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How Russia should deal with the “Pilban Syndrome” (PBS)A reader, Sunrise. State, has recently posted the following question in the comments section: “what would you say is the most optimal Russian strategy vs Poland?“.  When I read it I thought “now that is an interesting question indeed!”.  Today I will try to answer it, going step by step. First, a diagnosis. There is a Polish syndrome.  We can ascribe all sorts of causes for it, some will describe the Poles look as heroic victims, others as greedy hyenas, but for our purposes we don’t even need to dwell into history to list a series of symptoms which, when taken together, we could call the “Polish Syndrome”: Phobia (hatred and fear) for Russia and everything Russian. A strong desire to be “part of the West” (as opposed to an imaginary “despotic Asia”) while in reality having little or nothing in common with the said “West”A deep and bitter resentment at having been militarily defeated over and over again and a subsequent hope for a grandiose revanche. A deep seated inferiority complex towards both the East and the West as lyrically expressed in the Ukrainian slogan “let us drown the Poles in Russian and Jewish blood!“. A dream of finally submitting the Orthodox Church to the Papacy (or, in its latest iteration, to “consecrate Russia to the immaculate heart of Mary“)A deep insecurity about itself resulting in a neverending policy of finding external allies, including Hitler, to take on the “big guy”.

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A willingness to say anything and do anything to get the external ally to extend protection, threaten Russia or, even better, participate in a long- awaited “march on Moscow”. Again, whether this is a result of centuries of Russian oppression, imperialism, violence and persecutions or the result of the Papist ideology makes absolutely no difference for our purposes. Also, when we look at the various symptoms of our “Polish Syndrome” we immediately see that it is not unique to Poles or Poland – the Ukrainians, especially the western Ukrainians, display all the same characteristics as their Polish neighbors (as do the Balts, but they are too small, weak and irrelevant to be included here).  The syndrome we are looking at is therefore not really a “Polish” one, but an East European one, but calling it “East European” would also be incorrect.  So, for our purposes, I will simplify and call it the “Pilban Syndrome” (PBS) in honor of the two “great heroes” of the Polish and West Ukrainian nationalists: Jozef Pilsudski and Stepan Bandera. Second, a prognosis. Friends, the Pilban Syndrome is here to stay.  For one thing, we are dealing with a syndrome with deep historical roots.  Second, years of Communist rule followed by a sudden collapse of the Soviet Empire gave this syndrome a huge boost. Third, the Anglo.

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Zionist Empire, especially in its current position of rapid decline, will allocate a great deal of resources to keep the PBS alive and well.  Finally, the abject failure of the Anglo. Zionist policies in the Ukraine and the subsequent civil war will probably lead to a break- up of the Ukraine, in one form or another, and that will also greatly contribute to the vitality of the PBS.  I would also add that while right now Poland is enjoying a much hoped for “minute of fame” (being useful to the Empire against Russia) this pipe dream will also come crashing down sooner rather than later, and that inevitable collapse with also result in a sharp rise of the PBS.  Bottom line is this: the PBS is here to stay and Russians would be naive in the extreme to hope that it will just vanish. Watch Zero Tolerance Hindi Full Movie. Third, a warning.

There is nothing, absolutely nothing which the Russians could do to try to minimize the severity of the PBS.  It is absolutely crucial to understand that the PBS is deeply ideological in its nature and causes.  To think that some kind of action (short of collective national suicide, of course) would appease those suffering from PBS is delusional.  The Ukrainian case, in particular, will show that even if Russians give them loans, credits, favorable trade terms, security guarantees, etc. Ukrainian nationalists will see that as a devious plan to try to entrap or otherwise deceive the Ukrainians.  If tomorrow the Kremlin decided to send truckloads of gold to the Ukraine or Poland, they would accept it, of course, but as soon as the last truck crossed the border the Polish and Ukrainian nationalists would resume their usual mantras about “Poland/the Ukraine not perishing yet” (they both have these paranoid words in their essentially similar national anthems) along with their usual policies. Fourth, the big question. The big question is this: how do you deal with such hate- filled lunatics when they are your neighbors?  From a Russian point of view, these neighbors are constantly shifting their position on a spectrum roughly ranging between “minor pain in the ass” to “existential threat”, so this is nothing trivial.  If history has taught the Russians anything is that every single time Russia was weak the Poles invaded.  Every time.  The Ukrainian case is very different, since there never was any “Ukrainian state” in history.  However, since the Ukrainian nationalists display exactly the same PBS symptoms as their Polish brothers, we can assume that they too will wait for Russia to be weak (for whatever reason) to attack; in fact, the current *official* statements of the leaders of the Nazi junta in Kiev more or less promise to do exactly that).  Russia has tried all sorts of strategies with Poland, ranging from outright partitioning, to the granting of special rights, to a naive hope that a common stance against Nazi Germany would yield some degree of, if not brotherhood, then at least civil neighborly relations.  They all failed.  Clearly, a new approach is needed. Fifth, the obvious solution.

Okay so we have established that the PBS is incurable, that it is here to stay, that the Russians cannot meaningfully affect it and that past policies have all failed.  So what does that leave?  It leaves one obvious solution: Do nothing.  Have no policy.  Give up.  Ignore them.  Bypass them. The first principle of medicine is “above all do no harm”.  I will argue here that any Russian policy towards PBS suffering states will do harm and only make things worse.  However, doing absolutely nothing will yield huge advantages for Russia.  Think of it.  Doing nothing. Gives the Polish and Ukrainian nationalists the least excuses to focus on an imaginary external threat and forces them to have to look inside, at their own internal problems.  Considering that we are dealing hate- filled ideologues and deluded politicians, they will all turn on each other like rats in a cage. Makes it possible for Russia to combine a pragmatically efficient stance with a morally correct one: no matter how hate filled and delusional Polish and Ukrainian nationalists are, it is not for Russians to judge them, educate them or otherwise deny them their freedom to live in whatever manner they choose to.  Let them build the society they want, let them keep on barking at Russia like a small dog would do behind the “NATO fence”, and let them pursue their “western dream” to their heart’s content. Makes it possible for Russia to allocate much needed resources where it matters, where Russian money, sweat and blood can yield a real return on investment.  Ignoring the PBS- states will initially cost Russia some money, true, but in the mid- to- long term it will save Russian billions of Rubles. However, when I say “do nothing” I refer only to policies which actually involve expectations that if Russia does “X” the Polish or Ukrainian nationalists will do “Y”.  An example such mistaken policies would be to expect the Poles to buy Russian LNG gas if Russia offers better prices.  It ain’t gonna happen – give it up, Vlad!

Song of Myself. Won't you help support Day. Poems? 1. 81. 9- 1. I celebrate myself, and sing myself. And what I assume you shall assume. For every atom belonging to me as good belongs to you.

I loafe and invite my soul. I lean and loafe at my ease observing a spear of summer grass. My tongue, every atom of my blood, form'd from this soil, this air. Born here of parents born here from parents the same, and their. I, now thirty- seven years old in perfect health begin. Hoping to cease not till death.

Creeds and schools in abeyance. Watch The Sin Syndicate Online Free 2016. Retiring back a while sufficed at what they are, but never forgotten. I harbor for good or bad, I permit to speak at every hazard. Nature without check with original energy.

Houses and rooms are full of perfumes, the shelves are crowded with. I breathe the fragrance myself and know it and like it. The distillation would intoxicate me also, but I shall not let it.

The atmosphere is not a perfume, it has no taste of the. It is for my mouth forever, I am in love with it. I will go to the bank by the wood and become undisguised and naked. I am mad for it to be in contact with me. The smoke of my own breath. Echoes, ripples, buzz'd whispers, love- root, silk- thread, crotch and vine.

My respiration and inspiration, the beating of my heart, the passing. The sniff of green leaves and dry leaves, and of the shore and.

The sound of the belch'd words of my voice loos'd to the eddies of. A few light kisses, a few embraces, a reaching around of arms. The play of shine and shade on the trees as the supple boughs wag. The delight alone or in the rush of the streets, or along the fields.

The feeling of health, the full- noon trill, the song of me rising. Have you reckon'd a thousand acres much? Have you practis'd so long to learn to read?

Have you felt so proud to get at the meaning of poems? Stop this day and night with me and you shall possess the origin of. You shall possess the good of the earth and sun, (there are millions. You shall no longer take things at second or third hand, nor look through.

You shall not look through my eyes either, nor take things from me. You shall listen to all sides and filter them from your self. I have heard what the talkers were talking, the talk of the. But I do not talk of the beginning or the end.

There was never any more inception than there is now. Nor any more youth or age than there is now. And will never be any more perfection than there is now.

Nor any more heaven or hell than there is now. Urge and urge and urge. Always the procreant urge of the world. Out of the dimness opposite equals advance, always substance and. Always a knit of identity, always distinction, always a breed of life. To elaborate is no avail, learn'd and unlearn'd feel that it is so.

Sure as the most certain sure, plumb in the uprights, well. Stout as a horse, affectionate, haughty, electrical. I and this mystery here we stand. Clear and sweet is my soul, and clear and sweet is all that is not my soul. Lack one lacks both, and the unseen is proved by the seen. Till that becomes unseen and receives proof in its turn. Showing the best and dividing it from the worst age vexes age.

Knowing the perfect fitness and equanimity of things, while they. I am silent, and go bathe and admire myself. Welcome is every organ and attribute of me, and of any man hearty and clean. Not an inch nor a particle of an inch is vile, and none shall be. I am satisfied- -I see, dance, laugh, sing.

As the hugging and loving bed- fellow sleeps at my side through the night. Leaving me baskets cover'd with white towels swelling the house with. Shall I postpone my acceptation and realization and scream at my eyes.

That they turn from gazing after and down the road. And forthwith cipher and show me to a cent. Exactly the value of one and exactly the value of two, and which is ahead? Trippers and askers surround me. People I meet, the effect upon me of my early life or the ward and.

I live in, or the nation. The latest dates, discoveries, inventions, societies, authors old and new. My dinner, dress, associates, looks, compliments, dues.

The real or fancied indifference of some man or woman I love. The sickness of one of my folks or of myself, or ill- doing or loss.

Battles, the horrors of fratricidal war, the fever of doubtful news. These come to me days and nights and go from me again. But they are not the Me myself. Apart from the pulling and hauling stands what I am. Stands amused, complacent, compassionating, idle, unitary.

Looks down, is erect, or bends an arm on an impalpable certain rest. Looking with side- curved head curious what will come next.

Both in and out of the game and watching and wondering at it. Backward I see in my own days where I sweated through fog with.

I have no mockings or arguments, I witness and wait. I believe in you my soul, the other I am must not abase itself to you. And you must not be abased to the other. Loafe with me on the grass, loose the stop from your throat.

Not words, not music or rhyme I want, not custom or lecture, not. Only the lull I like, the hum of your valved voice. I mind how once we lay such a transparent summer morning.

How you settled your head athwart my hips and gently turn'd over upon me. And parted the shirt from my bosom- bone, and plunged your tongue. And reach'd till you felt my beard, and reach'd till you held my feet.

Swiftly arose and spread around me the peace and knowledge that pass. And I know that the hand of God is the promise of my own.

And I know that the spirit of God is the brother of my own. And that all the men ever born are also my brothers, and the women. And that a kelson of the creation is love. And limitless are leaves stiff or drooping in the fields. And brown ants in the little wells beneath them.

And mossy scabs of the worm fence, heap'd stones, elder, mullein and. A child said What is the grass? How could I answer the child? I do not know what it is any more than he.

I guess it must be the flag of my disposition, out of hopeful green. Or I guess it is the handkerchief of the Lord. A scented gift and remembrancer designedly dropt. Bearing the owner's name someway in the corners, that we may see. Whose? Or I guess the grass is itself a child, the produced babe of the vegetation. Or I guess it is a uniform hieroglyphic. And it means, Sprouting alike in broad zones and narrow zones.

Growing among black folks as among white. Kanuck, Tuckahoe, Congressman, Cuff, I give them the same, I. And now it seems to me the beautiful uncut hair of graves. Tenderly will I use you curling grass.

It may be you transpire from the breasts of young men. It may be if I had known them I would have loved them. It may be you are from old people, or from offspring taken soon out. Watch Flock Of Dudes Online Facebook there. And here you are the mothers' laps.

This grass is very dark to be from the white heads of old mothers. Darker than the colorless beards of old men. Dark to come from under the faint red roofs of mouths. O I perceive after all so many uttering tongues.

And I perceive they do not come from the roofs of mouths for nothing. I wish I could translate the hints about the dead young men and women. And the hints about old men and mothers, and the offspring taken. What do you think has become of the young and old men? And what do you think has become of the women and children?

They are alive and well somewhere. The smallest sprout shows there is really no death. And if ever there was it led forward life, and does not wait at the. And ceas'd the moment life appear'd.

All goes onward and outward, nothing collapses. And to die is different from what any one supposed, and luckier. Has any one supposed it lucky to be born? I hasten to inform him or her it is just as lucky to die, and I know it. I pass death with the dying and birth with the new- wash'd babe, and.

And peruse manifold objects, no two alike and every one good. The earth good and the stars good, and their adjuncts all good. I am not an earth nor an adjunct of an earth. I am the mate and companion of people, all just as immortal and. They do not know how immortal, but I know.).