It’s Saturday.
There is so much to talk about, the mind reels.
Florida hybrid pythons, for example; now it’s not just the creepy old snake neighbor across the street (who refuses to die off, even as he pushes 90, and in fact thrives all the more, if I cast dirty looks his way) that I need to keep an eye on.
Or the Guardian, now casually referring — to paraphrase Eliot Cohen in his new piece in The Atlantic — to the poster incubus of bombastic senility as “an unindicted co-conspirator in a federal crime.”
A falsely buoyant US economy that is a few idiotic tweets away (I’m waiting for the announcement that Trumpo has decided to nuke Iran and North Korea simultaneously, as a distraction, after ordering the FBI to arrest Mueller for sedition) from a major correction that would most likely wipe away any post 2016 gains for retail investors dumb enough to keep riding the bubble.
Meanwhile the pig cuts another $200 million from aid to the Palestinians, as the UK wobbles like a drunken sailor, with a no-deal Brexit looming.
Where even to begin?
I must not drift like a loggerhead in the Jet Stream detritus of bad news, but instead remain true to the noble purpose of this inspiring blog — namely, how a sexagenarian such as myself maintains his sanity, despite a world that’s constantly changing for the worse.
Here’s a completely embarrassing vid by the Rascals, now no longer young, that underscores what I mean.
Let me focus on Egypt, instead, where this time last year, I was two weeks away from spending 7 months in the dust bowl resort town of El Gouna.
Earlier this week, a couple from Lancashire, John Cooper, 69, and his wife, Susan, 64, were vacationing at the Steigenberger (this, or some close variant, seems to be the name of every other fucking hotel along the Red Sea) Aqua Magic Hotel in Hurghada (the same pitifully Third World town where a naive young UK woman named Laura Plummer was arrested not that long ago and is still languishing in jail, while retiring UK ambassador to Egypt John Casson idly stood by and did nothing) on the Red Sea died suddenly within hours of each other.
The Egyptian political hack and death-head skirt known as Rania Al-Mashat, who is the country’s American-educated Minister of Tourism, was right quick to determine their death was simply due to “natural causes.”
Natural causes; nothing more.
First the husband croaks, perhaps from monoxide poisoning, then the wife kicks the bucket – within hours of one another. Completely normal, or aa’di, as Egyptians are wont to say about absurdities that are passed on as ordinary events.
Only Natural Causes, according to the slimeball government mouthpiece know as Al-Ahram — the story rapidly being buried, as the hours tick by,
Will this be the death knell of Egypt’s tourist failing industry?
I hope so, if that is what it will take to permanently loosen the viselike deathgrip the army has had on Egypt since 1952.
The question is, will the various flacks and TripAdvisor idiots who blithely shill this mosquito-infested coast as some kind of a “Red Sea Riviera” ever develop a conscience or, in the latter’s case, actually know anything real about the country they are so keen on pimping?
Will Karim Benzema, as an act of solidarity, give back the money he was paid to promote Red Sea tourism?
Will Theresa May order the Royal Navy to blockade and shell Hurghada, like the English used to do when Brittania ruled the sea, until Tramadol Laura is freed by her dark captors?
Probably not, particularly as there will always be plenty of low life Russians and Eastern Eurotrash and working class Brits willing to fly to the Red Sea for a song, despite the inherent risks.
Meanwhile, many members of the Egyptian diaspora – for example, this PhD. student in Germany – are afraid to return to their own country for fear of being “disappeared” at Cairo airport once they land.
I know the feeling.
Probably 90 per cent of Egyptians (particularly males) under 30 (by my own estimate, and I am never wrong about anything) would be willing to emigrate to Europe at the drop of a hat, if given half a chance.
To top it off, Egypt just passed draconian “cybercrime” legislation (you can read about it here, in Mada Masr, a publication that is blocked inside of Egypt by Sissi’s cowardly and paranoid regime, that, like the Orange Clown’s fecal administration, despises a free press that shines the disinfectant of sunlight on the machinations of corrupt turdballs) that in effect cripples any ability of Egypt’s ordinary citizenry to even sneeze at the presidency of Peepee Pasha, without risking huge fines and lengthy jail terms in solitary confinement.
Egypt is a sick, dying society that presently will have no future, if things continue this way much longer.
Sissi — or is it Isis spelled backwards? — is a sort of political whore, who is giving away Egyptian land to the Saudis, in return for dubious baksheesh “investment” deals with the Saudis and unconscionable accommodations with Bibi and his violent, racist Zionist band of Arab-hating land grabbers.
All Peepee has to do is say MB, and the Americans will give his precious army enough tanks and dollars (which these ertswhile “generals” of course skim off the top) to continue suppressing the Egyptian people.
I urge all tourists, particularly wealthy Germans, Brits, Italians, French, and Spaniards to boycott Egypt and thus help bring this whore ruling claque to its knees.
Spending Euros in this cesspool of a country is the equivalent of tacitly supporting fascism, and prolonging the exodus to Europe by those who seek freedom and economic opportunity.
Fuck Sissi and his tribe of vile enforcers and state supported parasites.
Maybe out of their ashes will rise a free nation that will no longer feel compelled to turn itself into a vast prison camp, as the elites party the night away in mindless vacations havens such as El Gouna (surrounded of course by a vast security apparatus to keep the bearded ones away), while the rest of Egypt tries vainly to survive in a collapsing, hyper inflationary economy, where only the corrupt and already wealthy do well.
So what does your truly, the humble sexagenarian do amidst all this faouda?
Simple.
Perhaps the MTA says is best: if you see something, say something — silence implies assent, and I, like millions of others, will no longer acquiesce. Even if few read this blog, at least it is one voice, that might lead to another, and another, and yet another, until this shit all comes to a stop.
Trump and his supporters will not go down without a fight, and I am afraid that it looks like it will require a convincing reckoning — which I for one hope will be via fair elections and unflinchingly courageous legal means, rather than, say, duels at sunrise with malicious overlords and the racist peasantry who tend their vast dominions — for things to substantially change.
The differences in the American body politic may seem too vast, too unbridgeable.
But we must never rest until tyrants such as Sissi and Trump and others of their ilk are permanently removed from positions of power, and humiliated to such a degreee that others will think twice before attempting this sort of malevolent crap again.
Will any of this seeming pipe-dream ever transpire?
John and Susan Cooper, to name just two, will never know.
I hope our fate shall differ, in that regard.
Leaving Amerika 