Now that some kind of war on the eastern front seems imminent – according to all the major news outlets half of Russia’s army is parked on Ukraine’s borders – I knew that my friend Camp had some views on this situation. It’s all so unreal, sitting here at our seaside pub in peaceful Gibsons; an oasis of tranquility in a sea of madness it seems. So far away from the Ukraine, Ottawa and Washington and yet so close whenever I turn on the TV or pick up the newspaper. Like it or not, we are part of it all, little tribal ants in a big, complicated colony, revolving around a sun, on the edge of a minor galaxy.
‘It’s pretty clear to me,’ Camp said. ‘This is exactly where Putin wants to be.’
‘How do you see that?’ I asked.
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