Thank heaven for the activists – masters of Ukraine boosterism whose fantasies of a better way come tumbling down on vlogs, during seminars and in newspaper articles with hardcore obsequiousness. They are admirable. They are energetic. They work up a sweat at the edges of convention, then smash on through with the earnest fecklessness required for The Washington Post.
The defective ammo story has been kicking around for, er, the last two months, but having just watched another fawning blowjob for Z (that sound you hear is the knees of Stuart Ramsay hitting the floor as he genuflects before the great man), there’s no time like the present for at least $500 million worth of mortar rounds which fizzle and don’t go pop1.
Since I happened upon the above nugget a few hours ago I’ve been trying to write something about it, but I’m giving up. Satire is drained of any purpose on the same planet as Olena’s expertise about Ukraine’s military industrial mess.
Tomorrow, Christmas, is moving day, the start of a days-long process of getting rid of stuff.