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hero-israel · 3 months

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Hi, if you don't mind answering, I have a question regarding Israel. I figured any Jewish person in Israel or not probably knows better than I could guess after occasionally reading Tumblr for a couple of months. What do you think is right/wrong about the Israel government, what should it be like and what should it do now? I would be thankful if you could answer.

Some context, if it makes any difference why I'm asking: I'm Ukrainian, and I was surprised first time I saw people comparing Israel with russia. It felt wrong to me from the start, cause it made more sense to compare terrorists with terrorists instead. Western leftists seem ignorant and delusional to argue with them, but I also saw this opinion from some Ukrainians on twitter, so I got interested to learn a bit more to get proper arguments against this comparison. Then I learned that quite a lot of Jewish people here are against current actions of the Israel government in Gaza, which at first looked strange to me cause it's a very different situation from what we have in Ukraine. I figured that Jewish people are the best source to learn "what's wrong with Israel government" without being flooded by conspiracy theories. I support Israel, but I don't want to support things that most of you guys actually disagree with. And another thing, personally I don't see how it's possible to get rid of hamas without harming civilians in Gaza, but I saw here Jewish people arguing that both Palestinian and Israeli civilians shouldn't be harmed. That's why I asked a few people on Tumblr what they think Israel should do to get some opinions, though perhaps my question among attacks was seen as an attack too. So this time I add this long clarification, sorry about that 😅

Thank you for the insight - I particularly appreciate hearing what this sounds like from Ukrainians as they face their own crisis.

I support actions that protect Jewish lives and Jewish rights, everywhere in the world, including in Israel. I want governments moral enough and strong enough to do that, everywhere, including in Israel. Sadly, Israel is really fucking it up for the last year.

No one should be happy with what is happening in Gaza. It is an appalling humanitarian disaster, exactly as Hamas planned it would be. Once they were able to stage their attack, Israel had no choice but to invade; to have done anything other than invade would have sent a message to all their enemies that they would just lie back and take it, and that is a message they cannot afford to send.

The current Israeli government is one of the most ultra-right-wing, revolting, criminal, and incompetent out of any democratic nation in the world. Their stupidity made the Hamas attack possible. Benjamin Netanyahu has been PM forever and kept winning elections because despite his ugly, crooked personality, he was good at the job, good from economic and diplomatic perspectives, and avoided major change with the Palestinians. As he stayed in office longer and got more crooked with age, his scandals and campaign crimes piled up until it really looked like he could face prison for it. For a cruelly, tantalizingly brief period, the more forward-thinking elements of Israeli society were able to oust the far-right parties, but eventually that fell apart for the dumbest and most aggravating reason ever and Netanyahu was able to come back. This time he boosted up fringe ultra-right-wing candidates who were too extreme to function in a "real" government but who promised to help him change laws so he wouldn't go to jail. The actual process of changing those laws - transparently to end the investigations of the MULTIPLE indicted or convicted criminals in this government - tore Israeli society apart. People were warning for MONTHS that military readiness was plummeting. The Hamas attack plan had been known since around 2015 and an even more detailed version surfaced last year. They were all just too busy working to legalize crime and settle old scores than on watching the border where the genocidal fascist militia lives.

I don't know what the proper plan at this point is. After 3 months, I'm still very much emotionally stuck on "what you are supposed to do is PREVENT THIS, YOU IDIOTS, THAT IS YOUR JOB, AND NOT A HARD ONE." I don't think I will ever get past that, it was so obvious and I had been losing sleep all year fully expecting something like this to happen. Within the first few weeks after the attack, I saw a message from former PM Naftali Bennett about how it would be relatively quick and easy to flood all the Gaza tunnels with seawater and that would solve the problem; kill off Hamas troops, destroy their weapons, collapse their bases. Clearly they haven't done that yet. Does that mean it can't be done? If it can be done, then I lean towards thinking the current campaign should go on until it is done. If it can't be done, then I'd like to hear exactly what the goal of this incursion is and how long they expect it to last. Are they going to kill 30,000 people in the course of disarming and expelling Hamas? Or are they going to kill 30,000 people and Hamas will still be a recognizable threat anyway? If it's the latter, why kill all those people, why not stop now? When do they stop? Those are fair questions.

Basically all Jews "support Israel," insofar as they want it to keep existing as a Jewish state. Basically all Jews who support Israel also truly have no ill will toward Palestinians. They see Palestinians' problems as being less severe than the problems Jews have faced, historically and recently, and not worth the risks to Jews if an Israel did not exist. They believe in peace and want there to be a two-state solution, either because they really want a better life for Palestinians or because they want to stop feeling vaguely guilty about the occupation, or a mix of both.

I hope this was in any way helpful and regret that I couldn't be more precise about what the future plan should be.

#israel #palestine #gaza #benjamin netanyahu #ukraine #itamar ben-gvir #jumblr

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sgiandubh · 9 months

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Lightbulb moment

I was writing something else and then it suddenly dawned on me.

It's not being called a stupid bitch, a delusional fool, a tin foil hat idiot, by people who do not know me, never will meet me (and would probably feel intimidated if they did, in a real life context), that insults me the most.

You don't argue or negotiate with this kind of people: once set on something, there is nothing stopping them.

But what baffles and also insults me most is to realize that these people would most probably be very happy if I, or other like-minded women, would miraculously shut up. And forever vanish into pixelated oblivion, just like that and just because they said so.

That most of these people hail from countries with undisputed democratic traditions, yet still feel entitled to police and sanction others simply for expressing an opinion on a very mundane topic, is beyond me. Being told I am not allowed to question a narrative proceeds from a totalitarian belief in superior righteousness, something I will never tolerate.

This Eastern European, who saw people die in the streets of her hometown for the right to be different, will not yield to your hypocrisy.

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anamericangirl · 7 months

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1. You're delusional. No one is forcing kids to be LGBTQ

2. The party switch was a real thing that did happen. In the 1960s, the parties switched on the issue of civil rights. This is evident from that fact that republicans gained political control of the south, the kkk becoming majority republican, the kkk support every republican presidential candidate in every election since 1960, and the lost cause ideology being purported and repeated by southern republicans.

Wow so basically you just believe whatever you’re told to believe regardless of what reality is. Unfortunately for you it takes more than “that’s not true” to convince me of something but I know that’s the strongest argument you’ve got because you know you’re wrong.

The big switch didn’t happen and if you actually looked at history and didn’t just believe whatever the tv tells you then you would know that.

Voter base changed, platforms and values did not.

The democrats have always been the racist party. They were at their founding and they remain so today. Every racist policy and law you’ve ever heard of was a democrat policy and you can’t erase that by pretending the parties just swapped sides and now everything the democrats did is the republicans fault. I know a lot of people like to say that happened but looking at history proves it wrong.

So stop trying to excuse racism and blame it on the party that isn’t responsible for it.

But I do love how you tried to prove the big switch by only having the KKK as an example as if they are a prominent group in the US and how they vote and their history is all that matters when talking about the history of the two party system lol.

#anon #answered

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sailorkamino · 1 year

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healing and meditation (hunter's pov)

wildflower masterlist

relationships: twi'lek!jedi!reader x hunter [gn, can be platonic or romantic]

word count: 2.1k

summary: hunter, used to being the sole authority figure of his batch, worries you'll complicate things. through communication and force osik he realizes sharing the responsibility isn't so bad.

warnings: sensory overload, migraines, anxiety, fear of medical practices, gossiping shinies, cross doesn't trust you yet

mando'a translations: osik- shit

Four man squads typically have a sergeant and corporal but not clone force 99. To be fair, clone force 99 has never been like other clones. Hunter has always been the sole leader. Until you.

Your first simulation together is not great. Well you’re great by yourself and they're great as a unit but you don’t know how to work together yet. In the beginning Hunter instinctually starts giving orders, completely forgetting you're his superior officer.

When you land behind Tech to cover him he turns in surprise and almost eats lightsaber. Wrecker is so distracted by your use of the force he stops mid battle to gawk. Crosshair hisses like a feral tooka when a blade comes too close to his beloved firepuncher.

You’re running and leaping so fast between droids they wind up shooting way too close to you for comfort. You don’t seem phased but Hunter almost has a heart attack everytime.

Together you pass. Barely. Hunter is both annoyed and embarrassed at their own performance. Still you don’t seem upset. He wonders if you’re optimistic or just delusional. You tell him to come to your temporary quarters after late meal.

That evening he’s knocking on your door. You weren’t in the mess hall much to the regs’ disappointment. He heard a few gossiping about you and Commander Wolffe. Is that why you weren’t there? Because you wanted alone time with Wolffe? Or are you upset over the sim? It certainly wasn’t their best performance.

You let him in with a kind smile. Hunter can’t recall anyone being happy to see him but here you are. Or you’re a really good actor. He doesn’t know you well enough to tell yet.

Your quarters are like the rest of Kamino: clinical and barren. You plop on the edge of the bed, gesturing to a chair. “Please take a seat. Sorry I couldn’t talk to you earlier. I promised some cadets I would teach a melee class.”

He doesn’t know why you’re apologizing to him. This is the time you agreed to meet at. He’s seen enough holofilms on Tech’s datapad to know nat borns talk like this sometimes. “No need to apologize, sir.”

“You don’t have to call me my rank outside of missions. I know that’s a bit unorthodox but that’s actually why I feel drawn to your unit, I think you’re unorthodox as well.”

Hunter nods slowly. They have a much looser command structure than most units. “Yes sir,” he replies instinctually. He winces when he realizes he broke your rule but you offer a small reassuring smile.

"I’m used to working with a fellow commander so I’m not gonna go on an ego trip if you speak your mind. I'd rather you correct me than get one of your brothers hurt. I try to be as democratic as possible.”

Suddenly you hold out your open palm as a datapad flies into it. His eyes widen at the casual display of power but you’re busy tapping on the device. “Tech sent me your battle plans and codes. I have a few questions if you don’t mind.”

Hunter leaves the meeting much lighter. You actually treat him like an equal and value his input. Your teamwork improves with each sim as the batch finds ways to incorporate your force abilities.

Hunter finds your most intimidating power is your empathy. You look at him like you can right through him. It makes him uncomfortable. He’s always been the strong one. Not only as a sergeant, but as the oldest brother. When he feels a migraine coming on he knows he won’t be able to hide it for long.

What started off as a headache is slowly mounting. Everything is suddenly too much. He can tell a sensory overload is inevitable but it’s like watching a speeder wreck, there’s nothing he can do to stop it. And that fuels anxiety.

Hunter wants nothing more than to crawl into his bunk and hide from the world but he doesn’t know the protocol. Should you dismiss him? Should you debrief?

You begin a conversation with Wrecker he’s unable to follow. From the corner of the ship, as far away from his unit as possible while still being in the room, Hunter flinches. When you don’t answer Wrecker looks back at his older brother and his eyes insantly widen.

“What’s wrong, sarge?” You ask softly.

He looks at you in alarm. He didn’t want you to think he was a liability, or try to force medical care on him when he just wants to hide in a blanket fort. He hopes you don’t try to sic that med droid on him. You would be really upset if he stabbed it. You treat that thing like a pet.

Now Tech and Crosshair are looking at him too, recognition in their gazes. “He’s overstimulated, sir,” Tech answers, a bit hesitant.

“Hunter, go lay down. Next time this happens you tell me,” you state in your general voice, startling the clones around you. Off field you tend to be very laid back. His anxiety grows heavier in his chest. “Yes sir,” he answers weakly, gray eyes much dimmer than usual, trudging towards his cabin.

“Boys, help your brother.” You order. Crosshair is the one who stands to follow Hunter, the others watching in silence. It makes sense only one goes (specifically the quietest) not wanting to overwhelm the sergeant anymore.

Hunter faintly recognizes your sweet-but-not-too-strong scent as you enter the room moments later, your steps practically silent in the way only jedi walk. Crosshair stops mid tuck in to shoot you a protective glare. Hunter silently begs his younger brother not to start shit. He's in too much pain to scold him and you’re too kind.

“I can use the force to help,” you whisper. You’re using your calm diplomat voice that he’s come to associate with talking to Crosshair.

“How?” The sniper whispers fiercely. The response is way too aggressive to someone offering assistance. Hunter would roll his eyes if capable.

“It’s called a sleep suggestion.”

“Do it,” Hunter grumbles. His brother looks at him in shock. Without opening his eyes the sergeant tells him, “not like it can get worse.”

Honestly Hunter doesn’t know if your force stuff is going to work but he does know you’re stubborn. You’re not going to leave him alone without at least trying to help. You seem pretty relaxed when you use the force so maybe it won’t be too bad.

You step closer, shoulders brushing Crosshair’s as you perch on the side of his bunk. “Can I touch you for a moment?”

He appreciates you asking. He knows how strong your powers are. You could easily do whatever you want without his consent. The thought makes him shiver but he pushes it down, inhales your familiar scent, and hum’s a weak “yes sir.” He trusts you.

Nimble fingers remove his bandana, taking pressure off of his pounding temples. Your palm lightly rests on the top of his hair. You’re not initiating any skin to skin contact yet much to his relief. Suddenly the overwhelming pain begins to fade.

He lets out a soft sigh, young features smoothing out a bit. Your thumb runs along his sweaty hairline and he finds himself enjoying the touch. You’re so much stronger than the Kaminoans, yet so much gentler.

A numbing sensation spreads through his body like oozing syrup. His surroundings are muted, limbs heavy, and mind comfortably fuzzy. It’s almost like being sedated but there’s no fear he usually associates with medical practices. It feels more like curling up with his brothers after a long day of training.

“It’s alright, sarge. You’re safe. You can rest now,” you whisper. He believes you. His eyelids become heavier as you gently scratch his scalp. Kriff, why does that feel so nice? “Good job, Hunter. You’re doing so well. When you wake up the pain will be gone.”

The gentle praise is what does him in. His tense body sags into the mattress as his breathing evens out.

When Hunter wakes up, it’s slow and thick. He knows he’s been resting for a while. He enjoys the warm and content feeling of his bunk for a few moments before slowly pulling back his blanket.

He hears Tech’s normally level voice tight with anger. And Wrecker laughing. Not a good combination. He ambles into the common area where you and Tech are clicking away on two controllers, a racing simulation projected onto the wall.

“These physics are highly inaccurate!” His brother complains.

“You’re only saying that cause you’re losing,” you tease.

Crosshair, who’s pretending to be bored, smirks at your comment. Great. Another instigator. A part of him fears the day you grow close to Crosshair.

“Hey, Hunter. Feeling better?” You ask, eyes not leaving the game. Tech’s head snaps to his older brother, not realizing he entered the room. He looks back just in time to see his racer get hit by a shell. “E chu ta!”

Hunter ignores the unfamiliar curse, more focused on recalling the moments after you entered his quarters. Everything’s a bit fuzzy. “Better,” he admits, sending a suspicious look to your AZI unit. “Did you drug me?”

“No, just the force. You consented to a sleep suggestion.” You reassure him with an amused smile. “I meditate twice a day, you’re welcome to join me. It helps me when I’m overwhelmed.”

“What time?” He asks without hesitation.

The next morning Hunter nervously approaches your cabin. Your usually shut door is cracked open, inviting him inside. What if you were just being nice when you offered? He doesn’t want to bother you. He’s pretty sure meditation is really important to jedi.

“Hello Hunter,” your voice greets from inside. Osik. There’s no going back now. He enters the room, instantly hit with a rich but not overwhelming floral scent. He’s greeted by you doing gentle stretches in an baggy tunic and leggings. He tries to subtly observe your cabin.

It’s not much bigger than his shared room with Crosshair although you do have a personal refresher. A single bed with a plush bantha. A desk with a datapad and a few plants. A trunk with a burning cup on top (must be a nat-born thing.) Your med droid sits in the corner with the power droid you scavenged with Wrecker. “Can you believe someone threw him out?” You had asked. You were offended when Hunter said “yes.”

You clamber onto the bed and pat the spot in front of you expectedly. This feels much more intimate than your first meeting. Hunter gingerly sits across from you, copying the way your legs are crossed.

“Does the scent bother you?”

Hunter is caught off guard. Only his batchmates have ever cared about his comfort and even they forget sometimes. “No s- blossom,” he corrects, recalling the nickname Wrecker has given you. You smile kindly.

“Good. Certain scents are scientifically proven to reduce stress.”

That sounds familiar for some reason. “Tech was telling me about that. Aromatherapy, right?”

“Yeah, I sent him a few articles about it.”

Hunter’s heart squeezes with affection. Not many people appreciate Tech’s desire to learn but you’ve had no problem bonding with him. You bring your hands together, “now, let’s begin. Shall we?”

He nods as you began a calm explanation. “We're going to start with a classic mindful meditation, the goal is to be present and control your reactions.”

“Close your eyes and focus on your breaths. You can use your senses to ground you. Like visualizing a happy place, holding a comforting object, smelling a calming scent, or feeling your heartbeat. If your thoughts wander don’t get upset, gently bring them back to breathing. Let your feelings pass without judgment. Your emotions are natural but you can’t let them control you.”

Hunter is reassured by your words. This isn’t like a test back on Kamino where he’ll be punished for any mistakes. There is no failure. He loses himself in the repetitive counting, becoming almost tired as he goes on

Suddenly the bed under him shifts, pulling his mind back to his surroundings. His eyes, feeling oddly heavy, blink open to find you… floating? Your eyes shut, face peaceful, a plush bantha in your lap, your fingers twisted in it’s soft brown fur.

You appear asleep in mid air and it’s oddly cute if it wasn't so weird. What if you fall and hurt yourself though? He should probably stay to make sure nothing startles you. Hunter takes a deep breath, inhaling your sweet scent mixed with the potted plants and burning wax, and begins counting his breaths again. He might have to join all your meditations from now on.

#clone wars #star wars #the bad batch #tbb #bad batch #tbb hunter x reader #tbb hunter #hunter the bad batch #sergeant hunter #sergeant hunter x reader #clone force 99

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mariacallous · 10 days

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As an ex-Soviet myself, I am baffled by the renewed global fascination with autocracy. According to Freedom House, 8 out of 10 people now live in a partly free or not free country. In the United States, surveys show that a substantial number of people would support authoritarian rule and do not consider the decline of democratic institutions a mortal threat. In China, Russia, and elsewhere, the winds of change seem to be blowing in the wrong direction.

Given this shift, HBO’s miniseries The Regime, whose finale aired on April 7, could not have been timelier. With Emmy Award-winning Kate Winslet and Succession’s Will Tracy at the helm, along with all the trappings of prestige television, The Regime was poised to explore some of the 21st century’s heftiest political questions: the allure of demagogues, the slide into unfreedom and tribalism, and the mechanisms a society can employ to reverse this slide.

Instead, The Regime provides only vague winks to the tendencies of the world’s strongmen that fail to rise to the level of serious critique or analysis, deployed with a naivete that feels distinctly American.

Winslet stars as Elena Vernham, a middle-aged chancellor of an unnamed fictitious country in Central Europe who is obsessed with the black mold she believes is invading her palace. To fight it, she summons Herbert Zubak (Matthias Schoenaerts), a hunky army corporal from a province that grows sugar beets. Prior to his arrival at the palace, Herbert was thrust into the national limelight for his role in gunning down 12 protesters at one of the country’s cobalt mines, earning him a gruesome nickname: “The Butcher.”

Elena and Herbert quickly develop a Beauty and the Beast kind of attraction (postmodern, of course, with no clarity about who is the beast—capricious and delusional Elena or self-loathing, bullied-turned-bully Herbert). After a brief falling out, resolved by Herbert saving Elena from an assassin, the two begin to rule the palace through a Rasputin-style combination of hysterics and nativism.

For the next five episodes, we follow Herbert’s zigzagging ascent through Elena’s wobbling realm, from a walking humidity monitor to a trusted political advisor and lover. Herbert witnesses, engages in, or directs various antics that, according to the show’s description, depict a “modern authoritarian regime as it unravels.” Scenes include cabinet meetings that Elena conducts from an ice-filled tub and bizarre conversations with her dead father, preserved in a glass coffin in the palace’s basement. Herbert, a man of rural origins, caters to Elena’s paranoia by cleansing the palace’s supposedly poisonous air with the steam from boiled potatoes (a folk remedy popular in my Soviet childhood).

Of course, no leader can outrun geopolitics. The country’s rich cobalt reserves attract international interest, and after chasing out a deal that would have given the United States mining rights on the cheap, Elena cozies up to China, promising it a free trade deal and a cut of the mining profits. Together, Elena and Herbert then navigate their way through the illegal annexation of a sovereign neighbor, a half-baked flirtation with nationalization and land reform, and the sting of Western economic sanctions.

All this chaotic politicking unfolds against Elena’s droning on about love, which she constantly either bestows on or demands from her people. Ever the shrewd economist, Elena proclaims, “The American beast and its client states try to strangle us, but petty sanctions will always fail because our love cannot be sanctioned.” Having shipped her subservient, poetry-loving French husband, Nicky (Guillaume Gallienne), to Swiss exile, Elena, who has regained her sex drive, passionately makes up for lost time with Herbert—and fails to notice the unrest growing among her populace over the country’s economic downturn and crude handling of protests.

By the final episode—spoilers ahead—it seems that Elena’s ruling model is no match for revolution. She is chased out of the palace and must run for her life through a land it’s clear she knows nothing about, despite the “special connection” she often claims to have with its people. For once, someone in this world other than Herbert has managed to outmaneuver her delusions. But soon enough, Elena bends the knee to the very oligarchs she once vilified. A would-be coup is undone with the snap of a U.S.-backed finger.

“What was that all about?” Nicky asks his wife at the end of the show. He is offered no conclusive answer—and neither is the audience.

Tracy, who created the show, has compared The Regime to a dark fairy tale, which may explain Elena’s look—a cross between an aging Sleeping Beauty and Madonna’s Evita—and the glass coffin. One could also see it as a love story, in which two broken individuals find a semblance of happiness by tormenting each other in their own make-believe reality. It may even be a dark comedy, as HBO describes it, if one can have comedy without a single funny joke. (Her cabinet member’s quip, “His profits are fucked like a spring donkey,” is certainly rude, but rudeness isn’t necessarily funny.)

One thing the show isn’t is satire. For that to be true, it would actually have to satirize something. Jonathan Swift’s Gulliver’s Travels derided the rigid mores of 18th-century England. Armando Iannucci’s The Death of Stalin poked fun at the brutality and hypocrisy of Joseph Stalin’s flunkies in the postwar Soviet Union. Making Elena’s regime a pastiche of autocracies was a fatal choice because those regimes are products of their unique, often brutal environments. Because the show nods to a little bit of everything, it takes aim at nothing.

Instead of real people, The Regime offers us walking cliches: a delusional woman with hot flashes and daddy issues; cowering and corrupt ministers; greedy Americans pining for other nations’ resources; the dull, kerchiefed masses who look like props recycled from last century’s movie sets. It’s not that we can’t care for bad people. We did for the Roys in Succession because they were nuanced characters, at once tragic and funny, with clear agendas that drove the plot. But The Regime’s characters feel generic, simply dropped into the set, stirring no feelings from the viewer, sympathetic or otherwise. The only character with an identifiable interest is the U.S. senator, Judith Holt (Martha Plimpton), who just wants the country’s cobalt. The rest merely float through the episodes, as though searching for a good scene to act out but coming up blank.

This is a shame because the show has no lack of talent. Winslet does her best with the material she is given, but there isn’t much she can do with lines such as, “I like a bit of spice. Spice is nice,” in reference to Herbert’s “spicy” dreams. She has no real antagonists, no articulated desires, and no emotions. Viewers are left to blink at the screen, admiring her outfits and waiting for something substantive to happen.

Schoenaerts, who plays Herbert, is more plausible, if cliched: a tortured warrior prepared to kill—and die—for love. Andrea Riseborough, playing Agnes, the palace manager, is less lucky. Having shined as Stalin’s daughter in The Death of Stalin, here she is reduced to a brittle, peacoat-wearing loyalist who has an unexplained co-parenting arrangement with Elena and yields her maternal rights the moment Elena demands it. Her epileptic son doesn’t seem to mind, as long as he gets new toys. Hugh Grant as Edward Keplinger, the country’s imprisoned opposition leader, is charming, but his cameo feels like a checkmark on the celebrity cast list. With his carpeted cell, steady supply of sausages, and access to the prison’s keys, Grant’s performance lacks the gravitas that the suffering of real imprisoned political figures, including the late Russian opposition leader Alexei Navalny, deserves.

And then there is Mr. Laskin (Danny Webb), the head of Elena’s security service. In real dictatorships, the requirements of this job are gruesome and attract rather monstrous personalities—think Lavrentiy Beria of the Soviet Union or Heinrich Himmler of Nazi Germany, both of whom orchestrated horrendous mass murders. Yet in The Regime, Laskin speaks politely about his duty to his country and that he “believes in a principle, the legal transition of power.” Unlike in a real dictatorial regime, we see no blood on his hands. There’s a difference between a temporary suspension of disbelief, which viewers will happily grant, and constantly being asked to accept improbable things.

Herein lies The Regime’s fundamental problem: It fumbles what seems to be the primary point of the show—the portrayal of autocracy. The issue with autocrats is not that they’re narcissists who force others to listen to their off-key singing, as Elena does at seemingly every banquet and celebration she can, but that they are ready to sacrifice millions of people to their delusions. Their subjects, including their inner circle, live in constant fear because the autocrat’s government and law enforcement apparatuses are weaponized and can be turned against them at any moment.

But there is no fear in Elena’s kingdom. Her out-of-grace oligarch is not dispossessed and jailed but simply ordered to clean up chairs at a press conference. Her ministers plot for her downfall in a downstairs bar before mockingly denying her a seat on the rescue helicopter. The rebels take the palace in a span of an episode. (If only real dictators were toppled that easily!) The Regime makes Elena look stupid and pathetic. We do not flee from her in terror; we shrug her off.

Despite her European aesthetics, the portrayal of Elena as a ruler reflects an undeniably American attitude toward autocracy. Even after four years of a Donald Trump presidency, many Americans still don’t take his threats seriously, unable to believe that his cartoonish personality and ineptitude could translate into a real assault on their democratic rights and liberties. With the memory of World War II fading away, others may simply underestimate the difference between living in a free society and living under tyranny.

At some level, plenty of Americans may even hanker for a strongman because he offers simple solutions to complex problems, blind to the fact that—like Elena—he is animated not by public service but by his own vanity, enrichment, and survival and occasionally those of his cronies.

As a creative project, The Regime is free to be whatever it wants to be—a fairy tale, a dark comedy, a saga of human vices. But any serious work of art must be about something, some pressing aspect of human existence, and should be evaluated on those terms. What, then, is The Regime’s message? That love is an exchange of perversions? That the United States is a colonizer propping up authoritarian regimes because it wants their assets? That nothing ever changes and we should resign ourselves to endless inevitable iterations of the narcissist-in-chief?

Cynicism doesn’t win battles—or make for very good television. Perhaps HBO’s next meditation on authoritarianism will give us substance on the topic rather than winks.

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