While we’ve done well on our actual, physical, battlefields on both the eastern and western fronts, when it comes to the hollows of the heart and plane of the brain, we have not been quite as successful.
If you read the NY Times piece titled “Why Rural America Voted for Trump” and a response to it with the header “Fuck You, Rural Elitists,” you’ll come away with the conclusion that both are overwhelmingly accurate.
Given the size of Turkey’s President Erdoğan’s ego, chickens, the bird usually referred to in the saying that is this article’s title, seemed like too small of a bird.
For years now, I have been mocked, or drawn smirks, or pooh-poohed, or patronized, or ignored, whenever I mention restoration of western Armenian territories to their rightful owners.
A few days ago, I read a 15-month old article describing Turkish environmental misbehavior in the province of Artvin, one of 81 such administrative divisions in Turkey
Since the election, I have bided my time and bitten my tongue about the ridiculous things president-elect Donald Trump has been saying and doing.
In the local, Artsakh dialect “okhtuh” means seven. Of course khach is a cross. Okhtuh Khach is the name of a peak in the Hadrout district of Artsakh, if memory serves me.
Ever since the carnage of World War II, there has been understandable aversion towards, even fear of, nationalism in Europe.
It was a tough choice – write about Turkey’s latest mess with its ludicrous arrests of HDP parliamentarians or the U.S. election.
It’s almost over. All I have left to cover are some local propositions.