Watertown, NY By Hans Wilder
Alright, buckle up, folks, because we’re about to take a wild ride through the circus of American foreign policy—so get ready for The Wilder Treatment. You know, that grand old tradition where the USA picks up a shiny new toy, plays with it ‘til it breaks, then tosses it in the dumpster like last week’s takeout. And right now, the toy du jour is Volodymyr Zelensky, Ukraine’s very own action figure—complete with a green T-shirt and a begging bowl. But the winds are shifting, and the new USA, the “America First” crew under Trump 2.0, is about to show him the door faster than you can say “regime change.” Let’s peel back the curtain on this farce and talk world peace—real peace, not the kind that comes with a billion-dollar price tag and a side of drones.
See, the old USA—that bloated, imperial gasbag—was all about strutting around the globe, handing out cash and weapons like a drunk uncle at a wedding, only to turn around and bury the bride when she asked for too much. Take Manuel Noriega, Panama’s big man in the ‘80s. The CIA had him on speed dial, funneling him cash to fight commies and run drugs—until he got too cozy with the wrong crowd. Boom, 1989, Operation Just Cause, and suddenly Noriega’s sipping piña coladas in a Florida jail cell, wondering where his Christmas bonus went. Used, chewed up, spat out—classic USA playbook.
Then there’s Muammar Gaddafi—Libya’s flamboyant dictator with the funky robes and the oil. Back in the day, he was a Cold War pawn, a thorn in the West’s side, but by the 2000s, he’d kissed the ring, ditched his nukes, and got a pat on the head from Washington. “Good boy, Muammar,” they said—until 2011 rolled around, and Hillary Clinton’s cackle echoed over Benghazi. Next thing you know, he’s dragged through the streets, bayoneted by rebels with NATO bombs raining down like confetti. All ‘cause he didn’t fit the script anymore. Peace? Nah, that’s just the sound of the cash register dinging.
Osama bin Laden? Oh, this one’s a gem. Back in the ‘80s, he was Uncle Sam’s golden boy in Afghanistan, a mujahideen rockstar fighting the Soviets with American Stingers and a wink from Reagan. “Freedom fighter,” they called him—until the towers fell, and suddenly he’s Public Enemy No. 1. Took a decade, but they got him in 2011, dumped his body in the ocean, and patted themselves on the back. From ally to al-Qaeda bogeyman, all in one smooth flip of the script. Used up, tossed out, next caller.
And Saddam Hussein—don’t get me started. Iraq’s strongman was Washington’s BFF in the ‘80s, gassing Iranians with a nod and a handshake from Rumsfeld himself. Chemical weapons? No problem, as long as they’re aimed at Tehran. But then he got greedy, invaded Kuwait, and bam—1991 Gulf War, 2003 invasion, and a noose in 2006. “WMDs,” they screamed, holding up a vial of nothing at the UN. Billions spent, a country trashed, and Saddam’s just another notch on the belt. America’s loyalty lasts ‘til the oil stops flowing or the photo ops dry up—whichever comes first.
Now, enter Zelensky, stage left, with his Hollywood grin and his sob story. Since 2022, he’s been the darling of the old USA, raking in over $100 billion in aid—military gear, humanitarian bucks, you name it—while posing for Vogue and Zooming with Congress. The guy’s a pro, tugging heartstrings like a street busker, all while Russia grinds through his backyard. But here’s the kicker: the new USA, the Trump-led “America First” squad, ain’t buying it anymore. Trump’s been crystal clear—he’s done pouring cash into endless wars. He’s said it loud: “I want everyone to stop dying.” No more blank checks for Kyiv, no more playing sugar daddy to NATO’s whining cousins. Zelensky’s about to learn what Noriega, Gaddafi, bin Laden, and Saddam all found out the hard way: when the USA’s done with you, you’re yesterday’s news.
This isn’t about isolationism—it’s about waking up from the fever dream of global cop duty. The old USA loved flexing, dropping bombs, and propping up puppets ‘til they outlived their shelf life. The new USA? It’s saying, “Hey, Europe, you want Ukraine? You pay for it.” Trump’s already frozen foreign aid for a 90-day review—January 2025, bam, the spigot’s off. Humanitarian stuff’s on life support, and military aid’s next on the chopping block unless it’s got a “Made in America” sticker and a profit margin. Zelensky’s scrambling, begging Europe to fill the gap, but the EU’s got the spine of a jellyfish without Uncle Sam’s wallet. Good luck, Volodymyr—you’re about to join the discard pile.
World peace? It’s not some hippie-dippie fantasy—it’s what happens when you stop feeding the war machine. Trump’s crew wants deals, not death tolls. He’s already chatting up Putin, sidelining Zelensky, and pushing for a ceasefire that doesn’t bankrupt us. No more trillion-dollar quagmires in places we can’t spell. Noriega, Gaddafi, bin Laden, Saddam—they were pawns in a game that never ended wars, just started new ones. Zelensky’s the latest pawn, but the game’s changing. America First means peace through strength, not peace through handouts. So long, Zelensky—hope you kept the receipts. The rest of us? We might finally get a breather from the endless bullshit of empire.
