With so much of the news these days being focused on Russia’s ongoing war against Ukraine, people who never before considered it necessary to study Russia‘s history, its culture, or the psyche of its people have recently found themselves trying to better understand the reasons behind Vladimir Putin’s obsessive drive to reabsorb Ukraine as part of Russia’s rightful territory. And so we turn to the experts.

One such authority is award-winning author, journalist (of the Edward R. Murrow generation), former Harvard professor, and Russia scholar Marvin Kalb. Now 95 years of age, he still hosts The Kalb Report, a monthly discussion of media ethics and responsibility at the National Press Club in Washington, D.C., sponsored by George Washington University.

In his 2015 book, Imperial Gamble: Putin, Ukraine, and the New Cold War, he discusses the historical and geopolitical significance of Ukraine to the imperial ambitions of Vladimir Putin, arguing that Putin feels a personal responsibility to rebuild Russia as a Tsarist empire, to which Ukraine is indispensable.

And in that same year, in a discussion on PBS News, Kalb said:

“Russia can never be an empire
unless it is in control of Ukraine.”

He went on to say that Putin regards Eastern Europe as Russia’s back yard, and is willing to fight for whatever he decides is in Russia’s national interest. Russia had already (in 2014) annexed the southern Ukrainian region of Crimea, and had its sights set on parts of eastern Ukraine — the very portion it now occupies. Kalb said that the best outcome for Ukraine at that time would be to come to some sort of understanding with Russia, and not count on the West to come to its rescue.

When asked what we might expect from Putin next if such an accord did not take place — and remember, this was ten years ago, and more than six years before the onset of the 2022 invasion — Kalb replied:

“Whatever would satisfy the immediate
national interest of Russia.”

Which is precisely what we are seeing today.

The lesson: Don’t rely on the know-nothings— the Trumps, the Witkoffs, and the others who never did and never will understand the history or the soul of the Russian people. Look to the real experts, who have the accumulated knowledge and expertise that only comes with a lifetime of study and on-the-ground experience.

And mark their words.

Just sayin’ . . .

Brendochka
11/21/25

He’s doing it again: that little dance, where he twirls you gracefully around the floor for a while, whispering sweet nothings into your ear about a future of endless possibilities, and then . . .

W H A M !!!

He stomps on your toes like a bull elephant galumphing across the African savanna. And you know you’re going to be out of commission for a while longer.

I am, of course, talking about the Fred Astaire of the Kremlin — old Twinkle-Toes Putin himself — who long ago mastered the art of the two-step:

Step One: He pushes as hard as he can to maintain the lead position until his dance partner gets tired of following.

In real-life terms, that has involved bombing the hell out of Ukraine for nearly four years, while insisting that he will only quit when all of his demands have been met.

His partner then counters with a few moves of their own.

In this case, these amount to sanctions, more sanctions, and threats of even greater sanctions.

Step Two: He backs off, loosens his grip on his partner’s hand and waist, and implies that perhaps they should lead for a while.

What that really means, however, is that he’s buying time to continue waging his war of attrition, increasing the attacks until the people of Ukraine can’t take any more, as he lulls his partner into a brief period of complacency.

The partner responds by showing him a few “new” steps . . . or, if that partner is Donald Trump, a list of 28 talking points for negotiations that sound eerily like the same talking points that have been failing for the past four years.

*. *. *

And he’s playing the same old tune again now. Faced with major sanctions against Russia’s two largest oil and gas giants, Vladimir Putin suddenly hinted that he was open to new discussions with the West. And the West — or, rather, the U.S. in the person of Donald Trump — took the bait.

First we learned that a top-level Pentagon delegation, headed by Army Secretary Dan Driscoll, had arrived in Ukraine on Thursday, “on a fact finding mission to meet with Ukrainian officials and discuss efforts to end the war.” [Alayna Treene, Kevin Liptak and Matthew Chance, CNN, November 20, 2025.]

Then it turned out that this is just one part of a White House effort to reopen negotiations with Moscow, and that U.S. Secretary of State Marco Rubio and U.S. special envoy Steve Witkoff have been “quietly” working on a proposal for about a month. According to White House Press Secretary Karoline Leavitt, they have been consulting both sides “to understand what these countries would commit to in order to see a lasting and durable peace.” [Laura Gozzi and James Chater, BBC, November 20, 2025.]

Leavitt added — without providing further details — that: “It’s a good plan for both Russia and Ukraine. We believe that it should be acceptable to both sides. And we’re working very hard to get it done.” [Id.]

Ukrainian President Zelensky wrote on X: “The American side presented points of a plan to end the war — their vision. I outlined our key principles. We agreed that our teams will work on the points to ensure it’s all genuine.” [Id.]

But . . . and remember, with Russia there is almost always a “but” . . . Kremlin spokesman Dmitry Peskov said that there had been “contacts” with the U.S., but there was “no process that could be called ‘consultations.’” [Id.]

And he warned, for possibly the hundredth time, that there would be no peace deal without addressing the “root causes of the conflict” — Russia’s thinly-veiled reference to its unchanging list of demands that would amount to surrender on the part of Ukraine. [Id.]

*. *. *

And meanwhile, the attacks continue, the most recent being Wednesday’s missile and drone strike on two blocks of apartments in the city of Ternopil, in which at least 26 people were killed — including three children — and another 93 wounded, of whom 18 were also children.

And we’re supposed to believe that Putin wants to discuss a peace plan, when what he is really doing is two-stepping his way to a victory in Ukraine, thereby gaining 20 percent or more of Ukrainian territory, and leaving the once proud, sovereign nation a shrunken, disarmed, toothless tiger, vulnerable to whatever he has planned for the future.

We don’t know what is in the Trump proposal — which, by the way, was prepared and presented without participation by European allies, according to EU foreign policy chief Kaja Kallas. But rest assured, if it isn’t to Putin’s liking, it will end up in the trash with all of the previous efforts.

So, as another cold, dark winter settles in, we can only pray for a miracle. Maybe Donald Trump has finally come up with a winning formula; or perhaps Vladimir Putin will suddenly grow a conscience.

And maybe pigs will fly.

Just sayin’ . . .

Brendochka
11/21/25

Which is where I am today.

No energy, no enthusiasm, no words . . . and no blog. Maybe tomorrow. But for now,

Just not sayin’ . . .

Brendochka
11/20/25

Hannah Arendt saw it coming.

A Jewish intellectual born in pre-World War I Germany, she fled her country in 1933 when the Nazis came to power, crossing illegally into Czechoslovakia and eventually settling in Paris. And when the Nazis invaded France, she was interned, but escaped and made her way to Portugal, and finally to New York in 1941.

To her, as horrific as the brutality and wholesale slaughter inflicted by the Nazi regime had been, the even greater menace of totalitarian rule had been seeing the people — even before the advent of the extermination camps — gradually swallowing the incessant Nazi lies and propaganda until they stopped trying to determine what the truth really was, and accepted the inevitability of what was happening to them and their countries.

And she wrote about it in 1951, publishing an analysis of how Nazi Germany and Stalinist Russia had destroyed freedom . . . how, before dictators can succeed in solidifying their power, they must first alter the minds of the people, overwhelming and exhausting them with an endless barrage of lies and half-truths until there is no fight left in them.

She summed it up in one sentence that is chillingly applicable to our world today, where artificial intelligence and seemingly authoritative social media posts are so convincing that reality and truth blur and eventually become amorphous:

“The ideal subject of totalitarian rule is not the convinced Nazi or the dedicated communist, but people for whom the distinction between fact and fiction, true and false, no longer exists.”

– Hannah Arendt, “The Origins of Totalitarianism”

We can’t pretend we haven’t been forewarned. What we do with the information is up to us.

Just sayin’ . . .

Brendochka
11/20/25

On November 19, 1863, in the midst of a civil war, Republican President Abraham Lincoln delivered an address at the dedication of a military cemetery at Gettysburg, Pennsylvania, where one of the bloodiest battles of the war had taken place just four months earlier.

That address has stood the test of time — 162 years — for a reason. In fewer than 275 words, Lincoln summed up what this nation stood for, and why it was worth defending.

For those who were not required — as my generation was — to learn the address in its entirety in elementary school, allow me to quote just a portion of it here, on this anniversary day:

“Fourscore and seven years ago our fathers brought forth on this continent, a new nation, conceived in Liberty, and dedicated to the proposition that all men are created equal.

. . .

. . . that this. nation, under God, shall have a new birth of freedom — and that government of the people, by the people, for the people, shall not perish from the earth.”

“ . . . conceived in Liberty . . . all men are created equal . . . government of the people, by the people, for the people . . .”

Sometimes we need to be reminded of the meaning of those words. Now seems as good a time as any.

Just sayin’ . . .

Brendochka
11/19/25

Kurt Vonnegut was an American author best known for his satirical and darkly humorous commentaries on American society, arguably the most famous being his sixth novel, “Slaughterhouse-Five.”

In 1965, before the great success of “Slaughterhouse-Five,” Vonnegut had published his fifth novel, “God Bless You, Mr. Rosewater, or Pearls Before Swine” — a satire centered around a multi-millionaire who develops a social conscience and establishes a foundation “where he attempts to dispense unlimited amounts of love and limited sums of money to anyone who will come to his office” . . . leading his family and friends to conclude that he has obviously lost his marbles.

But Vonnegut himself was the furthest thing from crazy. In fact, he may have been something of a prophet, some 60 years ahead of his time, when he wrote this:

“Thus did a handful of rapacious citizens come to control all that was worth controlling in America. Thus was the savage and stupid and entirely inappropriate and unnecessary and humorless American class system created. Honest, industrious, peaceful citizens were classed as bloodsuckers, if they asked to be paid a living wage. And they saw that praise was reserved henceforth for those who devised means of getting paid enormously for committing crimes against which no laws had been passed. Thus the American dream turned belly up, turned green, bobbed to the scummy surface of cupidity unlimited, filled with gas, then went bang in the noonday sun.”

– Kurt Vonnegut, “God Bless You, Mr. Rosewater”

Does that strike a familiar chord for anyone? Yup . . . for me, too. Let’s just hope we don’t all go “bang in the noonday sun.”

Just sayin’ . . .

Brendochka
11/19/25

I suppose if the Hiltons could do it, the Trumps are entitled to their hotel chain as well. But do they really have to be so ostentatious? And isn’t there — or shouldn’t there be — some moral imperative against doing business with dictators and tyrants? Or using threats and coercion (i.e., sanctions and tariffs) to get the deal you want?

Apparently not when there is enough money, and oil, at stake.

Word has it that the Serbian government has — against the wishes of a very vocal segment of the country’s citizens — established a joint venture with a property development company owned by Donald Trump’s son-in-law, Jared Kushner, to demolish an historic building site in Belgrade dating back to the conflict with Kosovo, to be replaced with a glitzy, five-star hotel/apartment/museum complex.

In an effort to gain relief from U.S. sanctions against Serbia’s national oil company due to its majority stake being owned by Russia’s Gazprom and Gazprom Neft, the country’s president, Aleksandar Vucic, has been cozying up to the Trump administration in spite of his friendly relations with Vladimir Putin and his accelerating crackdown on independent media and and civil rights.

So when Kushner came calling, Vucic pushed through a law removing the cultural designation of the existing complex and permitting demolition work to proceed “in a manner that is satisfactory” to Kushner’s company, Atlantic Incubation Partners LLC. The deal with Kushner includes a free lease of the land for 99 years, with an option for the lease to be converted into full ownership. [Julian Borger, The Guardian, November 13, 2025.]

Serbia is not a member of NATO or the EU, though it has been working toward EU membership. Vucic is another of those world leaders — like Turkiye’s Recep Tayyip Erdogan and Hungary’s Viktor Orban — trying to maintain a balance between East and West, with varying degrees of success. And for a country that is one of the poorest in Europe, a deal like this with Kushner would be a huge windfall for Serbia . . . well, for Vucic, anyway.

And what would it mean to Kushner? If nothing else, it would buy him a lot of brownie points with daddy-in-law, who would benefit politically and — let’s face it — financially as well. Because, while the oddly-named Atlantic Incubation Partners may legally belong to Kushner, where dynasties like the Trumps are concerned . . .

. . . it’s all in the family.

Just sayin’ . . .

Brendochka
11/19/25

Jamal Ahmad Hamza Khashoggi was a Saudi Arabian author, journalist and dissident who opted for self-imposed exile in 2017 because of his opposition to the policies of the Saudi government and its rulers, King Salman and Crown Prince Mohammed bin Salman (popularly known as MBS). Khashoggi wrote articles critical of the Saudi regime for a number of publications, including the Washington Post.

In October of 2018, he entered the Saudi consulate in Istanbul, Turkiye, to obtain documents required for his upcoming marriage. He was never seen leaving the consulate, and it was later determined that he had been killed and dismembered there. Intelligence reports concluded that the murder — eventually admitted by Saudi Arabia’s attorney general as having occurred — was ordered by Mohammed bin Salman himself.

Today, MBS was an honored guest of Donald Trump at the White House, where he was greeted at the South Portico — not merely at the Pennsylvania Avenue front entrance with a presidential handshake and an appropriate welcoming committee — but by U.S. military troops riding horses and carrying the flags of both nations, accompanied by drum rolls and blaring trumpets, and a fly-over of six jet fighters.

Also on the agenda for this evening is a star-studded dinner (too bad the new ballroom isn’t ready yet), followed by a business-focused conference tomorrow at the Kennedy Center. U.S. officials have said they will be discussing a multibillion-dollar investment in America’s AI infrastructure, cooperation on civil nuclear energy, and plans for Riyadh’s investments into the U.S. economy. [Alexander Ward and Michael R. Gordon, Wall Street Journal. November 18, 2025.]

But to me, the highlight of MBS’ arrival was Donald Trump’s statement as he stood next to the Crown Prince and was asked by the press about the Khashoggi killing:

“You’re mentioning somebody that was extremely controversial. A lot of people didn’t like that gentleman that you’re talking about. Whether you like him or didn’t like him, things happen.”

And then, turning to MBS, he added, “But he knew nothing about it.” [Id.]

“Things happen.” What things? Just the murder and dismemberment of one annoying journalist? Or maybe we should talk about September 11, 2001, when 19 hijackers — of whom 15 were Saudis — took the lives of nearly 3,000 civilians in New York, Washington, and Pennsylvania.

“Things happen.” That’s been the attitude of every murderous despot the world has ever known: a casual shrug, and, “Oh, well . . . c’est la guerre.”

Or, as Josef Stalin said: “The death of one man is a tragedy; the death of millions is a statistic.”

“Things happen.”

Just sayin’ . . .

Brendochka
11/18/25

Young people don’t think much about old age. They see an elderly couple holding hands and they think, “Oh, aren’t they cute!” Or they may hold a door open for an older person, or offer to shovel the snow from their aging neighbors’ front walk.

But the older you get, the more you are forced to think about it — not about dying, necessarily, but about living with your deteriorating self. About things lost: friends, hair, memory, libido; and things found: belly fat, a hiatal hernia, wrinkles.

The other day, I stumbled across the perfect comment on the aging process by English author, screenwriter and critic Martin Amis, to share with you today:

“And meanwhile time goes about its immemorial work
of making everyone look and feel like shit.”

– Martin Amis, “London Fields”

And that, my younger readers, is what you have to look forward to.

Just sayin’ . . .

Brendochka
11/18/25

So there I was, on the first day of school in a new city, a new part of the country, and no clue as to where I was supposed to catch the school bus. There were no websites to instruct us in those days, and my mother’s attempts to reach the school board had failed because they were closed until the actual opening day of classes.

That morning, with my only information being the street corner where the bus stop was supposed to be located, I headed out on my own as my mother and sister left for work. It was just a couple of blocks from our apartment, and as I neared the intersection, I saw two groups of school kids, one decidedly younger than the other.

Approaching the older group, I asked two girls standing together whether I was in the right place. They said yes, and became my two best friends throughout the next three years. It was just dumb luck.

Let me say here that I hated high school. I did well scholastically, but socially, I bombed. In New Hampshire, the two-year age gap hadn’t made any difference. But these teenagers were more sophisticated than my small-town friends had been, and I never did fit in. I wasn’t teased or bullied; I was just the smart, shy, younger-than-everyone-else girl on the sidelines.

And I was in the Commercial/Business course . . . not the Academic/College course with the cool kids.

That may need a bit of explanation. Back then, high school students had to choose among three curricula: College, Business, or Vocational/Technical. We all had to take the basics — English, History, Math, Science — but with specific additional classes geared toward our likely career paths.

Vocational courses at the time were for the benefit of the scholastically-challenged students, and included Shop for the boys and Home Economics for the girls (although there were some girls in Shop and vice-versa, but not much was said about that in those days).

I had made my choice — enrolling in Commercial courses — because of our family situation. My sister Merna had had to leave college and give up her dream of becoming a teacher when our parents separated. We three women were living on their two salaries: my mother’s as a bookkeeper, and Merna’s as a secretary. And I had reasoned that I was going to have to join the wage-earners after high school, so I made the decision — ultimately both good and bad — to prepare for a job. I needed to learn to type and take shorthand.

I know . . . I know. In today’s cyber world, where three-year-olds are computer literate as if by magic, that sounds strange. But back then, those were highly marketable abilities. And it turned out that I was good at both, winning awards in my senior year.

But after three years of honing my skills, I was still just 16 years old, and looked all of 14. Who was going to hire me? So I made a deal with my mother.

We were doing all right financially, thanks to her ability to squeeze six cents out of every nickel, and she offered to send me to our state school — the University of Maryland — but with some conditions. First, she could only afford tuition, but not board, so I would have to live at home and find a way to commute, as we didn’t have a car. Second, I was still somewhat shy, and UMD was a huge, rather overwhelming campus, where I felt I would have been lost in the crowd.

And third — and most important — was the fact that I would still be living, and going to college, partially off of my sister’s wages . . . the sister who had sacrificed her own education to help support us. I couldn’t do it.

So the deal was that I would look for a job, and if I didn’t find one within a few weeks, I would apply to UMD.

I would have considered going to work for the government, but I was still too young to take the Civil Service exam. So a friend of my mother’s referred me to a lady who ran an employment agency in D.C., and she sent me out on my very first job interview with one caution: She had told them I was 17, not 16.

Lying was so much easier in the days before computerization of all our personal data.

Unbelievably, three days after graduation I was hired as secretary to a junior partner in a small but prominent Washington, D.C., law firm. They were desperate for qualified help, so they took a chance on me. I stayed there for seven years. And after three years, on my 19th birthday, I finally told them the truth and we all had a good laugh.

And that was my next step in the lifelong process of character-building. That job — working with professionals, learning to love the law, learning to curse, learning to drink — and most importantly, learning to love learning for its own sake — turned a shy 16-year-old into a gutsy, self-confident, outspoken adult.

But was the decision to forego the four-year college experience a mistake?

Well . . . yes and no.

To be continued . . .

Just sayin’ . . .

Brendochka
11/18/25