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Putin Calls for Russians to Have 8 Kids and Wants More Military and Religious Training in Schools
You keep waiting for the bottle of vodka to run out, but it seems he has a bottom-less one
Bruce Springsteen, in concerts, often tells about the glow of the lone cigarette in the dark kitchen. Behind the cigarette sat a drunk, angry father mumbling something about how the world had dealt him such a bad hand: “Look at my son with hair down to his shoulders like a girl,” he would growl.
Many of us have seen such men, grandfathers, fathers, uncles, brothers — maybe even some of us during rough patches in life — fighting the demons of failure, loneliness, drunkenness, and, as they say in Russian, “the cockroaches” in the head.
The cockroaches whisper conspiratorially, “She did that on purpose. He doesn’t respect you. They think you are stupid.” The anger is switched on. Glass after glass of the nectar of choice, the concoction starts to percolate. Families, friends, and wives, who often transition to ex-status after one run-in too many, learn to avoid the silhouetted figure in the downstairs kitchen.
The above scene reminds me of Vladimir Putin today. The sick, puffy-faced mass murderer and kidnapper is no longer in touch with reality. Despite having…
