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"Tin soldiers and Ice is coming,......"It goes back before the PATRIOT Act. Anyone else remember Kent State? Though now we apparently have the possible scenario of the Minnesota National Guard siding with protestors against the ICE goons.
That's the problem. No, they don't.Anyone else remember Kent State?
Remembering history in general seems to be a weak point with Americans (and, to be honest, Canadians) any more. Maybe because of my classics background and general interest in history, I see lots of parallels for the mess in the US and none of them suggest a good outcome.That's the problem. No, they don't.
At least, not enough of the right people.
I keep thinking of this song:Remembering history in general seems to be a weak point with Americans (and, to be honest, Canadians) any more. Maybe because of my classics background and general interest in history, I see lots of parallels for the mess in the US and none of them suggest a good outcome.
LEst we forget:That's the problem. No, they don't.
At least, not enough of the right people.
Neil Young has given Greenland free access to his music catalogues for a year as a gift of love and he is boycotting Amazon from his music because of billionaire Jeff Bezos backing trump with his money. Last year Neil Young introduced a new song called , "Big Crimes" about Trump and his administration.I’ve seen independent stuff on social media. Jesse Welles got wide traction through YouTube. That’s how it’s done these days.
The Board of Peace and Other Hallucinations:
We were somewhere above the Alps, the air thin with money and moral rot, when Donald J. Trump announced the Board of Peace, and at that precise moment reality finally threw up its hands, muttered “I’m done,” and wandered off into the snow to die.
Trump stood there at Davos like a deranged cruise director at the end of history, chest puffed, hair defying both gravity and decency, declaring that he had assembled the greatest board ever created.
Greater than the UN. Better than diplomacy. Bigger than God. Possibly capable of bending time.
Certainly capable of generating revenue. You could hear the billionaires purr.
This was not a press conference. It was a sales pitch delivered on ketamine, aimed at men who haven’t seen a civilian since the Reagan administration.
Trump talked and talked, wild claims spilling out like coins from a busted slot machine, inviting people in, kicking people out, uninviting Carney mid-sentence like a mob boss reshuffling the seating chart at a funeral banquet.
Peace, he said. Peace everywhere. Peace like you’ve never seen before.
And behind him, hovering like ghouls at an open grave, were the real stars of the show: the developers.
The Map: A Crime Scene Disguised as a Brochure
Not a map of people. Not a map of suffering. Not a map of graves, hospitals, or children burned into concrete.
No. This was a developer’s map, the kind you see in airport lounges just before someone explains how “the area has enormous upside. ”Zones. Corridors. Opportunities.
Kushner and Witkoff leaned over it like two morticians discussing beachfront potential. They spoke in hushed tones about “future investment,” “redevelopment,” and “unlocking value”, as if Gaza were an abandoned shopping mall instead of a live massacre being rebranded in real time.
You could almost hear the internal monologue:
Once the screaming stops, this place is going to be incredible.
This whole obscene carnival rested on a ceasefire that was never a ceasefire, more like a strategic pause for branding purposes. Bombs still falling. Palestinians still dying. But the word ceasefire was floated into the air like a scented candle to mask the stench.
Trump’s unspoken premise, the one everyone at Davos understood instinctively, was simple and brutal:
Harass them enough, starve them enough, bomb them enough, and eventually they’ll leave. Somewhere else. Anywhere else. Preferably off the map entirely. Then comes peace. Then come the cranes.
This is what happens when language collapses completely.
War becomes security.
Ethnic cleansing becomes stability.
Mass displacement becomes relocation.
And now genocide-adjacent real estate speculation becomes peace.
If Orwell had lived to see this, he wouldn’t have written 1984.
He’d have blown his brains out in the lobby bar and left a note saying “You animals took it too far.”
The Board of Peace is not misnamed by accident. It is misnamed by design.
In Trump’s America, now fully exported, words don’t describe reality, they bully it into submission.
Let’s drop the pretense. This board isn’t about peace. It’s about who gets the land after the smoke clears.
This is gangster capitalism at its purest:
No uniforms. No ideology. Just opportunity emerging from rubble.
The same people who couldn’t point to Gaza on a map last year are now circling it like vultures with MBAs, sniffing out resort locations, data centers, and “secure luxury housing”, a phrase that should make your skin crawl.
The UN, for all its uselessness, at least pretends that human beings matter.
Trump’s board doesn’t bother. It goes straight to the spreadsheet. And Trump, plays his role perfectly. He is the high priest of the void, blessing the slaughter with a grin, selling peace the way he sold steaks, universities, and casinos: loudly, dishonestly, and to people who should know better but don’t care. He doesn’t see Palestinians. He sees empty land with bad PR. He doesn’t see history. He sees underperforming assets.
And Davos eats it up, because nothing terrifies the elite more than actual peace.
The kind of peace that doesn’t make money.
Final Diagnosis:
The Board of Peace is a scam so naked it should be illegal to describe it with a straight face.
It is a crime scene with a logo.
A land grab wearing a dove pin.
A real estate seminar conducted over mass graves.
If there is a future tribunal, and God help us if there isn’t, this board will be remembered not as diplomacy, but as the moment the mask finally slipped, when the world’s most powerful men stopped pretending that peace was about people and admitted it was always about property and profit.
Trump didn’t invent this sickness.
He just named it, trademarked it, and sold tickets.
Beneath the snow-covered Alps, reality died, while the vultures argue over who gets the best view.
“He just named it, trademarked it, and sold tickets”
This is true. The problem is those who believed this was a good idea, and thereby amplified the sickness - and then made him King Superspreader. It makes a significant difference in our ability to do something about that sickness.
We are all aware of his type of sickness. The problem was in giving him power.
Yeah. It is.It is bothersome to understand and thus folk remain superficial ... on top ???? That's unreal ...