Rapper, Actor, Gangsta, Spy.

0000 hours.

September 8th, 1996.

Beneath the Las Vegas strip.


The faint sound of sirens drifted down to him from above. Even down here, in the dark, he could hear the chaos that he'd created. The crisis actors they'd employed were right now screaming to the police about the murder they had just witnessed. Hundreds of them. A fake homeless man was telling an LVPD detective about where he'd been when the shooting had started. Two women, planted to portray groupies on the way to the club, were being interveiwed by another about the chase and shoot out that they'd been caught in the midst of. A group of four KBG agents, disguised as South Side crip gang members from LA,  lurked nearby in order to be spotted at the scene. Below it all agent Oleg Abram Romanoff smiled to himself with great satisfaction. After ten long years undercover he was finally able to return home. He longed to shed this identity and be himself again. Still, he would miss it.

It was a lot of fun being Tupac.

1427 hours.

May 23rd, 1985.

Leningrad, Union of Soviet Socialist Republics.

He'd been a very youthful looking seventeen years old when the operation had started. He'd been finishing his eleventh year at St. Petersburg High School 281. On an unremarkable Thursday afternoon he'd been summoned via the loudspeaker from his English class to the principal's office. When he'd arrived he'd found the room occupied not by his principal, Kira Petrovna Gribanovskaya, but by a severe young man in an expensive tailored suit. He was reclined in her chair with his feet on her desk.

"Sit down, Oleg." He ordered him. And sit he did. "Why are you here?"

"You sent for me." He responded simply.

"Ah. Indeed." The man nodded approvingly. "But I do not mean in this room. Why are you here? Why are you in this place?"

"I am here to learn."

"To learn what, exactly?" The man asked with a smile.

"I am currently taking English, Latin, Russian military history with an-"

"No. Stop. This is not what I mean either." He interrupted.

Oleg was puzzled. "I'm afraid I don't understand."

"I know. We will change all of this." Smiling again. He removed his feet from the desk and leaned forward. "I want to know why you are wasting your time in this school reading books you have already read and answering questions you already know the answers to instead of being of use."

"I suppose... I suppose I just haven't found my next step." Oleg admitted reluctantly.

"Yes!" He shouted as he slammed his palms down on the desk. "This is what I suspected! You have not yet found a purpose! Is this not so?"

"Yes. It is so."

"Of course. As I said." The man stood, rounded the desk, and leaned on the front edge of it. Standing between it and Oleg he took a more intimate tone. "Oleg, what if I told you that I could make you one of the biggest stars that the world has ever seen? That your unfortunate skin condition could be your greatest asset?"

Oleg didn't have a "skin condition". Oleg was black. Still, in Russia it was almost accepted that being black was a disability. Luckily for Oleg, he'd been the smartest person in every room he'd ever stepped into since he could walk. At this moment, however, he was not so sure. A million questions swirled around his head. He asked none of them. "I'd ask you where to sign." He said instead.

The man roared with laughter. "Fantastic!" He bellowed, taking Oleg's hand into his own and shaking it, and Oleg, vigorously. "You are doing a great thing for your country. For the world."

"I want nothing more..." He let the last word hang and the man picked up immediately on the implied question.

"Yes, of course. My name." He grinned from ear to ear and reached into his jacket. "My name is Vlad. I will be your handler for this entire operation." From his coat he produced a Walkman.

"Is that... Is that a Sony?!" Oleg asked, impressed despite himself.

"Yes. It's for you, Oleg." He handed Oleg the coveted object. "But more important than the Walkman is the tape inside it. Press play."

Oleg placed the headphones on his ears and hit the play button. From the tiny speakers blared music that he'd never heard the like of before. There was rock guitars, heavy drums, keyboards, and all manner of strange instruments that he couldn't place. Over all of it, in time with the beat, was heavily American accented talking.

"What is this?" Oleg asked, yelling over the music that only he could hear. Vlad laughed and pulled the headphones gently from his ears.

"Run DMC." Vlad said.

"Run what?"

"It's called Hip Hop, Oleg." He said, laughing.  "It's going to change the world. And you're going to help."

Vlad grabbed him by his shoulders and lifted him to his feet so that they were face to face and eye to eye.

"I am going to make you the biggest rapper that ever lived, Oleg. I'm going to make you a legend. I'm going to put all eyes on you." He turned back to the desk, plucked his hat from it's surface, and put it on. "Come on, my boy. It's time we make some changes."

HITLER WAS NOT A SOCIALIST.

An oft repeated right wing lie that must be debunked whenever possible.

Firstly, I'm not a Marxist. I'm not especially a socialist, either, although I do believe that healthcare should be socialized. That's another post entirely, though. One, now that I think of it, I may write later. But I digress...

The Nazis outlawed socialism. They were imprisoning, and killing, socialists and communists before they were killing Jews. 

There were socialists in the Nazi party initially. They were represented mainly by the Strasser brothers and Strasserism. Guess what happened to them? Otto Strasser was expelled from the party in 1930 after a disagreement with Hitler over Hitler's disregard for socialist ideals during which Hitler repeatedly called Strasser a "liberal". He later went into exile in Czechoslovakia. The other brother, Gregor Strasser? Murdered during the Night of the Long Knives. 

Hitler didn't even believe in socialist economic principles nor did he institute them.

“Hitler was never a socialist. But although he upheld private property, individual entrepreneurship, and economic competition, and disapproved of trade unions and workers' interference in the freedom of owners and managers to run their concerns, the state, not the market, would determine the shape of economic development. Capitalism was, therefore, left in place. But in operation it was turned into an adjunct of the state."

            - Hitler 1936 – 45: Nemisis, by Ian Kershaw.

“We have to strip the terms ‘Nationalism’ and ‘Socialism’ of their previous meaning. Only that man is a nationalist who stands by his people, and only that man is a socialist who stands up for the rights of his people both internally and externally.”

            - Adolf Hitler, November 16, 1928.

There are so many articles that have been written on why Hitler was not a socialist that I honestly don't understand how anyone could fall for a lie so blatant.

Here is Reddit featuring many, many people debunking this nonsense. 

Here is a youtube video debunking the claim as made by Steven Crowder, a well known lying piece of shit -

Here is Professor David Klein of California State University, Northridge debunking the same myth.

Here's a Guardian opinion piece about this continually repeated lie. 

Here's a piece written by Albert Einstein on socialism.

Here's the definition of socialism itself for the people that are confused. 

When you search google for Hitler's links to left wing socialism you'll find yourself all but drowned in a murky green soup of right wing propaganda sites that try to distance themselves from this obviously right wing fascist dictator. Infowars, CNS, TheRebel, TheNationalReview, etc. The target of this fallacy is obvious, right wingers that don't check sources.  It's intended goal is equally obvious – Fear mongering.

“Look how the left is the enemy!” They scream. 

Ironically, this is exactly why Hitler sometimes claimed to be a socialist. It was a way to win over the workers with words while he acted in whichever way suited him best.

If he was such a left winger and a socialist then why was he supported by the right and by big business? Big business which, by the way, flourished before, during, and even after the war.

This shit is basic as hell and I feel like I shouldn't even have to write it... but I clearly do... So here it is.

Have a great day.

Time is of the essence.

Remember those people that said during the election “Trump can't do half of the crazy things he's saying he'll do”?

“Don't worry.” They'd coo. “He can't hurt things that much!”

But, oh dear, is he trying real hard right now.

I'm not being partisan when I say that he's destroying our nation's image among allies and foes alike. Republicans are feeling it, too. Trump isn't even a Republican to begin with. You've known this all along really, Republicans, but the win was important to you. Now you have to decide if it's more important than the country.

Nevertheless, those optimists from before the election were technically correct, which is the best kind, when they doubted his ability to destroy us all. It is not, however, from lack of effort, ability, or motive, but a lack of intelligence. He tried to pull off a great con, because DONALD TRUMP IS A CONMAN, and he isn't smart enough to pull it off. The marks are starting to get wise. The jig is up. The buzzards are circling the carcass.

His network of shady businessmen is already crumbling. Soon, it will be every man for himself in Trumpland. If you're paying attention you can actually see the wheels coming off. They'll tear each other apart trying to stay out of jail or, on the Russian side of things, not get straight up murdered. These men aren't built for prison, even a cushy federal one, and they know it. Maybe they'll surprise me and we'll watch Trump grow old gracefully on the lush links of Agola state penitentiary.

Even if Pence survives the impeachment things will be improved. Just think of everyone that goes away when Trump does. Bannon. Gone. Tillerson. Gone. Sessions. Conway. Kushner. Ivanka. Gone. Spicer gone, obviously. That little bottom feeder will be lucky to get the Easter bunny job back. I'm feeling increasingly secure in the knowledge that Mattis and McMaster are around. If there's anyone connected to Trump that I have any faith in, it's those two men. We're going to need guys like these in the coming days. This treason will tear our government apart but what rises from the ashes is up to us and we need to remember; Country over party.

Trumpkins are starting to get that now. They're seeing that they were lied to and they do not like it. They're not ready to admit defeat to liberals yet, so bitterly do they hate that word, but they're beginning to acknowledge that this Trump thing may have been a mistake. They're less vocal in their support and much less eager to defend him. I don't see a whole lot of MAGA hats around these days, do you? His slowly eroding base should give hope to all patriotic Americans. Hell, to people all over the world.

One thing still looms ominously on the horizon - North Korea. Trump is rattling sabers loudly and I think that it's because he believes a war will save his ailing presidency. I believe he's insane enough to try regardless. He's not going to go down easily. Oh no, not our Donald. Trump is going to go down kicking and screaming, taking everything and everyone along with him, fighting until the bitter end. Hopefully, we can stop him before he starts something that we can't fix.

The honeymoon is over.

“BUT WHY?!” The Donald screamed as he slammed his small, soft hands down on the Resolute desk. His anger forced his voice two full octaves higher and made him sound like a petulant child.

“Don-” Paul Ryan began. The Donald cut him off.

“MR. PRESIDENT!” The Donald whined.

“Mr. President...” Ryan choked out the words. “We don't have the support.”

“Well, maybe if you'd made it better! Why is it so bad? You're the worst! SAD!” The last word he almost spit out involuntarily, as though he suffered from Tourette's.

“You said you liked it yes-” Ryan was cut off again.

“FAKE NEWS!” The Donald began sputtering. “You are just as bad as CNN and NBC! Fox and friends knows! You're just like the fake dishonest media! SAD!”

“Do-Mr. President, this isn't the end of the fight. We can rewrite it and reintroduce it. We can-” Ryan pleaded.

“No! The stupid loser Democrats want Obamacare? Fine! They can have it! Steve told me that it's going to explode anyway and, when it does, it'll be their fault! They're going to have to come to me for help and I'll make them all come down to Mar-A-Lago and eat the meatloaf! Get out of my office!” The Donald turned his back and stared angrily out of the window.

“Yes, Mr. President.” Ryan said. As he left the Oval Office, closing the door behind him, a tear rolled down his cheek.

“Sad.” He said to himself quietly as he wiped it away.