Author Richard Cahill's Website--Living By Our Motto:"There Are No Stupid Questions, Just Stupid People Asking Questions Everybody else already knows the answer to."

Ukraine is calling out for volunteers to fight alongside its forces, and while some Americans have responded, the most prominent bearers of arms among us, and the loudest voices against tyranny in our midst, are strangely quiet now that an actual opportunity to fight for freedom is presented to them.
 
Grim-faced men of many nations are flying to Ukraine as I write this, to face off against the Russian aggressors, but none of them are Proud Boys, or 3 Percenters, or Oath Keepers, or anybody else among what I like to call the Fat Boys for Freedom are among them. Or, if they are, they’re keeping a low profile.
 
Could it be that it’s one thing to sneak attack the US Capital when you outnumber the cops ten to one, with an eye to hanging a bunch of unarmed, elderly politicians in suits and heels, which, admittedly, you’ve already proved yourselves dismal failures at, but another thing to face off against an actual armed enemy? I don’t see this as a strong argument for your bravery. The Russian army is more dangerous than whoever it is you are defending yourself against when you open-carry your AR-15 into a Walgreen’s, but, as per the available evidence, not much more.

And don't be whimpering that the US government advises against you fighting in the 'Kraine. Since when do you guys take orders from the Deep State?
 
It's true your supply lines are going to be stretched thin. The European Union does not allow Little Debbie snack cakes to be imported into their continent. The French made sure of that. Loaded nachos are served in very few restaurants in Ukraine. Expect your fellow freedom fighters to look at you blankly when you ask them if they’ve ever had turducken.
 
Whether you will be able to carry Trump and Confederate flags into battle is a difficult question. On one hand, the Ukrainians are winning the battlefield by using sneak attacks and unconventional tactics, and it’s tough to be sneaky when you’re waving a flag the same size as a IHop sign on the interstate.
 
On the other hand, the Russian army, frostbitten, starving, and running out of bullets, may see you as allies. They need help in the worst way, and when they see those Don’t Tread on Me flags and hear the roar of your monster trucks, they may well feel that Tucker Carlson himself has tired of repeating Russian propaganda from his comfy studio in New York and come to the battlefield, knife in teeth, to save them. You may hear them crying “Приди и спаси нас Такер Карлсон!”* and you’ll mutter to yourself “What the hell are them people trying to say?
 
They’re trying to say they’re on your side. And you know what? They probably are.

* Pridi i spasi nas Taker Karlson, or Save us, Tucker Carlson!

There are no doubt many complex geopolitical reasons for the war in Ukraine, but no matter how complex or geo they are, they will probably not be solved by shelling kindergartens and hospitals.
 
There is, however, another reason for the war, one not often mentioned, and that reason is waved like a banner by the Russian Orthodox Church, which supports Putin and the war, which is that Ukraine permitted gay pride parades.
 
Patriarch Kirill, the head of that Church and sometimes referred to as the Russian Pope has divided the world into two, unreconcilable camps of nations—those that allow gay pride parades (Ukraine) and those that do not (Russia, where a Moscow court recent upheld that city’s 100-year ban on gay pride events).
 
This is the kind of law and order that really juices up the Patriarch. In his mind, it supersedes all other differences between nations. Democracy vs. authoritarianism, socialism vs. capitalism, rice-eaters vs. potato peelers—all the possible sources of international discord pale compare to the gay pride parade divide, according to Kirill.
 
It’s hardly necessary to say that the Moscow-based Pontiff is way different than the current regular Pope, who is a genial old guy who has already let gays into Heaven, where, one assumes, they can parade eternally. Kirill is much more Old Testamenty, a wrath-of-God type Pope. He dresses the part too. Maybe he hates gays because some of them have criticized his fashion choices. “I wouldn’t wear a kitchen tablecloth with a crucifix stuck through it on my head, girlfriend, but you go,” is something one might hear on Queer Eye for the Orthodox Clergy. Or “That beard that looks like the corpse of a small mammal decaying on the steppes—let’s just sacrifice it to this can of Barbasol.”
 
So, out there in the vasts of Russia, there is a Church that thinks that allowing gays to exist and parade the fact that they do out in the open, is a sacrilege that justifies sending teenage conscripts to shell unarmed civilians. Dead babies and demolished hospitals are the price their God demands to stomp out the sin of gayness, or at least drive it into hiding, kind of like the Soviet Union tried to abolish religion, only to find it couldn’t be done.
 
Same thing going to happen with gay. Count on it, Patriarch.

​During the Presidency of the Caucasian-in-Chief, it was widely assumed by the wisest of pundits, and also me, that Vladimir Putin was an evil genius and Trump was his gullible tool. All signs pointed to it—after putting his hacky little thumb on the scale of the election in 2016 to get Trump into the Oval Office, Putin led Trump around by Trump’s fake-tanned nose for the duration of his White House years, getting Trump to crap all over institutions Putin didn’t care for, like US intelligence services and NATO.
 
In their cozy little confabs, with no one else present and the translators forbidden to keep copies of what was said, we cynics always assumed that Trump was spilling state secrets and Putin was telling Trump how to really monetize running a country, a subject the Simon Bar-Sinister of the ex-Soviet Union knows well.
 
Now that Russia has invaded Ukraine, which, thanks to President Uncle Joe, surprised exactly no one, Russia’s murderous midget has been exposed for what he is, which is frighteningly stupid. He and Trump weren’t playing three-dimensional chess with each other—they were playing Go Fish.
 
They still have different styles—when Trump got rid of somebody like his Secretary of State or his Attorney General, he blistered them with ad hominem attacks—“weak,” “stupid,” “not up to the job.” If his critic was female, he usually added “ugly” or “fat.” When Putin wants to get rid of a detractor, he usually gives them a radioactive high colonic.
 
But now the Ukraine war has shown us their similarities. Apparently, there is a Russian My Pillow guy, someone who told Putin, “Da, the Ukrainians will welcome the Russian army with flowers, free vodka and virgins. They are tired of being ruled by a comedian and would welcome the strong embrace of a little dictator whose facial expressions are limited to smug and extra smug.”
 
There’s a Michael Flynn in Moscow, too. He’s the one who told Putin, “The Russian Army is the swiftest, most powerful on Earth. There is no possibility that when you give the order to invade, its first strategic thrust will be to get itself stuck in a 40-mile-long traffic jam in which all tanks are running out of gas. The Ukrainians will throw away their weapons and surrender when confronted by pimple-face teenage conscripts who weren’t even told they were going to war. There is no chance that Russia’s fighting forces will be exposed as maybe unable to defeat the combined might of Estonia and Costa Rica on the battlefield. There will be no need to hire veteran war criminals from the Middle East to try to desperately win even a single battle.”
 
The Sidney Powell of the Kremlin was is by Putin’s side as well. “It’s fake news those Ukrainian farmers are stealing our tanks. It’s a lie that the Ukrainians have more Stingers than a barn full of wasp nests. It’s only the lamestream media that claim that Zelensky is more popular worldwide than you like a nice bubble bath is more popular than getting acid thrown in your face.”
 
They were all there, sitting at one of Putin’s ridiculously long tables, when the tiny troll made the decision to invade. I wonder how he expressed it?
 
What’s “Release the Kraken!” in Russian?