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This might be a little tougher than Putin thought...

"In the mind of Putin, a Commander, General Sergei Surovikin has as much autonomy as the goldfish in its bowl" "It's a goldfish in a jar and we put General Boucher of Syria on it and he turns around in his jar pretending he's ordering"

 
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"Many low-altitude missiles and drones are difficult to spot on radar, but now people in different regions of the country can report these targets in advance using the app as they spot them.
Read also:
Britain to donate air defense missiles to Ukraine – Wallace
To use ePPO, you need to undergo authorization through the Diya electronic state service – this is necessary in order to filter out false reports and prevent malicious wasting of the time of Ukrainian air defense forces.

So far, the app is only available on the Android platform, but an iOS version is also planned for launch soon."

https://english.nv.ua/nation/mobile...-missiles-to-air-defense-forces-50276536.html
I’m waiting to read about an app that accesses the users mic and listens for the distinctive sound of the Iranian prop driven drones:

acoustic_locator_11.jpg
 
After watching a documentary last evening on PBS regarding the atrocities in Bucha and neighboring towns, I want to see every Russian orc tortured before they're killed.

The brutality against civilians is maddening.
 
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After watching a documentary last evening on PBS regarding the atrocities in Bucha and neighboring towns, I want to see every Russian orc tortured before they're killed.

The brutality against civilians is maddening.
I don't even understand what makes people do stuff like that.

Hell, I feel terrible putting an injured bird out of its misery after hitting my window. How the f---k can anyone actually torture a fellow human being? My brain just refuses to work that way.
 
Sad story that illustrates how even Russia's venerable arts, music and literature legacy is being trashed by Putin:

The Defection of Mikhail Voskresensky​

Why a beloved Russian pianist is living in the Bronx with only a Yamaha electric keyboard
By Franklin Foer

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There was no place Mikhail Voskresensky loved more than the Moscow Conservatory. He graduated from the school in 1958. For decades, he was the venerable chair of the piano department, specializing in the masters of 19th-century romanticism. His granddaughter served as his assistant, teaching alongside him. His young wife, a talented pianist from Vietnam, had studied there. In February, two days before Russian troops began flowing across the Ukrainian border, Voskresensky played a concert for hundreds in the Conservatory’s Grand Hall, an exquisite artifact of the imperial age, with soaring walls lined by portraits of the nation’s great composers.

Voskresensky wasn’t ethnically Ukrainian. But, in a story typical of the imposed multiculturalism of Soviet times, he was born in what is now Ukraine, in the city of Berdyansk, on the banks of the Azov Sea. More to the point, his mother was buried there. Whatever the propagandists proclaimed, he couldn’t think of Ukraine as enemy territory. Well before the discovery of mass graves in Bucha and Irpin, he considered the war not just a strategic blunder, but an expression of barbaric cruelty.

But he was an outlier. Even in the hallways of the relatively cosmopolitan conservatory, he overheard jingoistic talk. The invasion of Ukraine was commonly described as a defense of Russian territory. “What part of Russian territory was attacked?” he would retort.

One day, a fellow pianist approached him, and the conversation turned to Ukraine. No profound difference of opinion separated them. The pianist agreed that war was folly. But he added, “Since we started it, we have no choice but to win it.”

By the standards of Russian political discourse, this was hardly provocative. Still, it triggered Voskresensky. As he left the conversation, he thought to himself: How can I live with intelligent people who think like this? The idea of fleeing into exile had been stirring in his head for weeks. Now it was becoming more like a conviction.

He couldn’t shake the feeling of his own complicity. “I’m guilty if I live in this society,” he told me, many months later. “I had this feeling that was ethically hard to live with.” Although he was 87 years old, he had a 4-year-old son, and he wanted his youngest child “to grow up free of this feeling.” His wife, who shared his distaste for Moscow’s wartime oppressiveness, agreed.

To put it in the parlance of another time: Voskresensky—a beloved figure who had won many of his nation’s highest honors, including the People’s Artist of Russia—was ready to defect.

The last time Voskresensky engaged in a political act was in 1963. He was a charismatic prodigy, on the cusp of stardom. He had played Dmitri Shostakovich’s Second Piano Concerto at the Prague Spring International Music Festival, its first performance outside the Soviet Union, and in the presence of the great composer himself, who overcame his fear of flying to attend. He had medaled at the Van Cliburn International Piano Competition in Texas.

The Soviet cultural apparatus wanted to show him off to the world. Arrangements were made for a tour of the United States. But before plans were finalized, Voskresensky received a call from a KGB agent who asked him to carry letters to American contacts on the organization’s behalf.

That night, Voskresensky couldn’t sleep. He dreaded the assignment and grasped for a way to avoid it. The next day he called the agent and told him, “I’m a man of art. People of art are extremely emotional and easily agitated. I’m afraid if I accept your offer, I’ll inadvertently make a mistake that will reflect poorly on our state.” Immediately, the line went dead—and so did his international career. The government canceled his tour. It took 13 years for the state to forgive his reticence and permit him a tour of the West.

Being a classical pianist in Moscow in the Soviet era came with cultural cachet, but also limitations. It wasn’t just that Voskresensky couldn’t perform abroad. He would embark on epic projects—such as playing every Chopin piano piece in chronological order—but because the Soviets didn’t have a vibrant recording industry, his greatest performances disappeared as soon as they ended.

Voskresensky never acquired the global reputation he deserved—and many decades later, this fact may have complicated his attempt to defect. When he sent emails to colleagues across the West asking for help leaving, none offered assistance. Many of the West’s cultural institutions hesitated to host Russian performers, no matter their politics. He wanted to take a stand against a horrible war, but he was given the cold shoulder.
If your kid needs piano lessons...he's available
 
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After watching a documentary last evening on PBS regarding the atrocities in Bucha and neighboring towns, I want to see every Russian orc tortured before they're killed.

The brutality against civilians is maddening.

 
I know-we've heard these stories before. FWIW

"In Moscow, a large number of military personnel came to the Federation Council building. People in military uniform also appear in the recording. Traffic in neighboring streets is blocked."

 
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Ukraine has asked refugees who fled the country in the wake of Russia’s invasion not to return home this winter, after Russian drone and missile strikes threatened to overwhelm the country’s fragile power grid.

Ukraine’s deputy prime minister, Iryna Vereshchuk, advised Ukrainians in a video message on Tuesday “not to come back just yet.”

“We need to survive this winter. (If people come back) the electrical grid might fail,” she said.


 
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