It’s laughable to read how, in 2025, Western politicians and think-tankers nervously reassure their citizens: supposedly, by 2030, Russia won’t dare attack Europe because it’s too exhausted by the war against Ukraine, isolation, and sanctions.
Let’s tear this myth apart.
The global geopolitical chessboard has rarely been this tense, and scenarios that seemed like fantasy yesterday are now nearly obvious. At the center of this global game are three players, each acting with cynical pragmatism: the US, China, and Russia. While Europe sinks into toothless consultations and expressions of “concern,” the big players are quietly making deals, shaping the world’s future on their own terms.
Giveaway ends July 28, 2025.
See the giveaway details at Goodreads.
In today’s world, the economy and migration are not just interconnected phenomena. They are like the heart and bloodstream of globalization. Wherever capital flows, people eventually follow. But in recent decades, we’ve seen two radically different strategies shaping these flows: the globalist model of U.S. Democrats and the protectionist vision of the Republicans.
While the media points fingers at anarchists, left-wing radicals, or foreign agitators, a more unsettling question is emerging: what if the mastermind behind the unrest is none other than Donald Trump himself?
While the world watches explosions rock the Baltics and Arctic maneuvers intensify in the Barents Sea, a geopolitical theater unfolds behind the curtain—one where the United States plays the self-declared savior, “rescuing” what no one asked it to rescue. The twist? The script seems to be written in Moscow.
In "American Studies: Psychoanalysis of America through the Image of Harley Quinn", the author offers an incredibly profound and groundbreaking perspective on contemporary America through the lens of one of the most controversial and iconic characters in popular culture — Harley Quinn. This is not just a literary work, but a psychoanalytic exploration of a nation, wherein the author draws connections between personal trauma, social marginalization, and the mechanisms of power. The book presents a fresh perspective on American culture, politics, and societal processes, challenging conventional views of freedom, success, and morality.
Journalists from Newsweek created a map that imagines the world divided among three powers: the USA (Trump), Russia (Putin), and China (Xi). This geopolitical "triumvirate" looks provocative — but if you think carefully, each part of the puzzle carries its own internal logic.
In a shocking cosmic pattern that defies coincidence, the United States is once again approaching a pivotal and painful period of transformation — all under the sign of Gemini, with Uranus as its celestial harbinger. This pattern, repeated throughout U.S. history, suggests that a fourth great war is not only likely but perhaps inevitable. And the clock is ticking: Uranus will enter Gemini on July 7, 2025, and stay there until 2032 — a period poised to shake the foundations of the American experiment.
J.D. Vance, Donald Trump’s running mate and vice president, has made no secret of his admiration for Vladimir Putin. From wearing Soviet-themed T-shirts to praising the Russian model of governance, he embodies a growing faction of the American right that romanticizes authoritarian rule. They view the USSR’s legacy not as a cautionary tale but as a blueprint for an America where the government exerts absolute control, cracks down on opposition, and enforces rigid social order.
But what if the U.S. actually tried to become the Soviet Union? If America fully embraced the USSR experiment, seduced by the attractive packaging—social equality, free healthcare, military might—what would follow? Would it be a utopia of order and prosperity, or a catastrophic freefall into totalitarian rule, economic collapse, and mass oppression?
The answer lies in history, and history suggests a hard landing
Donald Trump has long expressed admiration for strongman leaders. From Vladimir Putin to Kim Jong-un, he has openly praised autocrats for their ability to rule without the checks and balances of democratic institutions. Time and again, he has voiced envy for their capacity to make decisions unburdened by parliaments, courts, or dissenting voices. More than once, Trump has hinted at his own aspirations for absolute power, floating the idea of ruling as a “dictator for a day” and making comments that suggest a deep-seated desire to govern without constraint.
Yet, what is most striking is that his supporters don’t recoil from such rhetoric—in fact, they embrace it. Many of them genuinely believe that a Trump dictatorship would serve their interests, crushing their perceived enemies while elevating their own status. But history, and logic, suggest otherwise. Dictators do not remain loyal to their followers. The very authoritarianism that Trump's base celebrates in theory will, in practice, be turned against them.
For most of its history, the United States was a nation built on migration. Millions arrived on its shores, bringing new ideas, skills, and energy that fueled economic and cultural growth. The American Dream was, in essence, the promise that anyone could come, work hard, and become part of a thriving society. Migration was not only tolerated but encouraged—an essential ingredient in the country's success.
However, today, the same country that once prided itself on welcoming the “huddled masses yearning to breathe free” now sees migration as a crisis and a threat. The very lifeblood that once sustained the U.S. is now treated as poison. Why has the nation lost its ability to absorb migrants? And does this signal the beginning of the end for the American experiment?
The Roman Empire, once the pinnacle of Western civilization, ultimately fractured into two halves: the Western Roman Empire and the Eastern Roman Empire (Byzantium). This division signaled the beginning of the end for Rome’s dominance, as the empire struggled with both internal strife and external threats. Today, we are witnessing a similar fracture in the Western world, with the United States and Europe diverging in their geopolitical priorities.
The Munich Security Conference, once a symbol of Western unity, has now become a stage for revealing the growing rift between Washington and its European allies. The United States, increasingly focused on the Indo-Pacific, is demonstrating a waning interest in protecting Europe from external threats. The message from Washington is clear: Europe must take responsibility for its own security.
