Big Red Car here on an early Thursday morning. Hey, it’s Thursday and who doesn’t love Thursday? Let’s talk gravitas, shall we? [No, gravitas is not something you eat on a toasted bagel with capers and chopped onion. Sorry.]
So, the Trump administration has begun to engage with the Russians.
The first notable engagement was the launch of sixty Tomahawk cruise missiles to strike client state Syria. [The Trump admin launched SIXTY and only FIFTY-NINE made it to the target. Hey, Raytheon dudes, can we get a refund on the one that went swimming?]
When you cruise missile a sovereign country on the first date, that sends a certain message as to the seriousness of your intentions. No? Stuff is getting real and fast. Hang on.
Thugs, Russian Thugs
Russia is a little country (same size economy as Italy), but they are some major league thugs. If they did not possess nuclear weapons, they would cause as much trouble to the world as, well, Italy.
This is a country which invaded Georgia (not the SEC conference Dawgs, the other Georgia over by Russia), Afghanistan, and Crimea. Russia bluffed the Obama administration out of deploying a missile defense shield in Europe. Bluffed them like a big dog. [Barack told Vlad he’d have a lot more “flexibility” after the election.]
Why are the Russians such a bunch of shitheads, you ask?
Not serious foreign policy, no gravitas
The Russians are such thugs because nobody has checked them. Nobody meaning this guy, former President Barack “Red Line” Obama. This guy punished them by forbidding them access to Disney Land (was it Disney LAND or Disney WORLD? Sheesh. It wasn’t much, was it?).
President Putin used to steal President Obama’s lunch money on the international stage. He would also give him a wedgie.
Do you remember the giggly RE-SET BUTTON affair when our new, chic Secretary of State had all the fun with the Russian Foreign Minister Lavrov? [OK, I admit using the word “chic” in the same sentence with Hillary Clinton is a stretch, but go along with it, please. I promise not to do it again.]
When you beclown your foreign policy, thugs like Vladimir Putin will take advantage of you. He is a monster and we are trying to use a deodorant spray to make him smell better, when what he needs is the Tomahawk cruise missile. He understands that.
Gravitas, serious foreign policy
The foreign policy team of the Trump administration is not a bunch of giggly lightweights with reset buttons. They are serious Alpha Male guys who know which restroom to use and aren’t fooling around.
The President is a loud mouthed bully — in the nicest sense of the word, mind you. He is a guy who is not afraid to call bullshit on America’s enemies and he is prepared to lean forward in his saddle. He will not telegraph his punches and, yes, he will punch you. He took out 20% of Syria’s air force, a good step toward a no-fly zone by attrition.
In a single week, he goes from being Vladimir Putin’s best friend and confidant to a guy heading the US to a war with Russia because he is not carrying Vlad’s water. [You have to give the lefties high marks for being able to pivot on a dime and for flexibility.]
The Secretary of State was running Exxon Mobil a year ago and knows something about Russia.
The Secretary of Defense is a Marine four star guy named “Mad Dog.” Whoever has a Secretary of Defense [Big Red Car thinks it should be changed to the Secretary of OFFENSE, but that’s just me, y’all. Let’s call it the way we see it, no?] named Mad Dog is going to have a lot of freakin’ gravitas.
Test question — quick, who is the Russian Secretary of Defense equivalent? Is he called Mad Dog? See what I did there? Yeah.
So, there you have, dear readers. This guy
is dealing with this crazy guy. [Pro tip: When guys take to strutting about with their nipples showing, you’re dealing with the thug life. Deal with it and deal with them — fiercely. They understand fierce.]
Gravitas, Big Red Car?
OK, let’s review things. Here is the old regime.
Here is the enemy. Yes, just like Mitt Romney said, our greatest geopolitical foe is this guy.
This is our new guy.
This is our old guy, who likes to pal around with Communist dictators with band-aids on their hands.
So, there you have it, dear reader. Gravitas. Go long on gravitas.