The Audacity of Manchurian Candidacies
In the long-wars view of “fundamental transformation,” raped and murdered ambassadors are but bumps in the road. The eggs broken that, when cleverly whisked, become part of the omelets of “problem solving” that almost always winds up with more iron-fisted governmental control over something. The pawns that people your tactical chess board, useful idiots who believe that, because they get a horsey or a castle, they somehow matter in a way that protects them. All disposable, at the right time and under the necessary circumstances. Which is the Greater Good: the long term victory of the strategy to destroy the free market capitalist republican system of government, even out the global playing field, and, in the end, create a global bureaucratic authority that in important ways oversees the de-fanged autonomy of presumptuous, imperialist, racist, individual nations.
But what you never, ever, ever do in such a game is sacrifice your Queen. The real one, not the one running around starving school children and buying expensive jewelry.
At least, you don’t sacrifice the Queen until one of very last moves of the game — and even then, you’d better know that she knows you better than you do yourself and may be waiting with a dagger of her own hidden just beneath that folded vanity fan she keeps to brush away the ankle-biters and hangers on.
The left always protects their own. Until it becomes necessary for the movement that they kill them off, usually without much of a second thought.
It’s quaint, in a medieval sort of way.
(thanks to TerryH)