It was announced over the last couple of days that the Russians landed a transport plane in Caracas bearing military equipment for the embattled Maduro regime. It also contained the overwhelming allied force of, count ‘em…one hundred troops.
Oh no! Almost a full company! What-ever will the 82nd Airborne Division do?
Vlad sent these boys over to prop up the tottering Bolshie dictatorship. But sending them in this paltry number is a bit too cute even for Vlad. There are just enough of them to populate a medium-sized holding cell, or to easily vamoose if the going gets sporty. Recall, we recently fought cheek to jowl kinda with/kinda opposed to the Russians in Syria. There were a whole lot more of them there than have recently flown into Venezuela. Nevertheless they weren’t exactly a deterrent to our actions. Same rule applies now.
Vlad really can’t get over the demise of the USSR. So he, granted expertly, plays his deuces like queens and gets away with a lot. But the reality is the Russians are a second-rate power at best. Kind of like 1920s Chicago with oil and nukes.
Now don’t get me wrong. There are certain aspects of his domestic imperial rule I like. The no-nonsense wrapping himself in church and flag, and his little patience with anything smacking of Western PC idiocy, is quite endearing. And boy, the resurrected Holy Russia does pomp and ceremony with flair and flourish. I even occasionally hang out in DC at Russia House, my favorite czarist watering hole. On a typical weekend night you can climb to the third floor vodka bar there, be force-fed Beluga Gold martinis by young Russian diplomats and, I can personally assure you by this shining example of my peculiar talent, this can ensue.
Surprised I didn’t get a subpoena from Bob Mueller.
So yeah, not exactly a hater when it comes to Putin’s regime. But then, I don’t have to live there either.
Next time, let’s hope Vlad thinks better than to send another slightly upgraded Ruskie Boy Scout troop anywhere near where there might be shooting going on. Bet it looks nice in the controlled Moscow press.
Everywhere else, smacks of too little about thirty years too late.