And now Trump demands the Saudis orbit Israel like it’s some sacred duty? Saudi
https://x.com/Shinamuller/status/2059721167041102033
You know, I’ve been turning this whole rotten circus over in my mind like a person chewing on a bad tooth, and it won’t let go. Trump stands there barking that he won’t seal any peace with Iran unless the Saudis and the Gulf boys come crawling into the Abraham Accords, as if they owe America their souls on a silver platter. “They owe it to us,” he says. Christ, the arrogance of it, the blind, swaggering presumption.
Look back, really look back, to the wreckage after Vietnam. America crawled out of that jungle slaughterhouse broke and bleeding, banks gasping, the dollar half-dead after Nixon yanked it off the gold leash.
Then came the secret handshake with the Saudis. Petrodollars. That quiet, filthy pact where the desert kings agreed to sell their black gold only in American green, and recycle every surplus barrel straight back into U.S. Treasuries and American banks. It was a lifeline, a blood transfusion for an empire that refused to sober up.
Instead of tightening the belt like the Europeans eventually had to, learning some hard discipline after their own wars, America went on the longest bender in history. Four jobs for a family just to stay afloat while the interest on the debt piled higher than the skyscrapers. Forty trillion dollars now hanging over the country like a sword made of pure greed. All that money from the Global South, from every poor bastard filling his tank, cycling straight into Wall Street’s veins so Washington could keep printing, spending, borrowing, and bombing without ever feeling the hangover.
And now Trump demands the Saudis orbit Israel like it’s some sacred duty? Saudi Arabia, that vast, ancient land, birthplace of something far older and deeper than any modern alliance, rich enough to buy its own future from China or build it in its own furnaces. Israel adds what exactly? A subcontractor for security tech? A useful tool, maybe, but hardly the center of the universe. The fantasy that every Arab capital must bow toward Tel Aviv is pure Israeli self-mythology pumped up by American addiction.
The petrodollar machine is wheezing, cracking, maybe already broken in the quiet deals nobody talks about. The world is waking up. The South is tired of feeding the beast. And here Trump is , still shouting that they owe us. Owe us for what? For letting Americans live beyond their means for half a century? For protecting the very system that let them avoid growing up?
It’s a tragic comedy, this American story they could have faced reality after Saigon fell. they could have built something honest. Instead they made a Faustian bargain with the desert and now they’re shocked, shocked, that the bill is due and the partners don’t want to dance anymore. The empire of debt keeps spinning, louder and faster, while the music starts to sound like a death rattle. Somebody needs to wake up before the whole floor drops out. But who the hell is listening?
posted by Satish Sharma at
13:57
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