Venezuela and the curse of black gold.


I’m no expert on geopolitics, but I’ve read up enough to know a coup when I see one, I’ve took part in one, Iraq. Only realising it was a coup when I returned, but that’s a story for another day.

Venezuela on the other hand is a carbon copy of what the US and its partners in crime (BP) did to Iran in 1953, overthrowing Mohammad Mosaddegh, a democratically elected head of state replacing him with somebody who will bend the knee to their masters, in this case The Shah of Iran under operation Ajax orchestrated by the CIA and MI6.

I wonder what the operation in Venezuela is named? Operation Domestos ? Operation Harpic? Anyway, I’ve seen a lot of folk on various social media outlets screaming for military intervention and humanitarian aid not realising the reason as to why Venezuelan people are actually suffering. I reply to these people by saying that the US imposed illegal sanctions and blockades on Venezuela, causing hyperinflation, driving food prices through the stratosphere which is designed to stir up unrest.

As soon as the government of Hugo Chavez kicked out the oil companies and nationalised its biggest natural resource in the 2000’s, things started to go sour. A US led coup attempt in 2002 was thwarted by the people and Chavez was reinstated two days later, that’s only the start. Fast-forward to the present day and things look a lot more precarious. The Americans are doubling down their efforts to undermine Maduro and stir up violence. Its straight out of “The guide to overthrowing countries for dummies” handbook. The only difference is now its done in plain sight with no recourse or credible opposition. Just look at Syria, Libya, and Iraq, countries flooded with so called moderate jihadis at the behest of the late John McCain and Co. The aforementioned was handing out cookies to so called protesters in Kiev, Ukraine during the height of another American foreign entanglement. You can see where I’m going with this.

Then comes the self declared president Juan Guaido, a convenient shoe in from the American empire to oust the socialist Nicolas Maduro. You see, the US government detests socialism that works, and don’t get me wrong, there are many forms that don’t and would never work.

To summarise, the outlook for Venezuela is pretty bleak because once the American wheels of propaganda and interventionalism start turning, it becomes a runaway train and nearly impossible to stop. The US empire is in decline and addicted to oil and has Venezuela in its crosshairs once again to give it its latest fix to hold on to its dwindling world dominance. I hope that Venezuela doesn’t turn into the next Syria, for everyone’s sake.


My PTSD back story Part 1.


I served 7 years in the British army, I was deployed to Kosovo in 1999 and to Iraq in 2005.

I started having problems upon return from Kosovo in the form of nightmares, disassociation and terrible anxiety. It felt like I was in a constant dream state which was terrifying because I didn’t know what was happening and didn’t tell anybody. I was 19 years old and this was only the beginning. The anxiety was crippling, what made it worse is that I had to conceal it from my fellow soldiers for fear of being ridiculed. After some months I learned to live with it and just soldier on, not realising the negative impact keeping it bottled up would have in later life.

I left the army in 2003 and seriously struggled to adjust to civilian life, it was probably the worst time of my life. I had planned to leave the army and get married a year later to my fiancée who was to leave the army the following year after I had set up a place to live and for her to have minimal issues when she left. But that never happened. We split up a few weeks after I left and was absolutely heartbroken. Things started to spiral, the depression, anxiety and then the alcoholism started. I was working for agencies, driving HGV wagons, hating what I was doing and using alcohol as a release at weekends, getting so drunk I didn’t know what I was doing, and suffering the next day. That carried on for over 2 years.

In March 2005 I’d had enough, I phoned the army records office in Glasgow and volunteered to be called up for active service as I was still on the reserve list. There were two conflicts occurring at that time, Iraq and Afghanistan. I wasn’t bothered which I was given and eventually they offered me Iraq. I’d felt out in the cold for the past 2 years on civvi Street and this was an opportunity felt I couldn’t miss.

After some refresher training at Chilwell in Nottingham I was deployed to Basrah Air Station in southern Iraq. My parents were mortified to say the least, especially my mother, as my brother nearly lost his life in Northern Ireland in the late 80’s, but when you want to do something so badly, you don’t really care about what other people think.

2005 was the bloodiest year for British soldiers in Iraq, every other day a snatch land rover would be blown up on the routes we used every day, killing and seriously wounding soldiers, my unit would run the IED gauntlet every day, driving in convoy to Kuwait and driving back escorting aircraft fuel tankers back to Basrah Air Station. Everyday was a lottery.

I returned to the UK after 6 months, debriefed, demobilised and happy to be alive. What I didn’t realise is that I had to start all over again, but this time I was older and wiser than I was in 2003. After the tour was finished, I said to myself, “Never again”, that was it for me militarily, not realising my personal war was only going to get worse.

Anxiety was background noise at that point, being left untreated it was getting louder week after week, month after month. Still struggling to find work, my problems were being compounded. The nightmares and intrusive thoughts were increasing in severity, the alcoholism was picking up pace and I was starting to spiral again. I was an angry man with no outlet and no perceived way of dealing with these issues.