Letter to Mг. Putin

By Blagovesta Doncheva – Bulgaria

Dear P. and Ukraine....

Dear Mr. Putin...

“A point comes when caution ends and cowardice begins.”

– Eldridge Cleaver.

Dear Mr. Putin,

As the fascist flag of Kiev slithered upwards beyond the flames of the House of Trade Unions building, the visible horror of the Odessa massacre ricocheted across the globe, and the stench of burning human flesh hung fresh in the sour air. Modern-day Nazi atrocity, murder, and barbarism have returned to your borders, Mr. Putin, in colorized newsreel fashion.

You merely watch?

Your Russian Foreign Ministry last week issued a “White Book,” a documented government report detailing the atrocities of the unabashedly fascist regime in Kiev. The White Book reveals what is already known to us; that the American-backed junta loves and craves the taste of blood.

The only acceptable substitute is treasure.

This was before Odessa. This non-fiction horror story will be repeated soon in East and South Ukraine. This is the terrifying sequel to the History of the Third Reich. Mr. Putin, new chapters are about to follow. Soon.

On your own TV screen, you see the same ashen faces, staring dumbfounded. Bats smashing skulls. Chains maiming the injured. Guns shooting the defenseless. The wide hollow eyes of horror watching the exploding petrol bombs, the smoke and the flames of American empire stripping the flesh from those screaming in pain. Screaming in outrage. Screaming to be rescued. Screaming.

These hollow eyes, Mr. Putin, now look in only one direction. East.

Nuances be damned. Today, one man’s “freedom” is that same man’s brutal oppression. Now, faced with the complete inhumanity that is Odessa, “invasion” is now the civilized man’s, the moral man’s, and the Ukrainian man’s, rescue!

Mr. Putin, you know that Ukraine must be rescued. The American dogs of war are on your doorstep and on ours. Why are you suddenly showing weakness? Yes, the media will exponentially use the word “invasion.” Do not succumb to this lie. Rest assured that to us, the correct, most accurate single word is truly “rescue.”

You, Mr. Putin, are the only world leader with the military assets, the close proximity, the will of your own people, and the avowed moral obligation to save Ukraine. The empire intends to leave another once-peaceful nation in the shambles of civil war. You saved Syria. Save Ukraine.

You must act.

It is time.

Who are we to so bullishly remind you of your obvious impending peril? Who are we to slap you to consciousness of the carnage you seem to ignore?

We know many secrets, Mr. Putin. We will share these with you. These are desperate times, Mr. Putin. What we have seen, you must hear. We also know what it sounds like to scream. Hear us now!

Who are we?

I am Afghan. The American menace is finally gone. Freedom and democracy leave only misery in their wake. We have nothing, but we now have hope.

I am Iraqi. Chaos. Fear. Terror. Civil war. Dozens are blown to bits daily. I see the hollow eye: everywhere. Well we know the American legacy of freedom. The fire. The smoke.

I am Sudanese. I am very hungry. I will die soon for I am expendable. The American black dogs of war have no food for the likes of humans like me. All I have to offer is my soul, but that has no value.

I am from Myanmar. American greed has no limit. In the first three years of our new “Democracy,” American empire has already destroyed our hopes. It lays waste to our lands and slaughters our people. The stench of empire is in the wind.

I am Venezuelan. The empire will stop at nothing to steal our oil and land. Human carnage has started. The evils of American “freedom” foment civil war. We have already heard the bombs. Seen the flames.

I am Libyan. The worst days of Qaddafi were better. The remaining semblance of our nation is in the tatters of civil war. Now the empire can plunder our oil, while we kill each other. The unholy flag of empire is never at half-mast.

I am Egyptian. Our Arab spring turned it into Arab tyranny, torture and execution. Dissent is now a death sentence. The American-backed, -educated, and -financed coup destroyed our fledgling democracy. The fire and smoke of civil war will be upon us soon.

I am Palestinian. Why is our freedom impossible? We have been left with so little. We suffer more every day. The Israelis steal ever more at will. For only one reason, America.

I am English. Like my European brothers, the American banking system has ruined our economy. The carnage of endemic greed in society worsens as the empire grows, stealing ever more via austerity. We have no more to give. I fear we will soon see the petrol bombs fly.

I am Greek. And I am Cypriot. The men are leaving. In coffins. By their own hand. Austerity turned to despair. Such are the sorrows of empire. Is it now time for the fire and the smoke?

And I am American, Mr. Putin. I will tell you the biggest secret of all.

Americans see the fire and smoke in Odessa and we know that our government is lying. We know the truth about our government; it is not a government of all. It is a vampire called empire. It has an insatiable thirst. We Americans are already being ravaged by the fire and the smoke of our empire. Police kill us daily. To resist is to die.

Mr. Putin, have you missed the metaphor that is your Odessa? Those swirling, all-consuming flames are the American empire and the burning House of Trade Unions is your Russia. That is you, Mr. Putin, who is standing on the ledge outside those smoke-engulfed, burning windows three stories up.

The flames swirl, cascading through the smoke-engulfed windows, while the rabid inhuman pack of American-backed thugs waits with chains and bats to kill any survivors. With every blow, with every hammer strike of chain, terror personified expunges the last breath of the intolerable notion of personal freedom.

But, these jackals have other meat on their minds. Bigger game to kill.

That inhuman crowd far below you, Mr. Putin, wants your blood. While these beasts of empire extinguish the life of their Odessa victims, it is you they look for in the faces of their dying victims. You.

The forty six or more victims of the empire-massacred in Odessa screamed for rescue. The citizens of eastern and southern Ukraine cry out for rescue. Humanity howls in outrage. We look to you.

Mr. Putin. Sit. Absorb the flaming images of empire. A world typified by Odessa. That is fire and it is dangerously close to your border. That is real smoke. Not since the Nazi ovens were closed has that putrid smell caused the human condition to retch involuntarily. Those sacks dropping to the concrete. Real people, flesh and blood, jumping from those ledges. Yes, and those are actually Nazis, killing yet again. Killing with impunity. Killing with uncontrolled rage. Killing for sport.

It is time to rescue Ukraine. It is time to rescue Russia. It is time to rescue us. Who are we, Mr. Putin, to impudently assail you with these most important truths?

We are the last available spoils of empire. We are the future and we are history. We are the quest for happiness, and the proponents of peace and dreams. We are the voice of reason and of right versus so much wrong. We wear the white hat while the empire’s evil minions wear black.

We now must be your conscience, Mr. Putin. For your own good, the good of Ukraine, Russia, and countries East to West.

We tell you Mr. Putin, it is time. We tell you that you must act. You, and we, are next.

Mr. Putin. We are the world.

We beg you.

It is time.


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