From Dima In East Ukraine

I’ve been receiving a lot of email communication from folks in Ukraine so I’ve decided to post one from Dima in East Ukraine. Compare and contrast it with what The Saker over at The Vineyard of the Saker is providing in regards to “analysis.”

Dear Mr. coldenfeld,

You are with much thanks for yor blog catcher of fly. joy is much you bring to me and mine for said things yor blog. The Sucker of the barnyard of the forsaken is evil man. Hell will he go. he is dirty liar. Comments to suckers ugly blog too liars. No respect they have ukrainians. Russians think they better. Russians not better Ukrainians. All equal. most russians liars.

ukrainians not fighting ukrainians. Russian want Ukrainians kill ukrainians. Ukrainians won’t. russia send murders to ukraine to kill ukraines and blame Київ. these mercenary are enemie. me family and neighbors kill them when we get chance. ask that all ukraines do same. kill invaders from russian. they want kill us. we protect our people. we not like kill. but we kill to protect ukraines. to protect home. to protect town. to protect city. to protect country.

we share much russia with. In lot of common. share culture. but not same. like. not exact match. we not mind russian neighbor. we not want be russia. russia stay in russia borders. ukraine stay in ukraine border. Ukraine not russia. never.

news not truth. not so much fighting. people shop. ukraines go to work. ukraines live normal. sometimes gunfire. not so much. sometimes smoke and booms. not so much. russian mercs all places. just appear. not from here. We kill them one by one. butcher them like pigs. putin send. little man must pay. Uses Ukrainians as shields. cowards. hide behind women and children. provoke Київ attack ukraines east. blame on Київ.

airstrike was putin. not ukraine jets. russian missiles. blame Київ.

ukraines not must let russian win. russian and putin cheaters. cowards. play dirty. never believe russian. some honest. only few. most liars.

Many young want free ukraine. old ones like russian. think better pension. putin lies. pensions not be better. old ones listen not. young ones help kill russian mercs. chechens love war. they only know murder. come to ukraine to murder. we kill them. one at a time now. soon three four five six more at time. they will leave. in body bags. in coffins. go home cowards. don’t come cowards.

thank you mr. Coldenfeld understanding. lies everywhere. No one true. we talk soon.

your friend,


Wow! This pretty much underscores everything I’ve been saying all along and it corroborates this latest Daily Beast article. Per the link:

Mom and Pop on Ukraine’s Battle Line

As separatists fight to open up a secure corridor to Russia, peace-loving families find themselves thrust into the middle of a worsening civil war.

Almost every night the civil war comes right to the doorstep of the Ivanovs’ house and hits the core of the couple’s deep contradictions: she, a Ukrainian, adores Russia and he, a Russian, is a Ukrainian patriot, sympathizing with the pro-European Maidan revolution. But their political views do not matter now. A local hospital, where both Tatyana and their daughter, Yulia, work as nurses, receives wounded every week, both from the ranks of Ukrainian border guards and from rebel forces. At home, war has focused their attention on that most Ukrainian of treasures: a larder of homegrown preserves.

On Sunday night, both spouses woke up first at 2:00 a.m. and then again at 5:00 a.m. because of artillery shelling. Holding hands, they thought about what to do about their life on the front line, on Mira Street in the town of Amvrosyevka.

The Ivanovs are not naïve people; they realize that their cozy, beloved house is sitting just a few miles away from the Russian border, next to gas pipes, the world’s energy arteries and cause of modern wars, right between a Ukrainian paratroopers’ base and a camp of pro-Russian rebels fighting for the control of the Donetsk highway—another strategic objective unfortunately near.

Since last week, fighting has grown increasingly fierce near the Russian border, suggesting rebels want to open a corridor. On Monday, at 4:00 a.m., rebels attacked a base of Ukrainian troops in the Mirny district of Luhansk. A local woman, Yana Osadcha, said that first she heard rifle shots and explosions, then military jets began to circle over her neighborhood.

“We heard aviation attacking both of the terrorists’ checkpoint on the highway between Luhansk and the Russian border,” Osadcha told me. “There was a big explosion at the seized administrative building—pro-Russian rebels say Ukrainian jets fired at them and the Ukrainian military deny that. Finally, many people hope the rebels will be smoked out of town.”

The explosion on the fourth floor of the seized Luhansk administration building killed five people. On the video posted by, rebels were collecting the remains of their friends. Earlier on Monday, the Russian parliament supported a proposal by the foreign ministry to create “humanitarian corridors” for civilians who want to flee Ukraine.

After 2:00 p.m., the shootings quieted down in Luhansk, and local reports said that rebel snipers occupied roofs and apartment buildings in Yuzhnoye district, not far from the Ukrainian base.

Meanwhile, in the Ivanovs’ home town of Amvrosyevka, local rebels from the self-proclaimed Donetsk People’s Republic, supported by volunteers recruited from Russia, attacked border guards and soldiers from the 25th Paratroopers Brigade.

“We’ve entered the stage of a real guerilla war,” said Alexander Chernikov, a former journalist from Dnepropetrovsk, who is now serving as an officer with the border guards. “The radicals are focused on the border troops right now, fighting to create a green light from Avakovo on the border with Russia, to Luhansk,” he told The Daily Beast on Monday.

As Tatyana and I talked about her family’s future, her beautiful smile faded from her face. She described the way she and Igor watched the Donetsk flag go up and down the flagpole in front of their window. “Every May 9 I was watching the Victory Day parade on Russian television feeling proud of Putin, and hoping the happy Soviet times could return,” she said, “but not at this price, not at the price of Ukrainian people’s lives.”

As a nurse, Tatyana said, she despises the horrors of war and the violence visited on the bodies of the people she sees. She misses the times when she and Igor threw parties for 30 people in their front room, she said. So many things are missing now, first of all peace.

Igor grew more emotional as we spoke. Like many others in the breakaway Donetsk Republic, he criticized the leaders for their confused ideas: first, they pushed for federalization and an independent republic as a part of Ukraine, and now they stand for some even more confusing idea, of a new state called Novorossia, that Igor has trouble understanding. “If they raised a Ukrainian flag on that flagpole, many more people would have joined their movement—we could be pro-Russian but still remain patriots of Ukraine,” he said.

The future for Ivanov’s family and millions of other families in the eastern regions of Urkaine called Donbass becomes more uncertain by day.

The Kremlin clearly did not want to annex Donbass, as it did Crimea, perhaps because a majority of Russians in Russia reject the idea. Polls by the Levada Analytical Center show the number of Russians sympathizing with the idea of making the Donbass breakaway republics a part of Mother Russia shrank from 35 percent in April down to 26 percent in May. Yet Donbass will not be left in peace, either.

I have to say, I don’t blame Dima and his neighbors for killing these cowards. Take a look at that scumbag in the picture at the link. I’d kill him too — immediately. He is no good. An invader. Like the Nazis in Denmark. If you’ve never seen the excellent Danish movie Flame and Citron, you must. Here’s a clip to give you a taste.

The Danish Resistance didn’t take it sitting down. They fought back with everything they had at their disposal with hardly any help from the outside world. The same predicament the East Ukrainian Resistance is confronted with now in Russia’s proxy invasion and occupation. The outside world doesn’t have their backs. They’re going to have to do it alone, but at least some like Dima are taking a stand to protect what is rightfully their’s. It’s not as though Obama & Company are going to help. They’re playing their part in this Kabuki Theater to destroy Ukraine — or to allow Russia to destroy it and turn it into vassal mafia statelets run by murderous, cowardly thugs. This article from The Washington Post sums it up nicely. All you have to do is read between the lines. Remember last post when I said Russia has a backdoor to controlling American policy via Israel and its lobby? Well, it sure does explain the following per the link:

The West shows no willingness to defend freedom against Russia

UKRAINE’S NEWLY elected president, Petro Poroshenko, got a pledge of support from President Obama in Warsaw yesterday. But in the struggle over Ukraine’s future, Vladi­mir Putin was looking like the day’s winner. As Mr. Obama delivered another speech in Warsaw on the defense of freedom, Russian-backed forces were staging a major offensive in the Ukrainian province of Luhansk, where they overran a border command-and-control center and a national guard base. According to NATO’s supreme commander, U.S. Gen. Philip M. Breedlove, the insurgents were “very well led, very well financed [and] very well organized” by Russia.

Mr. Putin’s proxies are tightening their grip over Luhansk and the adjacent province of Donetsk in fighting that has steadily escalated since Mr. Poroshenko’s election. Yet Mr. Putin not only has paid no price for the aggression — threatened U.S. and European Union sanctions remain on hold — but he was on his way Wednesday to D-Day celebrations in France, where he was invited to meet with the leaders of Britain, France and Germany. Mr. Obama, too, was talking up “the importance of maintaining good relations with Russia” and his hope to “rebuild some of the trust” with Moscow in coming months.

So Mr. Putin has a foothold in eastern Ukraine, and he is firmly in control of Crimea. A substantial number of Russian troops are still camped on Ukraine’s borders, and irregular fighters and arms are pouring across. But the Russian leader is back to being courted by Western leaders, who are pushing Mr. Poroshenko to find a way to satisfy the Kremlin’s demands.

And what of the defense of freedom, about which Mr. Obama spoke at Warsaw’s Castle Square? The president and his European partners are going only so far as they perceive they can without unduly upsetting Mr. Putin. Mr. Obama announced a $1 billion initiative for additional military maneuvers with Polish and other Central European countries and the prepositioning of equipment — but sidestepped Poland’s request for permanent U.S. or NATO bases on its territory.

Mr. Poroshenko said last week that he hoped for an extensive “lend-lease” program from the United States that would supply the ragtag Ukrainian army with the weapons and training it needs to defeat the Russian-backed forces. He got a promise from Mr. Obama of $5 million in non-lethal equipment, including radios and goggles. It would have been less insulting to have offered nothing.

Mr. Obama and German Chancellor Angela Merkel announced last month that if Russia disrupted Ukraine’s elections it would be subjected to sanctions aimed at key sectors of its economy. When Russian-backed forces then prevented voting in most of Luhansk and Donetsk, which contain 15 percent of the Ukrainian electorate, the Western leaders decided their line had not been crossed. On Wednesday, Mr. Obama and Ms. Merkel set a new test: Mr. Putin must recognize and negotiate with the Poroshenko government, stop the flow of weapons from Russia into Ukraine and induce the rebels to lay down their arms. Otherwise, they warned, the sanctions would be applied.

Mr. Putin will no doubt judge the latest threat according to the rigor with which the last one was enforced. He has not given up his strategy of using force to undermine Ukraine’s stability and to compromise its independence. Given the West’s wobbly response, why would he?

Dima’s email is just one of so many I receive from Ukrainians since I’ve started writing about this topic. They’re appreciative that someone sees it their way. They feel they don’t have a voice in any of this and the mainstream and alternative media have completely misrepresented them and the situation. They’re good people. They’re strong people. They’ve been put in an impossible predicament — yet again. They’re coping as best they can. Some are fighting back by seeing the True Enemy (HBO — you’re long overdue) and targeting it for expulsion and/or extinction. Some are protecting their community, their homes and their families and loved ones because that’s what you do when you’re under attack from another country that you now know is your enemy.

In keeping with his/its cowardly character, Putin and the Kremlin have engaged an army of cyber provocateurs to haunt Western comment sections in an effort to turn Americans against themselves as Putin’s Russia tyrannically unites under false pretenses. Take a look at Kunstler’s blog this week. His space is crawling with these cretins sent to demoralize Americans with incessant threats of Collapse. There will be no Collapse — only productive paralysis for the naive dopes who swallow the anti-American pro-Russian propaganda deposited in the comment sections of Western blogs. Once again, The Washington Post in this article by Caitlin Dewey is out front in calling out Russia for its devious and deceptive connivance.

Hunting for paid Russian trolls in the Washington Post comments section

Since April, Russia has spent thousands of dollars amassing a “troll army” to torment American social networking and news sites, per a pair of stories that ran on Buzzfeed this week.

The trolls are, allegedly, legion. They’re foul-mouthed and irritable. They’re funded by an online marketing firm with very distant ties to the Kremlin. And they are, according to Buzzfeed, operating in the Post’s comment section — as well as the New York Times’, CNN’s and the Huffington Post’s.

The Post hasn’t, for the record, been able to conclusively verify Buzzfeed’s reporting or review the original documents from an “anonymous hacker collective” that reporter Max Seddon cited in his story. Nevertheless, we couldn’t let these simultaneously menacing and hilarious allegations of overseas trolling stand! And so, armed with some healthy skepticism and the descriptions of the trolls’ behavior in Seddon’s piece, I — along with the Post’s commenting overlords, Julia Carpenter and Beth Butler — set off to hunt some trolls.

The Russian trolls, per Buzzfeed, generally share a couple of telltale characteristics. They are, it should go without saying, (a) Russian and (b) trolls, a.k.a. commenters who engage in off-topic provocation for no apparent reason besides giving moderators like Beth and Julia headaches. Their English tends to be poor, with syntactical and grammatical errors characteristic of native Russian speakers. And they always engage on one of a set list of topics, which include — predictably — Ukraine, President Obama and LGBT rights.

Sure enough, we found a few commenters who seemed to fit the bill. Like this user, commenting on an article about Obama’s dismissal of Russian territorial claims:

Halloo, egghead! Let’s go! “Oink-oink-oink-oink-oink …” hahaha-haha-ha…..))))))))))) [He then launches into an anti-American screed in Russian.]

Or another commenter, who twice left the same response to an article about Ukraine:

But we are millions here, all Russian, we do not like to kiss *** of the western superiors of Ukrainian candy president. We want to be part of mother impire. What about us?

A third suspicious user was banned from the Post’s forums after making multiple comments in Russian and then posting a Social Security number, in violation of Post policies.

By and large, however, these trolls weren’t any trollier than some of the other more disruptive denizens of the Post’s comments section, most of whom provide their services — we assume — for free. In fact, while a few of the apparent trolls had comments deleted for violating Post policies, the group as a whole never stood out from the other commenters the Post flags daily. (… which, come to think of it, may say something profound about the caliber of online discourse.)

“We didn’t immediately pluck them out from the crowd as mastermind spies,” is how Julia put it.

This is all anecdotal, of course, but it supports observations that have been made about similar international trolling efforts before. It certainly merits comparison to the U.S. State Department’s “Digital Outreach Team,” which dedicates itself largely to trolling jihadists in Arabic, Punjabi, Somali and Urdu-language forums, as well as on Facebook, Twitter and YouTube.

So far, reviews of that program have been pretty mediocre: a 2012 study concluded that the team’s efforts did very little to change the tone of anti-American conversations. In fact, on the whole, users were vastly more likely to ridicule or refute the American trolls than to actually converse with them. It would seem the Post’s Russian trolls have met much the same fate.

“The Obama administration should encourage itself to keep it’s nose away from Russian-Ukrainian relations,” wrote one. One minute later, another user had already countered.

“Not going to happen, buddy.”

Here’s some Wanted posters, Dima. Print them out and spread them around. Make these mercenary cowards fight on two fronts, or three. Let them know their mission means their sure death, and if that’s what they really want, then by all means, be the gracious host and give it to them.



28 thoughts on “From Dima In East Ukraine

  1. Thank you so much for your blog Cold N. Holefield. I read it every day. Sometimes I read the same post over and over. It feeds my soul. I feel like you are reading my mind. I know you say everything is a lie but I feel you lie the least. I appreciate everything you’re doing to cut through the fog of impending war. You are providing an invaluable service to us here in Ukraine who can’t get a straight answer. We feel all alone and are not sure who to trust and not trust. Without your blog, I might have actually believed saker, but you’ve helped me to see it differently and everything you have revealed so far makes sense. It’s the only thing that makes sense.

    Are you married? If not you’re the type of man I would like to marry. I’m joking. I know a man such as you has been snatched up long ago. Your wife is a lucky woman.

    Please put a Donate button on your blog. There are many of us who would like to reward you for your hard work.

    With much affection,


  2. He’s mine Polina. 🙂 Keep your hands off him.

    You rock Cold. You really are a rock star here in Kyiv. Especially with the ladies.

    Like Polina I visit your blog every day. I only wish you would post and write more. You touch me in all the right places. Few men are capable of that.

    If you were president of Russia I would return. For now I’ll remain an exile until things improve. In the meantime you’re my president.

    Don’t let it go to your head or I’ll cut down your cross like my friends in the video.

    Wolf Love

  3. “I’d kill him [to] — immediately.” – Cold

    But nit picking aside, good job on the Ukrainian broken English in the fake “Dima” email. We have a Ukrainian woman (albeit western Ukraine) who cleans our house every couple weeks and you have captured her cadence pretty well.

    I engaged Oksana in conversation about the Ukraine situation 2 or 3 months ago (it was difficult) to see if she leaned toward embracing Europe and the West or embracing Russia as the majority of Eastern Ukrainians seem to do. Her contempt for the East Ukrainians amused me. “We like VORK, they like DRINK.” Her English has improved markedly in the past 2-3 years but she still doesn’t get the use of the word “to.”

    • Thanks for the grammar catch — I made the correction.

      she leaned toward embracing Europe and the West or embracing Russia as the majority of Eastern Ukrainians seem to do.

      I’m not certain that’s necessarily true. I don’t think “embracing” is the right word. Sympathetic with since they share a substantial cultural overlap, yes, but that sympathy doesn’t necessarily translate to a yearning to be swallowed by Russia. The media, and certainly the comment sections at various blogs, are misleading if this is the impression you’ve gotten. Mission Accomplished.

  4. Polina and Lyubov, thanks for the kind words of appreciation and encouragement. I’ll think about a Donate button but for now I’ll refrain. When you write for money, you become a professional liar. It’s a hobby, and no one should expect remuneration for a hobby.

    Polina, thank you for that wonderfully delicious Yabluchnyy Korzh you sent me. I ate it all in two days. You’re going to make me fat if you keep it up.

    Lyubov, I’m too old for those kind of sexual pranks. I appreciate you sending a pair of your panties unsolicited, but I’m old enough to be your granddad. Sure, I can still manage an erection, but I don’t need a heart attack. Maybe next time send some poppy seed roll if you must send something.

    To both of you and to my many fans, maybe it’s not such a good idea you send things in the mail to me. Considering my family history and what I know, I could be on a hit list ( and most likely am). I’ve gone so far as to hire a homeless man who camps out near the Post Office to run in and get my mail for me every day for a finski. If he were to get shot or blown up, I couldn’t handle the guilt.

    As I mentioned to you all in our many email correspondences, I was born to Jewish Ukrainian parents who were eventually murdered by the Nazis. They survived longer than most in the concentration camps, but in the end, they didn’t make it. My sister and I miraculously did, and as I informed in the emails, we were rescued by some State Department employees and adopted by an American spy couple.

    I suppose that’s what’s compelled me to write about what’s transpiring, not just with Ukraine, but everywhere, including Russia and America. I owe it to my birth parents and I owe it to my adopted parents. In memory of them and their love for me and my Sister.

    As I mentioned earlier, my adopted parents were spies for the State Department aside from being respectable academicians, so on occasion they would avail me of the generalities of what was going on, and sometimes even the specifics especially in the latter years when they had distanced themselves from their former craft––but like The Hotel California, even though they checked out of the spy business, they could never leave. Consequently, they could never rid themselves of it; it constantly showed up at their (our) doorstep…unwelcome near the end. I believe they assassinated my mother. The police never found the cabbie who ran my mother down, and over, as she stepped off the curb onto Madison Ave. after exiting Lobel’s Prime Meats on the Upper East Side at 82nd St. with a Kurobuta Boston Butt roast in hand. She was quite literally run over by a speeding cab that never stopped let alone slowed down according to witnesses. We never did find the responsible cabbie and the police were less than helpful. I think they were ordered from on high not to investigate this hit & run too vigorously, so they didn’t, and my mother’s murderer was never found and brought to justice. It was 1985, and my father declined emotionally and physically after my dear mother was cut down that fateful Spring day at the age of 78.

    As spies in academia, my adopted parents’ mission was to root out and report on suspected Communist and Fascist collaborators, but their mission wasn’t just collaborators in academia, although that was the majority of it. They were also solicited to report on Ethel and Julius Rosenberg and other Jewish Communists with whom they were good friends. My parents spent considerable time with Ethel and Julius and were friends with them even before my sister and I were adopted in 1945. Mom and dad would have the Rosenbergs over a couple of times a year at least, and yes, often they would serve pork and the Rosenbergs loved it. Although, on occasion, Ethel would insist on cooking her famous liver & onions…which was marvelous by the way. They were both highly intelligent, very sweet and caring people if not a bit naïve. They never suspected my parents were spies until the very end right before their execution when my parents were allowed to visit them and ask for their forgiveness. My parents never thought their reporting would ever have been used to execute Ethel & Julius, and in fact, the execution of the Rosenbergs is what turned my parents off to the spy business. My mother cried for days when their death was announced and my father was depressed for months. They realized they had been duped by the Fascist faction of the state department that was winning the internecine war within the shadows of government at the time.

    In the intervening years between the execution of the Rosenbergs and the execution of my mother, my parents did still engage in some spy activity but nothing resembling the magnitude of their prior service. They would apprise me of the battles being waged by the various factions in government; the Fascists, the Communists and the Global Capitalists. At various times, one or another of these factions would get the upper hand and sometimes they would tag-team with each other against another faction but there was an ebb and a flow of power and no particular faction maintained the upper hand until the late 1970s when the Communists developed a new, stealth strategy and pretended to be something they weren’t. As my parents indicated, it was a long-term strategic approach that would take decades to bear positive results and the ultimate consolidation of power. During these discussions they would occasionally name names, and in the early eighties I distinctly remember them warning about two people in particular; Bill de Blasio and Barack Obama. Of course, they referred to de Blasio as Warren Wilhelm in the early 1980s before he changed his name, and they did not give a name for Barack Obama, but what they did say about him was chilling and prophetic; they informed me that after the turn of the century a Black man would be “elected” president per the plan and it would serve as a coronation of the Communist consolidation of power after feigning a collpase before the turn of the century. My parents relayed that the man was currently being groomed for the job…that he was the progeny of a purposeful union to give birth to this future leader and that this individual would one day pass himself off as a uniter when his real purpose will be to turn the U.S. into a vassal of Communism. Mom and Dad mentioned that his name would be changed…that the changing of names was code, a call out, to fellow members and collaborators and a sure sign of a person’s affiliation and loyalty. It’s a sign of their strength and symbolic that they have seized power since they can now hide in plain sight and not be held to account for treason because with the transformation such acts will no longer be considered treasonous but instead magnanimous and praiseworthy.

    As mentioned, Dad’s emotional, mental and physical health rapidly declined after the murder of my mother. Within a couple of years he began showing signs of dementia, and his physical appearance was increasingly derelict. Heretofore, he was a meticulous man in all things and he was particularly fastidious about his appearance and personal hygiene. By 1988, however, he would shave only once a week, if that, and the same for bathing. His hair got greasier and unruly, his eyes more distant, his cheeks sallow and gaunt beneath his considerable stubble. He lost a lot of weight, although he was never a heavy man and as a result was always chilled even at the height of summer. He would wear flannel shirts with the top button fastened that he wouldn’t allow to be laundered but once a month.

    As the dementia took hold and worsened, we subleased his Upper East Side apartment and had him move in with us in our cottage in Litchfield County Connecticut. We hired a nurse to look after him and set him up in the guest house that connected to the main house via a trellised walkway covered in beautiful bougainvillea during the growing season. In his transition to severe dementia, he could be quite lucid and coherent on occasion, but this welcome behavior was often interspersed with bizarre ramblings and predilections. He fixated on the movie The Godfather and would watch it every day for months on end. He began to think of himself as Vito Corleone and in order to maintain a semblance of peace, we would often humor him with these escapades. He wanted a tomato garden like Vito’s, so we planted a tomato garden out back with him and let him tend to it like Vito did in his last year(s). He requested that his five year old great grandson, my grandson, chase him around the tomato garden with one of those old-fashioned plant sprayers from the movie. Do you know how hard it was to find one of those? I did though, because I loved my Father and so my Grandson, Mark, would chase Great Granddad around the garden. Thankfully, Dad didn’t fall over and die from a massive heart attack like Vito, although that seems to be what my father wanted but that’s the one thing we couldn’t accommodate. We even supplied the orange so he could make the scary orange-peel-in-the-mouth face Vito made in that famous, touching scene.

    In the spirit of the movie The Godfather, my father would like to have talks with me out near the tomato garden just like Vito did with Michael. It was bizarre and surreal but we felt compelled to humor him rather than resist his harmless intentions and cause unnecessary strife and conflict. He began to resemble Vito in every way. He would put cotton balls in his mouth and like I said earlier, his chin was stubbly, his cheeks gaunt, his eyes tired and fading, and his flannel shirt buttoned all the way to the top. I was stoned during some of these chats out back (yes, like so many others, I took my work home with me and my work was cannabis exploration), and sometimes it really freaked me out…like I couldn’t tell fantasy from fiction. Like Vito would warn Michael about the Barzini business, my Father, sounding very much like Vito, would say “about this de Blasio business, the man’s a traitor…he’s not to be trusted.” I would say “I know Pop, you mentioned that already” and he would respond “oh yeah, that’s right. I’m sorry.” He would then say “I’ve done things in my life I’m not proud of, but I did those things to protect my family and my country, and for that I will not apologize. But Michael (he insisted all calling me Michael), I never wanted any of this for you….” He would go on and on reciting, approximately, the lines of that garden scene from The Godfather and made me recite Michael’s lines to include saying pezzonovante like Michael says to his father when Vito says that’s what he wanted for Michael…for Michael to be a big shot.

    My point with all this is that my parents knew what was happening to America and forewarned what has come to pass. My Father, through his mentally crippling dementia, was so adamant in his conviction that he continued to warn about the evil Bill de Blasio to his very end. And here we are. Barry and Warren are in power just as my parents warned. The coup, the consolidation of power, is complete. It’s too late and I’m afraid for my children and grandchildren about what comes next. As I type this, de Blasio is rolling back an effective law & order tool in New York City; stop & frisk. Within a year or two, crime rates are going to soar. The criminals who carry guns illegally will now feel emboldened and a violent crime wave will be unleashed. The very people the Communists claim are afflicted by stop & frisk are the very people who will be mostly afflicted by its cessation. This is what Communists do; they get The Masses to murder each other under the guise of equality.

  5. What a shame. I was just beginning to have some respect for you as Cold N. (as opposed to your CFN persona, Carol) and you write this cockamaimee (sp?) post. So, we are to believe your demented father spotted “Barry and Warren” as up and coming problems as far back as the ’80s? Groomed from conception for their current roles. A regular Nostradamus your father was.

    And your Mom being run down by a cab…….you use the words cut down, murdered and executed. Have you ever considered the word accident? My wife and I rode in a cab in NY this past Sunday and my heart was in my mouth. I will venture that there isn’t a yellow cab in NYC over 3 months old that doesn’t have some dents in it. Remember, to a Cabbie, time is money. The possibility your Mom suffered unpremeditated death by taxi is not at all unreasonable.

    Piecing together various dates in your post I would have to estimate that you are my age (73.5) if not older. If I can believe that, this sort of context is helpful to me as I read your posts.

    To your credit (Catcher in the LIE) I can’t determine for sure whether your family history is true or you’re just an unusually articulate crackpot.

    • Why are you treating Catcher this way? Like many others I’ve been reading this blog from the beginning. Catcher is good man. He has strength, smarts and real power. These are things you have said you expect and admire in a male. Then when someone acts the way you claim they should according to conventional gender roles you put them down and disrespect. How dare you question this man’s history. Do you do this outside of this electronic virtual world? Accuse people of lying about their past and their family’s history to include the death of their mother and father? What nerve you have.

      Catcher we have communicated by e-mail. I know you are busy man and receive a lot of e-mail so I appreciate the words you have for me. I know many friends here in Germany who follow your blog. As a comment above indicated please write more often and put up a donut button. You won’t be writing for money like the hypocrites who will only write to sell a book or who write lies for establishment publications for mere peanuts.


      Jannik from Germany

      • I am replying to Jannik, if indeed there IS a Jannick and you are not merely a figment of an exceptionally fertile imagination. The doubt about yours and Dima’s existence and all of the other supposed followers of this blog in Ukraine, Germany, Europe in general, and soon, around the world, is the result of Cold N./Catcher’s own ideology that everything, including his own writings, is a crock of shit and that all commenters are trolls. Taken to its logical conclusion the internet is filled entirely with non-existent people…….. all except for Al Gore who says he invented the internet. Even I do not exist. I am an electronically generated troll created by Al for his own amusement.

        Likewise Cold/Catcher doesn’t exist but his creator has amused me with the comment written in decent but not perfect English under your name. For example: “Catcher is [ ] good man.” And I really cracked up with this one, “please write more often and put up a [donut] button.”

        Even more hilarious is the comment above from a Mr. Norman Weitzer, the supposed President of The Mayflower Foundation. They are so newly formed that they don’t have a website yet he invites Catcher to Europe as a guest speaker with “All expenses paid by us on your behalf, of course.” Oh yes, OF COURSE. Better yet, and I literally burst out laughing at this, Norman says “The position will of course come with a generous salary and benefits package.” Again, OF COURSE. I had no idea Bulgaria was so well off.

        At any rate, Al Gore (under the guise of Q. Shtik) sends himself (under the guise of Cold/Catcher) a big shout out for the amusement he has provided on this lovely Friday morning.

  6. Jannik, don’t worry about Q. Shtik. He’s alright. I’ve vetted him. He can be a grumpy old man on occasion, but if you engage in dissociative analysis, it’s not difficult to put yourself in his shoes. You are what you eat. Q. Shtik is no exception.

    Also Jannik, as I’ve mentioned before, I’m not looking for respect and fans/followers. All this attention is a burden. I feel beholden, and when a writer feels beholden he/she is no longer able to freely compose. Don’t get me wrong, I appreciate the sentiments, but it’s better if all of you focus on the words rather than the source of the words. As Jesus said, “I am The Word.” That’s my philosophy as well. I am The Word. If The Word inspires you, great, if not, too bad.

    Q. Shtik, as far as my age is concerned, I’ve got you by a decade young man. For reasons I’ll explain in another comment to shortly follow, I keep my mind fresh and young. The dissociative analysis I’ve been referring to has aided me tremendously in achieving this goal. No Alzheimer’s/dementia here.

    I’m 85. I was born September 24, 1928 in Zolochiv in West Ukraine. My father was a locally admired and respected blacksmith and my mother was a respected quilt-maker. We survived the initial Einsatzgruppen because my parents were skilled artisans and thus useful. Eventually we were transported to the Yaniv concentration camp in Lviv. My sister, five years younger than me, and I were adopted a week before Christmas, 1945. We arrived in America to celebrate Christmas with our new parents. They called it Christmas and celebrated the holiday just as any gentile does. We had a tree and presents…and we had pork tacos for Christmas dinner…no lie. It was a bitter-sweet affair. We were happy to be amongst people who obviously loved and cared about us and were willing to accommodate us in every way, but we felt sorrowful and forlorn for the loss of our loved ones and we also felt an overwhelming sense of guilt…that we somehow didn’t deserve to be treated so well. It took us many years to overcome these feelings of guilt but we eventually did and when we did we were free to explore our new world and to explore the world from which we had come.

    The Jewish academicians who adopted my sister and I fast-tracked the adoption process because they secretly worked for the State Department as spies in academia. They were responsible for rooting out radical elements to include potential Communist and Fascist collaborators. They didn’t want new-born children or even very young children. They were ill-equipped to deal with the challenges of young children or babies. It’s why they didn’t have any of their own. They wanted fully formed, somewhat turnkey adolescents with at least partially formed intellects, so because of their special status within the State Department, they received a special dispensation to adopt us when they became aware of our presence and existence.

    My adoptive father was a professor of Anthropology at NYU and he traveled quite a bit as part of his job. He made frequent trips to Mexico and sometimes would take us with him. That’s the reason for the pork tacos on Christmas. My adoptive parents loved Mexican cuisine so we were one of the few families in New York enjoying authentic Mexican food in the late 1940s and 1950s. We were ahead of our time. The pork tacos were sublime. I had never tasted anything like it. I have the recipe and still make them to this day. In fact, my family makes them for Christmas every other year and like gentiles, we have a tree and presents and on more than one occasion, I’ve even gone to Christmas mass at St. Patrick’s just for the sheer beauty of it.

    I was 17 when I was adopted. My adoptive parents helped me fast-track through all the schooling I missed, so I was behind the eight ball, but with a lot of hard work and their help, I caught up and graduated college when I was 28. They were wonderful people. A gift from the God they didn’t believe in.

    After I graduated Harvard at the age of 28 in 1957 with a degree in Chemistry, I decided to accept a lucrative job for the time with a jeweler in the diamond district inspecting diamonds. I took this job which wasn’t in my field of study really because I was burned out on school. I had to work exhaustively for eleven years to attain my undergraduate degree and I needed a diversionary reprieve so I took this job through a connection to my parents. My parents knew everyone, especially in the Jewish community of New York City but they knew people all over the world and certainly all over America. They helped get me into Harvard with their myriad connections. Of course, my status as a Holocaust survivor helped and James Bryant Conant easing the geographic distribution requirements in the late 1930s also helped, but my parents influential connections clinched it. I know that’s not fair, but I was young and didn’t know any better so I took the path that was presented to me.

    My time in the diamond district was interesting and enlightening. During those times…the late 1950s…there were not a few Holocaust survivors haunting the streets of Manhattan. Some of them were rather disturbed, understandably. I remember going to the movie theater to see the movie The Marathon Man when it came out in 1976 and I recollect how impressed I was with their characterization of the two Holocaust survivors Zell encountered when inquiring about the value of diamonds. It was exactly as I remember some of my fellow Holocaust survivors. Of course, these were much older survivors, but still, the likeness to the movie’s characterization was uncanny. There was a man who worked the counter at the Orthodox Jewish jeweler where I was employed, and once a week he would swear one of the customers who was shopping or browsing or who even bought a diamond was a Nazi camp something or other. Everyone learned to ignore this tortured man, but what if he was right a mere fraction of the time? The movie The Marathon Man made me feel guilty for also ignoring the tortured soul of this poor man Saul. But what could I do? I didn’t want to encourage him and enable his torture any further. When he asked for my ear about it, I would deftly change the subject and get him worked up about something more benign and less tortuous…usually something about the Yankees because he loved baseball and the Yankees. Everyone knew I had this ability so they would pawn Saul off on me when he went on one of these tirades of accusing a customer of being a Nazi camp commandant or guard.

    Anyhow, after a couple of years of inspecting diamonds and learning what a crooked trade the diamond trade is, I was fed up and decided to return to school. I applied to MIT and was accepted with a couple of letters of recommendation from some influential people my parents knew who were also MIT graduates. I earned my Masters degree and PhD in Biochemistry from MIT and began my career after receiving my PhD designation in 1965. I stayed on with MIT for a while and was involved in various projects for the government to include studying the effects of LSD. As part of this process, I actually took LSD several times, and administered it many times to test subjects. It was an interesting time and we learned so much, yet we learned nothing at all.

    In the early 1970s a colleague and I decided to strike out on our own and form our own lab and work as consultants. We focused our work on cannabis, so when you say its chemical makeup is not fully understood, well, yes, that’s true, but much is known about it and has been known about it for some time. The information’s out there…I should know, but it’s not readily distributed or easy to find…and that’s for a reason. Cannabis has been demonized for nearly a century as an evil weed. The government doesn’t want you to know about the wonderful and healing properties of cannabis.

    I can’t tell you how many Jewish friends I have who have overcome their aversion to pork because of cannabis. No lie. There are many Jewish people who have been raised to despise pork just as many Americans have a revulsion to eating dog or a cockroach. Considering my line of work and research, I often had access to the best specimens and strains of cannabis at the time, and so would avail my friends, Jewish or otherwise, of it. On more than a few occasions we would have them over and serve pork tacos after we got stoned. They loved them. It was miraculous. Those of them who are still alive thank me to this day for helping them overcome their aversion to swine and making them pork lovers.

    Nowadays, I use cannabis for more acute issues like high blood pressure coupled with low heart rate to include heart block. I have talked many friends and friends of friends out of pacemakers and instead convinced them to properly dose with cannabis for this condition. Cannabis lowers their blood pressure and increases their heart rate…and it helps keep their glaucoma in check and alleviate some of the pressure plus it’s a natural anti-inflammatory. It truly has been miraculous for so many of my friends and to think, had my adoptive parents not rescued my sister and me from Ukraine and the Iron Curtain closing around it, none of it ever would have happened. Just thinking about this too deeply brings back an ever so slight feeling of guilt. But I know my birth parents would have been proud. My adoptive parents certainly were and my children and grandchildren adore me. The grandchildren and great grandchildren love their hip cat granddad and great granddad. I’ve lived many lives and I hope to live a couple more before I take my last breath.

    • I feel “beholding” should be “beholden.”
      “Adopted” parents s/b “Adoptive.”
      “Strike it out on our own” s/b “Strike out on our own.”
      “rescued my sister and I” s/b “rescued my sister and me.”

      • Thank you for those grammatical corrections, Q. Shtik. Even though it was so long ago, my formative years in Ukraine still come back to haunt me in more ways than one. I occasionally slip up on the language, but I have overcome much adversity in the process of honing my language skills.

        Between the two of us, we a formidable team. Your voluntary service to me is invaluable and greatly appreciated. Oksana is a lucky servant to have you as a master.

      • ” Oksana is a lucky servant to have you as a master.” – Cold/Catcher

        Let me correct your misperception……..

        Oksana is an independent contractor with many clients in our town. She is lucky to have me (and my wife, who treats her very well) as a customer and we are lucky to have her since she is so good at what she does. That’s how capitalism works.

      • Sure, okay, have it your way. This is Burger King afterall.

        But what you describe is not Capitalism — it’s a transactional relationship between servant and master in a market economy. I’ll leave the free out of free market for now since Oksana’s options are severely limited, so to call her services rendered to survive, free is a misnomer.

        Capitalism would entail you take your excess surplus labor/productivity in the form of savings and invest it in Oksana’s business for an agreed upon return on investment. That’s not what you’ve described.

      • “Capitalism would entail you take your excess surplus labor/productivity in the form of savings and invest it in Oksana’s business for an agreed upon return on investment.” – Cold Catcher

        That is precisely what I do. My ROI is a clean house.

        Your definition of Capitalism is a bit too stuffy and bookish. Remember a few weeks ago when Kunstler said capitalism really wasn’t an “ism.” Rather it is more like gravity. Something so natural it is a law of nature that couldn’t be other than it is.

  7. Hello Cold N. Holefield,

    My name is Norman Weitzer and I’m President of the Board of Trustees of a newly formed organization called The Mayflower Foundation. Our mission is to enable truly sovereign independence for Eastern European countries such as Ukraine, Bulgaria, Romania, etc, etc. When we say truly we mean truly as in independence from all outside potentially malicious manipulation and exploitative and extortionist intention. We’re so new, we don’t have a website yet. It’s still under construction and should be up soon.

    The purpose of this correspondence is to invite you as a guest speaker to a conference we’re planning for late August in beautiful Varna, Bulgaria. All expenses will be paid by us on your behalf, of course. Also, via email I would like to detail an offer we’d like to make to you about the possibility of you becoming one of our inaugural fellowship members. The position will of course come with a generous salary and benefits package if you’re interested. I will provide more details in an email to follow.


    Norman Weitzer
    The Mayflower Foundation

  8. or you’re just an unusually articulate crackpot.

    Q. Shtik (can I call you Jim?), I can count on you, always, to state the obvious. You’re Steady Eddie — predictable as ever.

    You nailed it! Yes, this is the point. It’s satire. Just like The Saker at The Vineyard of the Saker.

    For those still scratching their heads, none of this post, including the comments that aren’t Q. Shtik (I can’t vouch for whether Q. Shtik is true or not, but if it is, God help us), is true, but it doesn’t mean the sociological creative writing exercise isn’t useful and valuable. It underscores the absurdity of The Saker’s blog referenced above. I’ve scanned the comment section of The Vineyard of the Saker and I can’t seem to find Q. Shtik stating the obvious there. Weird, that.

  9. Remember a few weeks ago when Kunstler said capitalism really wasn’t an “ism.” Rather it is more like gravity. Something so natural it is a law of nature that couldn’t be other than it is.

    No, I don’t remember that. I’ll take your word for it.

    What’s ironic about Kunstler’s musings concerning Capitalism is that those musings are themselves an ism — a metaphorical ejaculate. Uncle Jimmie’s notions of Capitalism are, metaphorically, so much Jism.

    I consulted no book for my notion of Capitalism. I have found that those who embrace Capitalism zealously, and defend it against all criticism, are in no way Capitalists and have a poor understanding of the concept.

    Capitalism is concerned with Capital. The word Capitalism itself, obviously, is a derivation of the word Capital, so to not explain Capitalism in terms of Capital is to make Capitalism whatever definition suits your purposes at the moment.

    Capital is surplus labor/productivity in the form of profit that is denominated in a unit of value (dollars currently) that is readily transferable and easily exchanged. The goal of Capital is to grow itself, and this is accomplished by engaging in investment opportunities that provide a return on investment greater than zero. That return is registered using the conventional unit of value (dollars) and can either be extracted and transferred to the next investment opportunity or it can be reinvested in the current investment opportunity that provided the initial return and thus growth of Capital. Also, the return can be made wholly liquid and used as income to purchase goods and/or services.

    Your clean house is not a return on Capital. Instead, as I mentioned in the latter above, you’ve used your Capital to purchase a service and have not reinvested it. If you want to argue this, fine, go ahead and make a fool of yourself once again, but before you do, first take that clean part of the clean house (not the house part) and try to invest it in an investment opportunity. For example, call your broker and tell him you want a thousand shares of Gazprom and when he asks for payment, transfer the clean part of your clean house and let’s see how that shakes out. No doubt, knowing you, you’ll find a way to argue with this as is your wont. That’s alright. It’s what I love about you. It’s endearing.

    • “No, I don’t remember that. I’ll take your word for it.” – Cold Catcher

      No, don’t take my word for it. Go to JHK’s April 28 offering titled Piketty Rikitty Dikitty. Here’s an excerpt:

      “The first mistake of Piketty fans such as New York Times op-ed ass Paul Krugman is the assumption that the dynamic labeled “capitalism” is an ism, a belief system that you can subscribe to or drop out of, depending on your political correctitude. That’s just not true. So-called capitalism is more like gravity, a set of laws that apply to and describe the behavior of surplus wealth, in particular wealth generated by industrial societies, which is to say unprecedented massive wealth. The human race never saw anything quite like it before. It became both a moral embarrassment and a political inconvenience. So among the intellectual grandiosities of modern times is the idea that this massive wealth can be politically managed to produce an ideal equitable society — with no side effects.”

      You’re right though Cold, I could write a convincing argument relating a clean house to investment and ROI. However, I’m busy and not in the mood for written argumentation. Next thing up for me is a little lunch.

      • No, don’t take my word for it. Go to JHK’s April 28 offering titled Piketty Rikitty Dikitty. Here’s an excerpt:

        No need to go to it since your excerpt proves adequate. What kind of title is that anyway? It sounds limp-wristed. That excerpt proves my point. Capitalism is whatever you want it to be at the moment to rationalize your point or pointlessness.

        I could write a convincing argument relating a clean house to investment and ROI.

        Convincing, maybe, to the enrollment at Yellow Brick Road Preschool & Infant/Toddler Center, but for the rest of us, the proper word would be convoluted.

        Next thing up for me is a little lunch.

        Let me guess, you contract out this personal chore to your Hmong cook to mix and match with the Ukrainian housekeeper. Sweet. I suppose she’s as lucky as the housekeeper, right? We all should be so lucky to wait on hand and foot for Q. Shtik.

        She is lucky to have me (and my wife, who treats her very well) as a customer

        I would love to be a fly on Oksana’s wall when you’re not around. I’m betting her perspective of the relationship is not nearly as rosy as your perspective. She quite literally cleans your shit because she has very limited options, but that doesn’t mean she has to like it or you — or consider herself lucky to clean the shit off the underside of your toilet seat.

        This White houseboy is lucky too, I suppose. But before you watch the Cadillac commercial, I’ll quote what I wrote in the other thread because the video is a prime example of it if you substitute “race” for gender.

        In Western society, despite the social engineering that’s taking place to change gender roles, at least traditionally, there’s been no formal ritualistic process where a male and/or a female consciously accepts their respective roles as you’ve described. It’s all done unconsciously by just going with the flow. This is not a trivial observation, because it speaks to motivation. What motivates is the compulsion to fit in, not an inherent compulsion to provide for someone other than oneself. Through reward and punishment, both extrinsic (paycheck, house, cars, vacations) and intrinsic (semblance of respect, acceptance and even admiration at times), we proceed to the next step in our lives that unfolds before us as a somewhat contained river of choices/options. We mimic each other being the social animals we are, and so we do what others around us do, first and foremost. Why? Because we want to fit in, to be accepted, because to be rejected is the worst thing that can happen to a social animal. So most everyone goes with the flow, and if you’re smart enough to get yourself into a position where you take part in developing that flow, your power is immense because you can quite literally change the world in dramatic fashion. That’s the position of media production and marketing in our society today. It’s literally changing the world by understanding the mechanism I just described, and your reaction to what it’s doing is entirely predictable and predicted.

      • I don’t get the point of your Caddy commercial link but it’s no never mind.

        I think your blog is starting to circle the terlit. It has become just us two……you writing to me and me (Al Gore) replying to you.

      • you writing to me and me (Al Gore) replying to you.

        It’s the other way around. You commenting to me and me having the decency to respond as author of this blog. I could just pretend you’re not commenting. Maybe I will.

        Of course you didn’t get the point of the Caddy commercial. I didn’t expect you would. When you think I’m having a conversation with you, I’m not, I’m having a conversation with the Universe and those who lurk here but dare not comment. It/They got the point (most of the “They”). Mission Accomplished.

        This is the problem with you, Q. Shtik. You’re myopic. You think the comments are all there is and since you comprise most of them second to me, no one views this blog. But you’re wrong. Wrong as rain. This blog has now been viewed over 7,000 times from people all over the world. Today, I’ve had 24 unique visitors and close to 80 page views. People visit and go through all the old blog posts. My best day was 142 unique visitors and 224 page views. Sure, these numbers are small potatoes, but I don’t care. Not anymore. Remember? My goal wasn’t/isn’t an audience and/or fan club. This blog is just thinking-out-loud. If others appreciate my thoughts or find my thinking-out-loud evocative and/or provocative, well, great. Good for them, but it’s a byproduct, not the purpose.

        Now excuse me while I go clean my toilet. No housekeeper for me. You’re not a real man unless you clean your own toilet.

    • Hey Cold,

      Ukraine has been pushed to the back burner for the time being. How about you go back to CFN (I’d do it myself but can’t) and bust Asoka’s (aka ajmuste’s) balls about Islam being “a religion of peace.” Iraq, and potentially the whole Middle East, is exploding along sectarian lines.

      Our U.S. equivalent would be news that “Heavily armed Methodists roared out of their Ocean Grove, NJ enclave in militarized Toyota pickups and slaughtered hundreds of detested Presbyterians. An appalled World Council of Churches head, apparently unaware of the irony, left open all options, including a military response, to quell the violence. Motivations were not entirely clear but one church member was heard to exclaim disgust with the growing number of NY Times wedding announcements in which pairs of handsome middle-aged men and homely short-haired women were pictured.”

      • Janet’s no longer there, so what would be the point of going back to CFN?

        I will put up a post shortly about this Iraq business. I made some comments at MOA and Ian Welsh’s place about it, but it deserves my attention in a blog post. Maybe by the end of the weekend. Until then, I must celebrate. Celebrate what, you ask? Life — that’s what. I will let the spirits take me where they will tonight. They’re fickle — you never know. It could be heaven or it could be hell.

      • Asoka hasn’t been commenting but I’m laying five to one he is still monitoring the site. Besides, you would be bustin’ balls for OTHERS to agree with and enjoy.

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