Oh the humanity:
Per the Royals, Harry saw "the red mist" when William shoved him onto the doggie bowl;
Per the Ukraine: "You are a 22-year-old Ukrainian who has just been handed a Kalashnikov, four magazines of thirty rounds, and body armor. Last week you were studying architecture at Kyiv University. Now an officer puts a hand on your shoulder and says: 'You’re a fire team leader. That's your team'. There are three people behind you. You’ve never seen them before. They await your command." Ukrainian's Paramilitaries.
So who's more alive? The answer might begin with a moving letter written by a young Russian refugee from Severodonetsk, a city in the Donbas region in the northeast part of the Ukraine -- or, maybe in Russia, depending on the day. The stream-of-consciousness account of this extraordinary girl named Ruslana -- having studied Ulysses, age fifteen! -- reflects a kind of "Joyce field" connection that bespeaks this entire besieged population "My Ithaca Burned Down, Too".
There's nothing like an up-close-and-personal existential threat to focus the mind, to give one meaning, and to achieve a hyper-alive awakening. Zelenski's pre-Christmas speech before Congress captured that certain essence with a vivid reckoning there on the front lines of Bakhmut, not too far from Ruslana' previous home (Zelensky Speech)….
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