Has anyone here read _Between Summer's Longing and Winter's End_?

I just finished it - wow!

It's by Swedish author Leif GW Persson. It's the first book of a trilogy concerning the 1986 assassination of Sweden's Prime Minister Olof Palme. I actually remember that event when it happened, because it was so shocking. And it was never solved.

I could hardly stand to go to bed while I was reading it. 551 pages, and extemely hard to put down at the end of the day.

I'm about to start the second book of the trilogy. It starts with a story concerning the Baader-Meinhof group - more long-ago news events that remain in my memory.

I came across this author without having a clue about his work - his name just showed up in "Similar books by other authors..." on the Fantastic Fiction site http://www.fantasticfiction.co.uk/ while I was browsing various Scandinavian crime fiction books. I asked my local librarian to see if there were any books by Leif Persson available, and a week later I got the first two books of this trilogy (the 3rd book won't be out until sometime next year).

Anyway, if you're interested in how leftist leaders end up getting assassinated, and what dirty dealings go on behind the curtain with security agencies (including our own dear CIA), this book is a totally fascinating read.

The problem is, pretty much everybody has bought in.

If you use a credit card, you've bought in.

If you pay for a cable TV subscription, you've bought in.

If you wait in line to buy the latest video gaming system/iphone/whatever, you've bought in.

If you have an account with Citibank, Bank of America, Chase, or any other mega-bank, you've bought in.

If you are "saving" for retirement with a 401K, you've bought in.

If you buy clothes made in China/Bangladesh/Guatemala/etc., you've bought in.

If you buy gas for your car, you've bought in.

If you heat your home with fossil fuels (fuel oil, natural gas, propane), you've bought in.

If you use all the water you want without thinking about it, you've bought in.

The evils you outline in your post are made possible by all of us buying in - buying into this comfortable way of life that affirms and supports the worst of capitalism and the human greed that enables it.

You know why people hate the homeless? Because the homeless are folks who won't buy in.

Thank you. "I want to be the spanner in the works..."

Silly me, I thought the First Amendment of the U.S. Constitution WAS the "shield law".

Kissinger, the undead. So thoroughly evil even Hell won't have him.

Feasts on the blood of infants, bathes in the blood of fresh-killed virgins, powders his hair with the ground bones of his victims. Oh, yes, the zombie vampire statesman himself. The walking Curse of the World. Foul creature of the charnel ground.

Like Kerry, I would meet with him - unlike Kerry, I would come armed with a sharpened wooden stake and a heavy mallet.

"Do you like to ride?" He asked, his icy blue eyes seeming to look into my very soul.

A hot flush suffused my face and neck. My breath caught in my throat. I had to lower my gaze as I fought to quell the trembling that seemed to spread from my very core, rendering all my limbs weak. I stammered a whispered, "Yes, sir." and pressed back against the wall of the cottage as I struggled to hold myself from falling faint.

His hard calloused hand gently stroked my cheek, then softly grasped my chin, raising my head up again, to meet his searching eyes. "You must come with me, little comrade. You are meant for finer things than harvesting potatoes in the hot sun."

Without another word his strong hands clasped my waist and lifted me onto the bare back of his waiting steed. A moment later, with the grace of a mighty lion, he vaulted onto the muscular back of his beautiful golden mount, settling in front of me. "Hold on to me, little comrade, hold tight!" And with a forceful nudge of his heels against the horse's flanks, we set off at a gallop.

Oh, how to describe that wild reckless run across the steppes! Flying over the ground, my thighs pressed tightly against the rolling muscles of the galloping horse, my arms wrapped tightly around his muscular torso, pressing my breasts against the warm, sweat-dampened skin of his bare back.

I had no sense of time, nor of the miles passing. I felt utterly taken outside myself, with no thought but for the ecstatic sensations of the wind passing by and the heat the bodies beneath and before me.

It seemed a timeless time until we reached a shaded glade at the edge of a forest. With just a word he brought his steed to a stop, then dismounted in a single graceful leap, and his sinewy hands wrapped around my waist and set me on the ground.

Without a word he wrapped his arms around me, and suddenly his warm lips were pressed against mine. I felt myself quivering with desire and surrendered utterly. As one we sank down upon the mossy bed, surrounded by the tall fragrant pines towering above us. My heartbeat was racing as his hot mouth slid down to my throat, while his hands expertly began to unlace my bodice. I felt his manhood swelling against my trembling thighs.

"Oh yes, take me!" I moaned...

"Do you like to ride?" He asked, his icy blue eyes seeming to look into my very soul.

A hot flush suffused my face and neck. My breath caught in my throat. I had to lower my gaze as I fought to quell the trembling that seemed to spread from my very core, rendering all my limbs weak. I stammered a whispered, "Yes, sir." and pressed back against the wall of the cottage as I struggled to hold myself from falling faint.

His hard calloused hand gently stroked my cheek, then softly grasped my chin, raising my head up again, to meet his searching eyes. "You must come with me, little comrade. You are meant for finer things than harvesting potatoes in the hot sun."

Without another word his strong hands clasped my waist and lifted me onto the bare back of his waiting steed. A moment later, with the grace of a mighty lion, he vaulted onto the muscular back of his beautiful golden mount, settling in front of me. "Hold on to me, little comrade, hold tight!" And with a forceful nudge of his heels against the horse's flanks, we set off at a gallop.

Oh, how to describe that wild reckless run across the steppes! Flying over the ground, my thighs pressed tightly against the rolling muscles of the galloping horse, my arms wrapped tightly around his muscular torso, pressing my breasts against the warm, sweat-dampened skin of his bare back.

I had no sense of time, nor of the miles passing. I felt utterly taken outside myself, with no thought but for the ecstatic sensations of the wind passing by and the heat the bodies beneath and before me.

It seemed a timeless time until we reached a shaded glade at the edge of a forest. With just a word he brought his steed to a stop, then dismounted in a single graceful leap, and his sinewy hands wrapped around my waist and set me on the ground.

Without a word he wrapped his arms around me, and suddenly his warm lips were pressed against mine. I felt myself quivering with desire and surrendered utterly. As one we sank down upon the mossy bed, surrounded by the tall fragrant pines towering above us. My heartbeat was racing as his hot mouth slid down to my throat, while his hands expertly began to unlace my bodice. I felt his manhood swelling against my trembling thighs.

"Oh yes, take me!" I moaned...

"Actions have ends." Maybe you forgot that 2 years ago, in 2011, Obama began saying "Assad must go"?

Maybe you've missed the news that the CIA has been arming the insurgents for some time, and that the U.S. has recently pledged to increase the amount of arms going to them? What kind of "ends" does this lead up to except regime change?

And maybe you've also missed the news that Saudi Arabia has promised to entirely bankroll a U.S. strike on Syria? Yes, those well-known humanitarians, the House of Saud, has offered to pay for using U.S. muscle to "degrade" Assad's capabilities. Entirely out of concern for the dead children, I'm sure.

And Israel, who had no problem with using white phosphorus in poplulated areas of the Gaza Strip, is becoming rather concerned that the U.S. might not go through with bombing Syria. APAIC is planning on a busy week lobbying our Congresscritters.

I stand by what I posted.

The PNAC may no longer exist as a formal organization (above ground, that is),

but their plans live on in those disposed to that particular world view.

As for Saudi Arabia, it's been reported for some time that they are funding at least certain factions of the "rebels", and it was just reported in the last day or so that SA have offered to pay all the costs of a U.S. military strike on Syria. Sorry I don't have a link handy, but it's been posted several times on DU over this weekend.

It's also no secret that SA is worried about Iran obtaining nuclear weapons - this has been a long-standing theme of several year's standing.

Along with the Sunni (SA)/Shia (Iran) thing, the relationship between SA and Iran is not disimilar to the relationship between the U.S. and the Soviet Union during the early beginnings of the Cold War. SA wants to make sure Iran doesn't get nukes, because SA wants to remain the dominant power in the region.

Please understand, any U.S. military action in Syria means that we're being dragged into a proxy war

between Saudi Arabia and Iran, with Israel cheering it on. Sunni Saudi Arabia wants uncontested hegemonic power in the region, and Shiite Iran is its main rival. Israel has been pimping for an attack on Iran for years, and nothing would make them happier than to see Iran enveloped in the general ME chaos.

On a larger scale, this is all part of the PNAC blueprint, to destablize the entire Middle East, to foment "regime change" in one country after another - always protecting the interests of Big Oil.

Is THIS what you really want the U.S. to be a part of? Because if you're supporting an attack on Syria, this is what you're really signing up for.

(edited for typo)