Morning in Western New York… naturally, I’m watching my DVR’d BBC World News. Poor Baba Amr. They’re having a war and miserable weather. (So that’s where all our snow went.) Aid has, as of 11 minutes ago, got through, but God, how can it have taken this long for Bashar al-Assad to get here? And why, why must his troops go through with “a particularly grisly set of summary executions” when he must know nobody outside Syria wants him in power anymore? Putin, Vladdy boy, you are a little behind the times if you think these people are willing to sit down and chat. Were that the case, your man al-Assad would take this oppportunity to do so.
Curiously, the leader of the Free Syrian Army is called Riad al-Asaad. Note spelling.
Edith Bouvier, William Daniels, Paul Conroy, and Javier Espinosa have all made it to safety, and the bodies of Marie Colvin and Remi Ochlik will be sent to Damascus, the first leg of the last journey home. I’m never going to forget the photograph of the white plastic bag with Ms Colvin’s name on it in black block letters. Her body was beginning to decay, they said, and the burial process had to begin. Plastic bags with tags on. Threads much?
Iran votes today. Ahmadinejad against Khamenei. It’s moderately rigged. “Meet the new boss/same as the old boss” appears pertinent. Pakistan is also holding elections, cycling out half its Senate.
On a totally different note, no pun intended, Engelbert Humperdinck is England’s Eurovision act. Well, it’s not like Eurovision is a bastion of great taste.
Even more hilarious: Germans select “shitstorm” as “Anglicism of the Year”. That’s my country! If it’s to do with shit, by God, Germans will use it in a curse word.
And that’s your early morning Whatnot. I may do a fluffier one later. Also, I’m transferring entries from Livejournal (still) (there are archives like you would not believe). Pardon our mess.