I was glad of the company, and we all sat up late in the “girls’ dorm,” swapping stories from our life histories, eating the food we had brought with us, and drinking good Russian tea, before finally kicking Scott out to his own quarters and locking our door. We had dressed comfortably for the trip, and something told me that Michelle and I should sleep in our clothes that night. I was later to be grateful for that decision.
At the border
The movement of the train soon lulled us to sleep, and it was around dawn when we were awakened by the screeching sound of brakes being applied and a whole lot of rattling and clanking going on. We had arrived at the border. Suddenly our door — the carefully locked door — was unlocked and slammed open with great force. Michelle and I both bolted upright in our bunks and were confronted by a very tall, very young, heavily-armed Ukrainian border guard, who stuck out one hand, palm up, and demanded, “Passports.”
Uh-oh. The moment of truth had arrived. Thank goodness we were spared the indignity of having to face it in pajamas!
I told Michelle to hand over her passport and to say nothing. Suddenly, I found myself in charge. Yeah, right. He was the one with the sidearm, not I. And he knew it. He also knew — compliments of the ticket-taker/tea service lady — that I spoke some Russian, and that we had no visas. But he dutifully scanned through our passports before saying to me, “Where are your Ukrainian visas?” Once more, I went through the whole story of the telephone exchange with the Embassy in Moscow. Then the following dialogue — in Russian — ensued.
Guard: “But you must have visas.”
Me: “No, they told me we didn’t need them with American passports.”
Guard: “But you must have them.”
Me: “We will get them in Kyiv.”
Guard: “No, you must get them in Moscow.”
Me: (Looking dramatically at my wristwatch): “But it’s too late.”
Guard: (Repetitiously): “No, you should have gotten them there.”
Me: (For the umpteenth time): “But they told me we didn’t need them.”
Guard: “Well, they told you wrong.”
That was when my patience ran out. I recalled what someone had told me years before, in an entirely different context: that you have as much power as you can make other people believe you have. So — from my still-seated position — I slammed my hand on the small table attached to the wall between our bunks, making the water bottles and glasses do a little dance, and angrily declared, “Well, that’s not my fault, is it?!!”
“So there!”
And there stood one very surprised border guard, wondering who this tough-talking, unintimidated, Russian-speaking American woman might be. At best, I probably reminded him of his mother; at worst, I could have been the First Lady of the United States for all he knew. He clearly had no idea of what to do next. So he did what came naturally: he passed the buck. Taking two steps backward into the corridor, he beckoned to someone farther along the car, and suddenly we had two young, tall, well-armed border guards in our little compartment. They began whispering between themselves, and all I could catch were what sounded like “psst-psst-psst-Americans,” and “psst-psst-psst-no visas.” Then the second guard looked at me and asked, “You will get your visas in Kyiv?” to which I replied, still with supposed authority, “Yes; I already said we would.” Shaking an index finger at me, he came back, “You be sure?” And as I waved a hand dismissively toward the door, I replied, “Yes. Now you get out!”
And by some miracle, they did just that. I had known all along that they were just waiting for me to offer a bribe (undoubtedly to be shared with the tea lady who had tipped them off), and I was prepared to pay if all else failed. But when I didn’t offer, they backed off as any schoolyard bully would have done. But I also realized that they had had the power to put us off the train in the middle of nowhere. Thank God they were young and inexperienced!
When they were gone, Michelle finally exhaled and asked what had just happened. I shrugged and told her we would get our visas in Kyiv. No worries.
“Yes-s-s-s!”
After more rattling and clanking sounds, the train started forward, and Michelle and I looked at each other and in unison exclaimed, “Scott!” He had been on his own, with no visa, and not speaking a word of Russian. As we rushed out into the corridor to find him, he was walking toward us, grinning from ear to ear. He asked if we were all right, and I said we were fine — that I had managed to talk our way out of it. But how had he gotten through it? Still smiling broadly, he replied, “Oh, I just kept babbling at them in English until they gave up and went away.” There’s frequently more than one way out of a tough situation, and Scott had found his.
P.S. For the remainder of the trip, we saw no more of the tea service lady. Perhaps, being Russian and not Ukrainian, she was dropped off at the border.
*. *. *
But as clever as Scott had been on the train, he nearly got us into big trouble in Kyiv. On an afternoon when we had some spare time between meetings, we decided to go for a stroll through a nearby park. We were delighted to come across two elderly gentlemen playing chess at a permanently-affixed stone table — a classic scene, just as you see in practically every movie about Russia. I talked to them for a few moments, introducing us as American visitors, and leaving with a traditional Russian farewell, “Vsevo khoroshevo” — “All the best.”
Passing the Time
A little farther on, we came to the banks of the Dnieper River, and followed it for a while, enjoying the sound of the rushing water. And then we found ourselves at the edge of the park, on a quiet street alongside a large office building. Turning right, in the general direction of our hotel, I wondered what the building was used for, saying I was feeling an eerie vibe from it. Of course, Scott and Michelle laughed at me. So when we saw a local lady walking toward us, I stopped her and asked, “Excuse me, do you know what this building is?” Her facial expression changed dramatically as she looked all around and over her shoulder. Then she whispered, “KGB.” I just mumbled a quick “Thank you,” as she hurried on her way. I was right about that vibe, and didn’t hold back from rubbing it in.
But Scott had an idea of his own. When we reached the corner and looked at the side of the building, we saw the name clearly engraved above the entrance: Komitet Gosudarstvennoi Bezopastnosti — “Committee for State Security.” KGB. Suddenly calling out “Take my picture,” Scott went charging up the tall staircase to the landing at the entrance and struck a pose, shouting for one of us to snap a photo. Knowing that it’s never a good idea to photograph a government building in that part of the world — and especially the offices of an intelligence agency — I yelled at him to get the hell out of there and refused to photograph him. But he decided this was fun, and wouldn’t budge. Finally I convinced Michelle that we should just walk away, and after a momentary pause he grudgingly gave up and joined us.
Main KGB Building, Kyiv (not the auxiliary building we saw)
And as we left, I noticed a car parked just yards from us, with two men seated in it. Just sitting . . . and watching. And I knew we had been spotted by KGB security. I quietly pointed them out to Scott and Michelle, both of whom finally realized that I hadn’t been joking and that we all needed to behave ourselves. The Soviet Union may have broken apart; but the KGB was, unfortunately, still very much alive. Needless to say, we had no further trouble with Scott on that trip.
In two days we had wrapped up the business side of our visit — my last one ever to Kyiv — and headed back on another long train ride to Moscow, this time with our return visas safely in hand. Scott and Michelle left for home a couple of days later, and I began preparing for the big event scheduled at Militia Headquarters: Petrovka 38.
‘Til next time, Brendochka 4/20/23 (re-posted 9/5/24)
Venezuela’s self-proclaimed president, Nicolas Maduro, has had his share of problems lately. Aside from the legitimacy of his presidency itself being denied and protested, he has been widely criticized for his friendship with Russia’s Vladimir Putin; had his illegally-purchased $13 million plane seized; and had to fight off growing political unrest among Venezuela’s citizens who are fed up with his authoritarian rule. And that’s just for starters.
Nicolas Maduro
But he believes he’s found a way to keep his people happy, or at least distracted . . . for the next few months, anyway. On his weekly television show on Monday, he proclaimed:
“September smells like Christmas! This year and to honor you all, to thank you all, I am going to decree the beginning of Christmas on October 1. Christmas arrived for everyone, in peace, joy and security!” [Stefano Pozzebon, CNN, September 4, 2024.]
Well, that ought to do it — particularly for the dissidents he’s thrown into prison. And for opposition leader Edmundo Gonzalez, who has been accused by Maduro of “crimes associated with terrorism,” and is now the subject of an arrest warrant issued just hours before the big Christmas announcement.
Edmundo Gonzalez
Since the start of the protests over the election, some 2,400 people have been arrested, and Human Rights Watch says it has documented eleven related killings. (Non-governmental organizations have reported 24 people killed.) Maduro has ordered two new prisons to be opened, and has called for “everyone in the streets to be imprisoned.” [Id.]
If they were speaking Russian instead of Spanish, I would swear . . . well, never mind.
To say that things are not going well in Venezuela would be a gross understatement. Obviously, then, what we need is a little . . .
Aside from this having been my parents’ wedding anniversary — without which, as I’m sure you realize, I would not be here to amuse and amaze you with my mental meanderings day after day — a number of even more significant events took place on September 5th. For example, in . . .
1793. The Reign of Terror began against enemies of the French Revolution. Those suspected of being traitors to the cause included nobles, priests and hoarders (according to britannica.com), and a wave of executions followed in Paris for nearly a year.
The Reign of Terror
*. *. *
1836. Sam Houston was elected president of the Republic of Texas. It took Mexico a long time to get over that loss (assuming they ever did).
First Flag of the Republic of Texas
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1877. Chief Crazy Horse dies. His date of birth is uncertain but is estimated at around 1842, which would make the Sioux warrior just 35 when he was killed in a scuffle with soldiers who were trying to imprison him in a guardhouse at Fort Robinson, Nebraska. A sad ending to a brave chieftain.
Chief Crazy Horse
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1960. Muhammad Ali won the gold medal at the Olympic Games in Rome. Then known as Cassius Clay, he was entered in the 175-pound division. He thereafter went on to a professional career that made him a sports legend.
Joe Frazier vs. Muhammad Ali: “The Thrilla in Manila”
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1972. Palestinian terrorists attacked the Olympic Village in Munich. A time of horror in the history of the Olympics. Hostages were taken, and eleven members of the Israeli team were killed. The Black September group, as they were called, were demanding the release of 200 Palestinian prisoners being held in Israel. The rescue attempt failed; along with the hostages, five of the captors and a West German policeman were also slain.
Masked Terrorist at Munich Olympics
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1975. Assassination attempt on U.S. President Gerald Ford. The attempt was made by Lynette (“Squeaky”) Fromme, a follower of Charles Manson. She was sentenced to life in prison, but was released in 2009. Now aged 75, she and her boyfriend are said to be living in Marcy, New York, in a house decorated with skulls. I don’t know what to say about that.
Lynette “Squeaky” Fromme
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1976. The first episode of The Muppet Show aired. Aww . . . Kermit, Miss Piggy, Cookie Monster, Big Bird . . . Who could ever forget them?
Some of the Sesame Street Gang
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1997. Mother Teresa dies in Calcutta at age 87. I was on vacation at Cape Cod when the news broke, eclipsed by the funeral the following day of Princess Diana, who had been killed in that horrible car wreck on August 31st. Even the “party city” of the Cape — Provincetown — was sad that week.
Mother Teresa
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2000. Tuvalu becomes the 189th member of the United Nations. Never heard of it? Also known as the Ellice Islands, it’s a group of nine coral islands in the west-central Pacific, with a population of about 10,000, featuring palm-fringed beaches and World War II sites, beautiful flora and fauna — all threatened by rising sea levels. Will we be writing one day of the sinking of Tuvalu? I hope not.
Tuvalu
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2016. Phyllis Schlafly dies at age 92. An American writer and political activist best-known for her opposition to the women’s movement and the Equal Rights Amendment, she was a woman way behind her time.
Phyllis Schlafly
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And thus ends another day in history. Today, September 5, 2024, two Chinese spies were arrested in New York; charges and sanctions were levied against a number of Russian individuals and entities for trying to interfere with the upcoming U.S. presidential election; wars continued to rage in Ukraine and Gaza; and a 14-year-old boy in a suburb of Atlanta, Georgia, shot and killed two classmates and two teachers. I can file those away for next year’s column on this date.
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