You knew he was going to do it. As he’s the most petty vengeful motherfucker on the planet. Regardless of what happened, he was going to do it. Even if Zelenskyy lhad gotten down on his knees and polished his knob on live television, he was going to do it. Because he was impeached for it the first time around, and he still burns with fury over that. And so he’s going to show he can do it, do it again, and no one can stop him. Because. No One. Will. Ever. Get away. With defying. The bigly. And. For all time.

And so:

Trump suspended the delivery of all U.S. military aid to Ukraine.

Officials said the directive would be in effect until Trump determined that Ukraine had demonstrated a good-faith commitment to peace negotiations with Russia.

All the nations, sane and decent, then arrayed, against the beelzebub. As the French prime minister did say: “On Friday evening, a staggering scene unfolded, marked by brutality and a desire to humiliate, the aim of which was to threaten Ukrainian President Volodymyr Zelenskyy into surrendering to the demands of his aggressor. We are being asked to accept standards we refuse. To abandon our concern for decency, and accept the indecency they would like to impose on us."

As all of Europe, and many other nations besides, are mobilizing, to behave, henceforth, as if the United States, it does not exist. Or, more precisely—it is enemy.

One of the several things for which Joe-must-go does not presently receive credit—though he will, and with bells on, in the histories—is that from the very get-go of his administration he framed the essential conflict of our time as that between autocracy and democracy.

In his inaugural address he stated, correctly: “Here we stand, where just days ago violence sought to shake this Capitol’s very foundation. Just days after a riotous mob thought they could use violence to silence the will of the people, to stop the work of our democracy, and to drive us from this sacred ground.

“We have learned, again, that democracy is precious. Democracy, is fragile.”

Some months later, in Munich he, correctly, stated: “We are in the midst of a fundamental debate about the future and direction of our world. We’re at an inflection point between those who argue that, given all the challenges we face, that autocracy is the best way forward. And those who understand that democracy is essential, essential to meeting those challenges. We must demonstrate that democracy can still deliver for our people in this changed world. That, in my view, is our galvanizing mission.”

The Americans, in their unwisdom, rejected democracy, chose autocracy, in returning to the White Power House the Kleagle. Who, on the first day of his second term, ended the United States. In pardoning/commuting the sentences of every one of the more than 1500 orcs convicted of, at the Kleagle’s command, storming the US Capitol, there to murder, rapine, overthrow the government. Hundreds of people, over millions of hours, scrupulously following, all and every law, brought those people to justice. For all of it, to be swept away, by the swipe of a short-fingered vulgarian hand.

That is not democracy. That is auotocracy.

Where we are now, now, is clear. The Kleagle, at the head of the United States, is not just enemy of Ukraine. But enemy, of life. And the sane and decent nations, they must unite, in the understanding, that the United States, it is enemy.

As all the sane and decent among the Americans must understand this too. For them, it is White Rose time. There can be no quarter, no cooperation, with anything, at any time. With the enemy. Within which they lIve.

The other night, precogging, I dreamed Messalina, she had arrived, from out of the 1st Century.

To kill. The Kleagle.

Apparently, she receives, these assignments, from time to time.

She spread out, upon a table, what were, like, blueprints, of the corporeal container, of the Kleagle.

When I understood this mission was about killing him, I said to Messalina’s controller, a guy who looked like a mean version of Jonathan Pryce, like in Ronin: “I can’t be involved in this. I’m a pacifist.”

And he sneered at me: “Like hell you are.”

Then Messalina lifted her head from the blueprints, and said: “It can’t be done. The Kleagle has been augmented. By the Entity. He can’t be extinguished, until all of his people, his works, have been destroyed first. I’ve seen this before. Like with Schicklgruber. Why do you think that fuck didn’t die, when that bomb, it went off, right between his legs? As with Schicklgruber, the Kleagle, he’s going to have to go, his own way.”

“But his way, it is evil!” I protested.

“I thought you never used the word 'evil',” sneered the Pryce guy.

“I’m making an exception,” I, abashed, said.

Messalina, she took pity on me. And said, “Come,” and led me from the planning room, to the outside.

We went walking down the road.

It was hard for me to concentrate on what was all out there. Because everywhere everybody was gawking at Messalina.

Because, she was naked.

“They wrote a lot of Libels about me,” she said. “But one thing, surely, was true: I was often naked.

"And,” she smiled, “why not?”

We went into a bar. Messalina went behind it, and began serving drinks. The patrons were shouting out their orders. Messalina, from the 1st Century, didn’t know what a lot of these 21st Century drinks were. So, she just served, whatever.

But the patrons, they didn’t much mind. Because. She was naked.

I noticed some of the patrons, they were falling off their stools. Then spasming, retching, twitching, until they went immobile. Like they’d gone boneyard.

I looked at Messalina.

She shrugged. “I told you: before he can go, first must go his people. And his works.”

“But how can you tell these twitch-jobs are his people?”

“Because they have a glimmer. As from the other side. Like Olivia sees. In Fringe. She, also, of me.”

I looked there. At the mounting casualties. As she served the drinks.

I wasn’t sure. I could board this.

“Get aboard,” Messalina stiffened, “or get off. This is not a time, for half-boys.

“He’s killing children. Empowered, by his people.”

She nodded at the fallen. “And, every day.

“Swallow," she said, "those dead children. Lick. Their entrails.

“Be. That.

“Or. Stand. On your own. Hind legs.”