Hard Power vs. Hard Power

This morning I read the news about Trump’s missile strike on the Syrian air base. Despite the horror of the chemical attack I was totally surprised Trump would turn against Assad, who is an ally for Russia–to which apparently the approach would be different to the previous administration. But then I started strolling on the chemical attacks and I couldn’t even see through the images as I was about to throw up (I am very sensitive to blood and even more to deformations and illness). Assad is really unforgivable. So Trump did something strong but enormously thought. He told Russia what he intended to do and Russians were moved out of that air base. Then his missiles hit the air base. Friends prevented, he acted. So he defended those poor hit civilians not losing friendship with Moscow. Putin is tied up into his alliance with Assad and couldn’t act anyway. Despite Putin condemning the actions–the media’s version–I think the truth lies elsewhere. Trump has billions invested in Russia and his Secretary of State was awarded the Order of Friendship by Putin himself. So there’s no way Putin didn’t know about the attack in its precise details (Trump already revealed it would retaliate, we knew he was organising it in the Pentagon last days). Thus the truth about Trump and Putin lies elsewhere. Medias can act and say whatever they want as usual, but they are disgraceful and they would better be not listened to at all (in fact my website is in construction, and will be aimed to make fun of official information). Truth is that crimes such as Hitler’s and Assad’s can’t be tolerated–we can’t keep someone like this just because “he holds his country in shambles.” We can’t kill him either–that’s why killing Khadafi was idiotic and unfair. All the international community must criticise Assad, and I am sure Putin does too but can’t be overt about it. It’s just like World War II and Nazism. We are all at risk and Russia is moving its position again to fight for the Ally side. And split its share of world order again. Will it be multipolar then? There is the most subtle and exquisite diplomacy on game here and we are very lucky to have Trump and Putin to take care of world order. Even if it will end up with a nuclear bomb, finally we’ll stop with our civilians killed. We must give safety back to our capitals–a city like Stockholm, where Nobel prizes are given, should never be hit! Furthermore, Swedish are not dicks as French! We should be curious and not at all frightened–unless indeed we travel into capitals, but sure it will change. By now I enjoy my approaching degree in the sun of Italy and my beautiful Queen-life in the English countryside–with a gap for Easter in luscious French Riviera.

And as my website’s posts must be for laugh and not cry, let’s laugh at Antonio Razzi and his selfie with Bashar al-Assad. After his declared friendship and admiration with Kim Jong Un indeed a selfie with the other world tyrant was what an Italian minister was requested to do… to brag on his friends.


There is a grammatical error that follows his reply to critiques on Twitter that makes everybody envious too of not having studied and attained something such as his post in the Parliament nevertheless…

Places, Politics

I could easily have been there…

But I was not. 

It’s shocking to see a place where you have a lot of happy memories – on skates with my parents as a child, on romantic and chilly Sunday promenades etc. – shaken by a horror like this. It’s shocking to know that I could easily have been there with a group of friend, and for sure faces I crossed on the streets are not on this Earth anymore. That even if all of my friends are safe, some of them lived the attack, another one jumped on the beach with dead kids behind and some other lost their friends. I’m tired to write posts on terrorism and on the beauty and bliss of feeling safe in Israel. But I can’t retain myself. 

I’m angry. Angry of Europeans not understanding and talking of tolerance, of France with its miserable controls. I’m sorry to say I was right fearing Nice (yes, I wouldn’t have been there as yesterday I had a feeling something would happen in France on July 14th), right of being always  so paranoid  to almost never get out of Monaco area (with this I mean Rocquebrune to Villefranche, 2km2 are an exaggerately small golden cage). 

How couldn’t the police think that something would have happened on their national day? How that truck driven by a French Tunisian could enter the Promenade des Anglais? How long are we waiting to enter the Israeli method? There’s no space for tolerance, there’s no space for stupid flags on Facebook’s profile picture. 

France is not my dreamy romantic land anymore, some bastard who shouldn’t be permitted to be called French destroyed it… Even if the French sky is red of innocent blood, I must keep away with this souvenir:

A blue sky,warm weather, a happy family on skates running for kilometers and finally enjoying a Crepe suzette at the end, or a hot chocolate in the luxurious hall of the hotel Negresco.