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.
Last November, Americans elected the unlikeliest presidential candidate, Donald J. Trump.
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.
Let me take you to the Armenian community in Buenos Aires…
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.
In the morning of the 10th day of our cruise, the excitement to cross the equator line was palpable.
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.
Let’s take a look at what my first day in Buenos Aires was like.
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.