Obama Goes Full Kafka with Russian Sanctions
Inhabiting a bizarre universe in which the village lynches an accused murderer as his alleged victim nearby struggles to shout that he is alive and well, the US government in the person of Barack Obama has fully crossed the line into the Theater of the Absurd. Obama has restarted the Cold War over a figment of his official imagination.
It was not bad enough that grown men and women were painting sloppily over the wall called Journalism with the broad, dripping brush of "fake news." Now the lunatics have truly taken over the asylum, and are monkeying with the diplomatic protocols and checks which sit atop 10,000 nuclear warheads. True, the elaborate system of steam valves, outlets, and lock mechanisms are designed to be monkey-proof. Still, one cannot help but get nervous watching the trolls and gremlins climb around and shake this lever and that.
Julian Assange himself has said that there is no connection between the leaked DNC and Podesta emails and the Russians, and keeps yelling as if into a hurricane wind: 'Don't worry where they came from, look at what they say!'
What would Assange know? He only published the damned things in the first place. His organization knows more about hacking and leaks than the NSA and the CIA put together. It wasn't a hack, it was a leak. No one had to steal them. Someone gave them to us. Someone gave them to Assange, and Assange knows who it was, and he says it wasn't Russia. Are we back to "read my lips?"
But the villagers keep winding up the noose and looking for an appropriate tree to hang their chosen victim from. In this case, the victim may be world peace.
Franz Kafka could not have dreamed of material like this, brilliant as he was. Kafka was doubtless smart enough to know that his imaginary excursions into human foibles and depravity could never match the real thing.
Or cripes! One of them found a stick of dynamite!
The lunatics are kicking this door and that, pushing buttons recklessly which has already led to an international incident. Get them away from there, one sane man whispers to another. I don't care how you do it. Just get them away.
