Ksenia Karelina is free!

One of our hostages is returning home following a quiet exchange that took place earlier today in Abu Dhabi, UAE.

More details to follow in my weekly hostage status report on Sunday . . . but for now, I just wanted to share the good news and to celebrate Ksenia’s return to freedom.

And to say thank you to all who made it possible.

Just sayin’ . . .

Brendochka
4/10/25

Three years gone, and the pain has not diminished. I doubt it ever will.

You fought the good fight for 26 years, and made this world a far better place with your brilliance, your humor, and your loving kindness. You couldn’t save everyone, but you did touch so many.

Rest well, precious angel, knowing that you are missed and loved forever.

All my love, always,
Nana

“So wise so young, they say, do never live long.”
– Shakespeare, Richard III, Act 3, Scene 1

Today marks the second meeting in Istanbul between U.S. and Russian delegations to discuss normalization of operations in their respective diplomatic missions. The meeting is to be attended by Russian Ambassador to the United States Aleksandr Darchiyev and U.S. Deputy Assistant Secretary of State for European and Eurasian Affairs Sonata Coulter.

State Department spokeswoman Tammy Bruce told reporters on April 8th that there would be no political or security issues discussed at the meeting, and stressed that the war in Ukraine would “absolutely not” be on the agenda:

“These talks are solely focused on our embassy operations, not on normalizing a bilateral relationship overall, which can only happen, as we’ve noted, once there’s peace between Russia and Ukraine.” [RFE/RL, April 9, 2025.]

And my question is: Why bother?

If this meeting is strictly about returning our embassies to full operational status . . . while overall normalization of relations depends first and foremost on a lasting peace in Ukraine . . . then this trip to Istanbul is nothing more than an opportunity to partake of some good Turkish food.

Because back in Ukraine, Russian assaults at the front have heated up to the point where, according to Commander of the Ukrainian Ground Forces Oleksandr Syrskyi:

“For several days, almost a week, we have been observing almost a doubling of the number of enemy attacks in all main directions [on the frontline].” [Reuters, April 9, 2025.]

In addition to the recent massacre of civilians, including nine children, at Kryvyi Rih, a Russian offensive has begun in the regions of Kharkiv and Sumy. And Russian troops are said to be close to pushing Ukrainian forces out of the area Ukraine has occupied in the Kursk region (across the border from Sumy) since last August. [Id.]

Could it be any more obvious that Vladimir Putin has no intention of bringing this devastating war of attrition to an end in the near future? His endless stalling of negotiations, constantly changing or adding to his demands, are an undisguised ploy to allow him time to gain more and more territory that he will then claim as his own, all the while weakening Ukraine’s bargaining position.

So the diplomats might just as well have saved themselves the trouble and expense. I hope they at least enjoyed the lunch.

Just sayin’ . . .

Brendochka
4/10/25

It’s not particularly surprising — though always unnerving — to suddenly be confronted by someone like this on the streets of Moscow, St. Petersburg, or virtually anywhere in Russia. They are members of OMON — military special police — and they are not known for their restraint.

But to see masked enforcers — even unarmed — suddenly materializing on the streets of American cities, towns, or college campuses, and whisking people off in unmarked vehicles is, to say the very least, horrifying.

This is what happened during Stalin’s purges in the Soviet Union, and Hitler’s extermination of Jews in Nazi Germany. We just don’t do that here.

Or we didn’t, until this year, when xenophobia became rampant in Washington’s halls of government, and a well-orchestrated roundup of “undesirables” and “idiots” (Secretary of State Rubio’s word for protesters) was begun.

The wholesale deportation of immigrants was well underway when we began hearing of individuals — legally in the U.S. on student visas — being snatched from their daily routines to be sent back to their various countries without notice and without cause, other than being from the “wrong” country, or simply having said something that someone in Washington didn’t like.

In some cases, the people doing the snatching have been masked and otherwise unidentifiable, allegedly for their own protection from retribution.

And if that doesn’t sound like a giant step toward full-out fascism . . .

Just sayin’ . . .

Brendochka
4/9/25

It’s not what you may be thinking . . . it’s just a visit, and by only two of the ten members of the expatriate Feenstra family. Unexpectedly, it’s Mom Anneesa and son Wesley who have made the long trek back to their lifetime home in Saskatchewan, Canada, to surprise Anneesa’s parents.

After an exhausting journey, changing flights in Turkey, they arrived somewhere in Canada — presumably at the Saskatoon Airport — where they were met by the previously mysterious oldest son, whose name we now know is Ben, and who was in on the big secret.

Then there was a long drive through the still-wintry countryside with a stop for lunch, and a drive-through at “something Russia doesn’t have” (Anneesa’s words): one of Tim Horton’s chain of famous coffee shops. They also made time to drop by a sporting goods store, where they looked at jeans and other clothing items, and Wesley showed off his new sneakers. It made me wonder if they’d thought to get those hard-to-find size 15s for Arend . . . but they didn’t mention it.

Needless to say, the reunion was a loud and emotional one with Anneesa’s parents, and at some point the filming stopped to allow everyone to catch up, and finally to get some much-needed sleep.

*. *. *

The second installment began a day or two later, with brothers Ben and Wesley renovating a bathroom at their grandparents’ farmhouse. We finally learn that the main reason for the trip is that the older couple are preparing to sell their farm and make a “life change” — presumably retiring to a less strenuous lifestyle — and Anneesa wanted desperately to see one more time the home in which she had grown up, and to help her folks with the transition.

Filming time has been limited since their arrival as Anneesa frankly admits she is not used to being the one in front of the camera . . . not to mention the fact that they’ve been busy just being together. But taking a little time out, the grandparents did treat everyone to a local hockey game.

We next are introduced to other members of the family: Anneesa’s two older sisters, who similarly had no idea she was coming to visit but had arrived for what they thought was a routine visit to their parents’ home. And for me, a comment by one of the women, as she hugged her baby sister for the first time in over a year, perfectly answers a question that has been in my mind since the day the Feenstras arrived in Moscow: What about the family they’ve left behind? And that sister’s comment was:

Second only to the overriding issue of what the future holds for the eight children now living in Russia, the most baffling question has been how they could leave their two families (including their eldest son) behind, not knowing whether they would ever see each other again. And, observing the obvious closeness of this family, I still don’t know the answer.

*. *. *

Thus far, there has been no indication as to how long Anneesa and Wesley will be staying in Canada, and I’m hoping there will be more details soon, or at least when they return to Russia and recap their adventure.

In the meantime, I remain curious — and more than a little surprised — as to how this trip was possible at all. The Feenstras’ legal status in Russia is still that of “temporary residency,” and I would have thought . . . although admittedly I don’t know for sure . . . that they would be under some out-of-country travel restrictions. Perhaps their celebrity standing, and the fact that they were leaving eight members in Russia to ensure their return, had something to do with it.

As with Arend’s trip to Georgia with daughters Cora and Ariana last month, this is great propaganda for the Russian government . . . a visible sign to the world that emigrating there might not be such a bad idea after all. Nevertheless, I’m happy that this reunion was possible for them.

I do have to wonder — although another person’s financial situation would normally be none of my business — who covered their travel costs. The cheapest flight I found for a round-trip from Moscow to Saskatoon via Turkish Airlines was $2,800 per person.

Still, I’m glad that Anneesa was able to see her parents and sisters once more, and I wish them a great visit and safe return. Looking forward to the next installments, I am, as always . . .

Just sayin’ . . .

Brendochka
4/9/25

I believe my readers (all eight or ten of you) will be excited to know that I am just about to eat my first Spotted Dick.

All right, children . . . that’s enough snickering. You know perfectly well, from the tales of my recent obsession with all things British, that this is what I mean:

I had long ago spotted this item in my local supermarket in suburban Washington, D.C., but was frankly too embarrassed to pick it up, walk around with it in plain sight in my cart, and then have to face the cashier at the front of the store.

I’ve tried ordering it from the market where I now shop, having moved to another part of the country, but apparently the good people of the southern U.S. are not into Spotted Dick. I consider that to be their loss.

When I did an online search of one upscale local market, they didn’t know what I was talking about either; however, this is what came up as possible acceptable substitutes:

I thought about trying the “Creamy Dreamy” just for fun, but got hung up on wondering what twisted artificial intelligence thought the Spot Shot stain remover, Cat’s Pride kitty litter, extra-large Dude Wipes (use your imagination), and Always Discreet incontinence panties might be in the same category as a sponge pudding. (“Sponge,” by the way, being Britain’s name for a light, airy cake, which actually does make sense.)

But recently, I discovered that Amazon — yes, good old “Whatever it is we’ve got it and if we haven’t got it we’ll get it for you” Amazon — carries a different brand of it:

Now we know that Spotted Dick is a “steamed pud.” I’m sure you’ve figured out that a “pud” is short for “pudding” . . . but did you also know that, to the British, the term “pudding” covers a wide range of desserts, whereas in America a pudding is a thick, gloppy, viscous, milk-based dessert, and other desserts have their own specific names, like “pie,” “cake,” or “cookie.” (Actually, I believe a British cookie is called a “biscuit,” but that’s a whole other issue.)

Do you see why I’m so intrigued by the British? They speak an entirely different language!

Anyway, I was delighted to find that Aunty has a Spotted Dick (restrain yourselves, please), and I hastened to order just a single two-pack to satisfy my curiosity. When it arrived the very next day, I read the package, which turned out to be an education in itself.

The instructions were simple enough: remove the foil top from one cup of S.D., nuke on high (1,100-watt microwave) for 30 seconds, invert cup into bowl, squeeze and lift the little cup off the pudding, and enjoy. Okay . . . got it.

It was the list of ingredients that left me gobsmacked (there I go again!). You see, in the U.S., our laws require all ingredients in prepared foods to be listed in a specific way; but it is assumed that we don’t necessarily need — or want — to know what each ingredient is, or what it is likely to do to our bodies. Not the natural stuff, like flour, sugar, or milk . . . but those mysterious last items, like “xanthan gum.”

And I don’t know whether it’s also required by British law, or perhaps Aunty just decided to do it on her own, but the package from my Spotted Dick contained far more detail than I had ever expected (or hoped) to see. Allow me to elucidate:

After all of the recognizable ingredients, which are real food, we have Sodium Bicarbonate and Disodium Diphosphate. These are identified as “raising agents.” The first one I know as “baking soda”; the second one was, until today, a complete mystery. Actually, I think they should be called “rising” agents, not “raising,” because they obviously are responsible for making the batter “rise” when heated. “Raise,” I believe, is a transitive verb, which means it must take an object, so what are they supposed to be raising . . . the dead? I think not.

Anyway, on to that Xanthan Gum, which turns out to be a “stabilizer.” That’s good . . . because there’s nothing worse than an unstable Spotted Dick.

Next came Calcium Chloride, which is identified as a “firming agent.” Actually, I would have thought that was some sort of fitness trainer, or perhaps a miracle face cream, but what do I know?

For preservatives, we have Sorbic Acid and Alcohol. Aha! Now we’re getting somewhere. I know several people who are well preserved with alcohol, but they don’t usually bother adding it to food; there are much quicker ways . . .

At this point, it gets even more confusing, so I’ll copy it for you, verbatim, from the package:

“Acidity Regulator (Lactic Acid), Natural Flavouring, Emulsifiers (Mono- and Diglycerides of Fatty Acids, Polyglycerol Esters of Fatty Acids, Non Soy Lecithin.”

Discounting the natural flavoring (don’t even get me started on the differences in spelling of that word), the rest of the list seems to indicate that the manufacturers add fatty acids and esters of fatty acids, but first they make sure they’ve included an “acidity regulator” to . . . well . . . presumably to regulate all those fatty acids, including Ester’s (whoever she is).

And if that Lecithin is “non soy,” then why won’t they tell us where it does come from? Don’t we need to know that as well? It could be from eggs, and if you’re vegan, that would be a problem.

After completing this tutorial in nutritional chemistry (if there is such a thing, because it actually sounds like an oxymoron to me), I then noticed a section in all capital letters, beginning with “CAUTION.” Well, I’m not stupid, so of course I went on reading because my life might be in danger here:

“CAUTION: REMOVE ALL THE FOIL LID BEFORE HEATING IN THE MICROWAVE. IF ANY FOIL REMAINS [there should be a comma at this point, but there isn’t – ed. note] DECANT INTO A BOWL. PUDDING WILL BE HOT AND STEAMY.”

That is, if the piece of foil hasn’t caused your microwave to explode, in which case you’ve got bigger problems than a steamy hot pudding.

God, I love the British!

Just sayin’ . . .

Brendochka
4/8/25

P.S. Just ate my first Spotted Dick, and the verdict is . . .

The Soviet-style mass roundups — not in Russia, but in the United States — of “undesirables” for deportation to foreign penal colonies isn’t horrific enough. Nor, apparently, is the refusal — in blatant violation of a federal court order — to bring back those who were actually legally in the country to begin with.

Now — in a revolting display of pandering to a man who, in the guise of president, has already created a worldwide economic and political conflagration that would have made Emperor Nero look like a pussycat — the U.S. Supreme Court has refused to reverse the illegal actions, and has actually extended the lower court’s ordered deadline for the deportee’s return.

I am, of course, talking about the case of Salvadoran national Kilmar Armando Abrego Garcia.

Despite the fact that White House attorneys have conceded that Abrego Garcia’s deportation occurred “because of an administrative error” (and where have we heard that excuse recently?), the Justice Department (DOJ) is claiming that any such order from the Supreme Court requiring his return would be “unprecedented.”

According to Solicitor General D. John Sauer in a Supreme Court filing yesterday: “Even amidst a deluge of unlawful injunctions, this order is remarkable. The Constitution charges the president, not federal district courts, with the conduct of foreign diplomacy and protecting the nation against foreign terrorists, including by effectuating their removal. While the United States concedes that removal to El Salvador was an administrative error … that does not license district courts to seize control over foreign relations, treat the executive branch as a subordinate diplomat, and demand that the United States let a member of a foreign terrorist organization into America tonight.” [John Fritze and Devan Cole, CNN, April 7, 2025.]

Well, that certainly sounds authoritative . . . but that doesn’t make it entirely correct. And it doesn’t take an attorney, a lifelong student of the U.S. Constitution, or even a merely reasonably intelligent civilian such as myself to punch holes in that argument.

So, where to begin? How about this one: We’re not actually talking about “foreign relations” in this case, are we? There are no treaties, no trade agreements, no negotiations to end a war, no matters of dispute between our government and a second country. This is a simple case of yet another Trump administration fuck-up (don’t forget SignalGate) — this one yanking an innocent man from his family, forcing him onto a plane back to a country where his life is in jeopardy and from which he fled and received asylum in the U.S., and now refusing to bring him back because it is . . . what? . . . Difficult? Embarrassing? A bother?

Oh, and that “foreign terrorist” tag the DOJ hung on him? It’s been disproven. Abrego Garcia has lived in the United States since 2019 under a ruling by an immigration judge that he could not be deported to El Salvador because a gang there was “targeting him and threatening him with death because of his family’s pupusa business.” No connection to any terrorist organization or other gang was ever proven against him. And, for the past six years, he has regularly checked in with immigration officials, and has never been charged with a crime. So . . . another untruth. [Id.]

Third, in this case it is not the courts that are trying to “seize control over foreign relations [or] treat the executive branch as a subordinate diplomat.” On the contrary, it is the executive branch that has usurped the powers of the judiciary by repeatedly ignoring and overruling federal court orders, which seems to me a blatant violation of the separation of powers of the three branches of the U.S. government as provided in the Constitution.

In a perfect imitation of his boss, Trump adviser Stephen Miller posted on social media last week — referring to U.S. Judge Paula Xinis’ order to return Abrego Garcia to the United States:

“Marxist judge now thinks she’s president of El Salvador.” [Id.]

White House Protocol #4,378: When in doubt — and absent actual facts — just start name-calling.

And that, my fellow Americans, is the mentality of the people running our country. Or rather, running it into the ground.

But when DOJ attorney Erez Reuveni was asked under oath why Abrego Garcia couldn’t be returned to the U.S., and he didn’t have a cogent response, he said honestly:

“The first thing I did when I got this case on my desk is ask my clients the same question.” [Id.]

Not incidentally, both Reuven and his supervisor have since been placed on leave. Welcome to George Orwell’s 1984.

*. *. *.

If you had told me a year ago that this is where we would be today, I would have laughed at you. I’m not laughing now.

Just sayin’ . . .

Brendochka
4/8/25

Kryvyi Rih, Ukraine – April 4, 2025. An early spring weekend. Children are enjoying time with their friends and families in a playground. Nearby, a birthday party is in progress; in a restaurant, a group of adults attend a beauty industry seminar . . .

. . . until the cluster bombs hit, leaving 20 civilians — 9 of them children — dead, and more than 70 others seriously wounded.

Twenty innocent civilian lives — again, NINE of them CHILDREN — wiped out in a brutal attack on civilian infrastructure . . . all while Vladimir Putin sanctimoniously continues to insist that he wants nothing more than peace.

The Russian military has claimed that the restaurant was hosting a meeting of military units and foreign advisers, making it a legitimate target . . . despite all evidence to the contrary. And according to Kremlin spokesman Dmitry Peskov, speaking at a press briefing today (which also happens to be the first designated day of mourning for the victims in Kryvyi Rih):

“ . . . no strikes are carried out on social facilities and social infrastructure.” [RFE/RL, April 7, 2025.]

United Nations human rights chief Volker Turk had this to say:

“The use of an explosive weapon with wide area effects by the Russian Federation in a densely populated area — and without any apparent military presence — demonstrates a reckless disregard for civilian life. Even if the Russian authorities had had information that military personnel could be present, the mode and circumstances of attack may constitute an indiscriminate attack.” [Id.]

So what would Vladimir Putin have us believe . . . that the civilians were merely collateral damage, so they don’t count?

If you are hearing echoes of Josef Stalin and Adolph Hitler, be assured . . . you are not imagining things.

Just sayin’ . . .

Brendochka
4/7/25

As most of my readers — all six or eight of them — are Americans, let me explain. David Mitchell is a British actor/comedian whom I have only recently discovered through the magic of BritBox TV, which I received as a gift from a friend this past Christmas. (The gift was a subscription to BritBox . . . not David Mitchell himself tied up with a big red bow. Although that would have been nice too.)

So there I was, mindlessly scrolling through the list of British shows I’ve never heard of before, in search of something that didn’t involve serial killers, psychopaths, or incestuous relationships. And there was an advert (that’s British for “ad”) for a new show titled, simply, “Ludwig,” starring this rather ordinary-looking chap with a graying beard, a hairline disturbingly reminiscent of Adolph Hitler, and absolutely mesmerizing dark eyes. I had already missed the first three episodes, so I hastened to catch up.

A brief synopsis: Oddly enough, the principal protagonist, played by Mitchell, is not named Ludwig; he is, instead, James: a brilliant mathematician and puzzle-solver, rather quirky and introverted (a gross understatement), whose identical twin brother — a more normal fellow named John who is a police inspector — has mysteriously disappeared, leaving a warning note for his wife and son to do the same instead of taking them with him.

But rather than take the hint, the wife engages her brother-in-law to try to find John, because he’s smarter than the entire Cambridge Police Department, and because she’s afraid to let them in on John’s secret, which she doesn’t know in any event.

So James — shy, nervous, slightly OCD, and with no crime-solving expertise whatsoever — takes on the persona of his brother and . . . although by the third episode he still has no clue as to his sibling’s whereabouts . . . begins solving other crimes for the police, using his skills as a puzzle-solver.

Well, by this time, I am irretrievably hooked on this completely improbable premise. But this is a weekly show, so I have to wait until the following Thursday for the fourth episode . . . and I still have no idea why the show is even called “Ludwig,” other than the fact that its background music consists mainly of Beethoven compositions: specifically, his Fifth Symphony (BA-BA-BA-BUM!), and “Ode to Joy” from the Ninth, used alternately depending on the mood the directors are trying to set for the specific scene.

Are you with me so far?

No? Well, you’d better catch up, because we’re off again . . .

*. *. *

By S1/E4 (Season 1, Episode 4, in case you’re not into TV serials), I have decided that David Mitchell — the real one, not the fictitious James, or John, or Ludwig — is my kind of guy. His facial expressions, while mostly serious or even totally blank, are hilarious and spot-on (another Britishism — I’m really getting into those). And he’s sweet. But more importantly, he’s very smart and he corrects people . . . little factual errors, or incorrect suppositions, and — my personal favorite — their grammar!

Okay, I know I’m basing this on the Ludwig character and imparting that imaginary person’s traits to a real-life individual. But don’t we all do that? Haven’t you ever believed that, say, John Wayne was an honest-to-goodness cowboy hero? So just stay with me here, because I’m coming to the good part.

*. *. *

Now it’s between Thursdays, I’m waiting for the next segment of “Ludwig,” and I’ve already watched every episode of 23 seasons of “Midsomer Murders” so many times I actually remember who the incestuous, psychopathic mass murderer is in every single one. So I go program-surfing again, and I feel the need for a laugh, and I settle on some sort of comedy-quiz-panel show called “Would I Lie To You?” And in the picture accompanying the description of the show, I spot a familiar face.

(Don’t all raise your hands at once; you know I’m going to say it’s David Mitchell.)

*. *. *

I’m not ordinarily a huge fan of quiz shows because, whether I know the answer or not, I find it frustrating to (a) not actually win the prize when I’m right, or (b) be proven inadequately informed, yet again, when I’m wrong. But — come on, now! — it’s David Mitchell, so I have to give it a go. And there are multiple seasons of this show, so maybe there’s something to it.

And by the end of the first half-hour segment, I’m laughing so hard I’m practically wetting myself.

Quick tutorial: There is, of course, a moderator (Rob Brydon), plus two panels of three celebrities each: the regular two team captains — David Mitchell and Lee Mack — and a rotation of four celebrity guest panelists. They are given the most ludicrous situations to describe and enlarge upon as though they were true, and the opposing team tries to determine truth from lies.

It sounds simplistic . . . and, in fact, it is. But these people are so quick, so funny, and so unfiltered, that they get themselves into uproarious exchanges having nothing whatsoever to do with anything. Yet — and just when you’re thinking none of it is true and it’s all just a load of tosh (British again) — one of the stories turns out to actually be . . . true.

And I think to myself: “My God, I’ve led a really dull life!”

I mean, seriously. I’ve had some bizarre experiences over the years — some genuinely funny, others merely embarrassing (haven’t we all?) And I’ve even written about a few of them. But it’s a wonder some of the people on this show haven’t been locked away years ago, for their own safety.

And yet it’s not slapstick. Somehow, British people manage to make even the most outrageous insults sound like compliments, leaving you wondering what just happened. Either it’s an innate part of their charm, or they’re all complete hypocrites . . . but whatever it is, it works for me.

Now, the guest panelists consist of a wide variety of personality types: some perfectly normal (whatever that is), others a bit on the wild side. And in the midst of all of the verbal mayhem sits one who looks and speaks more like an Oxford professor than an actor: straight-faced, mostly serious (even when he’s joking), correcting other panelists’ errors, and occasionally — but not too often — cracking up.

And that, of course, is David Mitchell.

So I’d like to thank him for coming into my life at exactly the right time — when I most needed a few good belly laughs. It’s a scary world out there, and sometimes I just have to shut down the news reports, grab a snack and a beverage, and tune into a couple of hours of BritBox to rescue me. Because otherwise, I’d be in a rubber room by now.

It’s cheaper than therapy, you can do it by yourself or with a friend, and you don’t need a prescription for it. I highly recommend it.

Thank you, David.

Just sayin’ . . .

Brendochka
4/7/25

Imagine that you are a citizen of a country that has been invaded by a much larger, stronger aggressor, and have barely managed to survive bombardments, missile and drone attacks, and the incursion of land forces in order to escape to another country — a safe place where you can be sheltered until the war ends and you are able to return to your home to begin rebuilding.

Then imagine receiving an email notice from your host country — which you have considered to be your safe haven, your guardian angel, your savior — that you have just seven days to pack up and get out, and where you go and how you manage it are your own problem.

And it was two days after April Fool’s Day, so you’re pretty sure it’s not some sort of a sick joke.

Well, thanks to the Washington Brain Trust, that’s exactly what happened last week to a number of Ukrainians — legally in the U.S. under a Biden-administration humanitarian parole program — who had nowhere to go and no time to make arrangements for themselves and their families.

The message, which was designated a “notice of termination of parole,” said simply: “It is time for you to leave the United States. . . . Do not attempt to remain in the United States — the federal government will find you.” [Jessica Dean and Kaanita Iyer, CNN, April 5, 2025.]

The fact that the notice was followed the next day by another email advising that the first one had been sent “in error” can never erase the trauma that the recipients endured when they believed that their lives were once again being upended. They were told the second time around that “no action will be taken . . . the terms of your parole as originally issued remain unchanged at this time.” [Id.]

“ . . . at this time.”

In light of the mass deportation of migrants being undertaken by the Trump administration at this very moment, the initial message must have seemed doubly threatening. And which one should they believe? Even if the second notice — the correction — is true, what does it mean by “at this time”? What might happen tomorrow, or next week?

The Department of Homeland Security (DHS) has now confirmed that the “parole program has not been terminated,” and stated that there are no plans to end the program. But the psychological damage has already been done.

According to Angela Boelens, president and founder of IA NICE, an organization created to help sponsor Ukrainian families: “This shocked everyone that received this.” She spoke of two women — one with an infant and the other pregnant — who contacted them and “were just immediately terrorized. They were crying, calling their sponsors, saying, ‘What did I do?’” [Id.]

Boelens said, “It’s actually left us with more questions than what we had before. We’re asking ourselves as sponsors and as a community, you know, ‘Who wrote this letter? Why was it written in such harsh terms?’” [Id.]

“Who?” and “why?” indeed!

*. *. *

Coming, as it has, on the heels of SignalGate, wherein — just in case any reader has actually been able to forget that unprecedented disaster — a reporter was mistakenly included on a conference call with top defense and security officials concerning an imminent attack on Houthi rebels in Yemen, who knows what to believe any longer . . . other than the fact that the inmates are actually running the asylum in Washington!

And you think the “Cuckoo’s Nest” was scary?

Just sayin’ . . .

Brendochka
4/6/25