FRIDAY FURY / NO CONCESSIONS, NO CEASEFIRE: HOW PUTIN OUTPLAYED TRUMP IN ANCHORAGE

RUSSIAN BEAR STRIKES OUT BUMBLING ORANGUTAN, AGAIN! 

 GUEST BLOG / By Max Seddon, Anastasia Stognei for the Financial Times, UK--After returning from Alaska last Saturday, Vladimir Putin told top officials assembled in the Kremlin that his summit with Donald Trump had “brought us closer to the necessary solutions”. Those solutions, Putin stressed, involve Ukraine’s capitulation to the maximalist demands that prompted his 2022 invasion. 

“Settling these root causes [for the war] must be the foundation for a settlement,” he said. The extraordinary meeting at Anchorage’s Elmendorf Air Force base has ended Putin’s pariah status and brought Washington’s stance on the war closer to Moscow’s. 

 And Putin did not need to budge an inch. 

 “Before the summit Trump was giving Putin ultimatums and threatening consequences. In the end there were no consequences for Putin not agreeing to a ceasefire,” said Ilya Matveyev, an exiled Russian political scientist at the independent Public Sociology Laboratory. “Putin got what he wanted — to play for time and press his military advantage over Ukraine.” 

 Putin arrived on US soil armed with flattery. He repeated Trump’s frequent claim that Russia would not have invaded if he, not Joe Biden, had been in power. Trump nodded. 

 Trump later told Fox News host Sean Hannity that Putin had assured him that he was cheated out of the 2020 election. The Russian praised him for making the US “hot as a pistol”. 

 It was another display of Putin’s ability to enthral Trump — as he did during their 2018 Helsinki summit when the US president sided with him over US intelligence on Moscow’s meddling in the 2016 presidential election. 

 Trump railed against the “Russia hoax”, as he calls it, to Hannity. Now, just weeks after Trump threatened dire consequences if Russia did not agree to a ceasefire in Ukraine, Putin appears to have swung the US president back into his camp. 

 “Putin felt a necessity to do something dramatic to flip that script without actually giving anything away, and he seems to have managed to do that,” said Samuel Greene, a professor of Russian politics at King’s College London. “The only gift Putin brought to Anchorage was a lot of praise.” 

 Trump rolled out a red carpet for Putin, laughed with him in the presidential limousine, and posed for pictures as US military aircraft flew overhead. The lavish welcome sparked a backlash in Washington — but celebration in Moscow. 

Russian ideologue Alexander Dugin spelt out the sense of victory. “Trump has restored [Putin’s] status as a world leader who can be dealt with,” he wrote on Telegram. “We won’t stop fighting the war because of this, of course, but it is a starting point.” 

Analysts say Putin successfully reframed negotiations so that a ceasefire is now the end goal rather than the starting point. Trump has endorsed Putin’s call for a comprehensive end to the war, posting on his Truth Social platform on Saturday that “the best way” was “to go directly to a Peace Agreement . . . and not a mere Ceasefire Agreement, which often times do not hold up”. 

 There is little sense for Putin to agree to a ceasefire as long as his forces retain the upper hand on the battlefield, said Alexander Gabuev, director of the Carnegie Russia Eurasia Center in Berlin. “The war is his main leverage,” he added. “If the war were going well for Ukraine, nobody would want a ceasefire. 

So the European and Ukrainian demand for a ceasefire looked pathetic and unrealistic.” The Russian leader also used the summit to spell out demands that Kyiv will find difficult to accept. Putin told Trump he would freeze the conflict along much of the frontline if his demands were met and if Ukraine withdrew from the Donbas, the vast eastern region Russia has tried to take over since 2014. 

He has also long demanded that Ukraine renounce its ambition to join Nato. 

 Putin’s demands would all but end Ukraine’s statehood in its current form and overturn the post-cold war security architecture in Europe while ceding key strategic positions to Russia. “Until Russia gets clear guarantees about that, you can’t talk about ending the war, because this was the reason for starting it,” said Vasily Kashin at Moscow’s Higher School of Economics. “That’s why Russia can’t agree to a ceasefire along the frontline, because we know they’ll stop taking us seriously the moment that happens.”

 The US told Ukraine and its European allies that Putin’s offer was a compromise. In reality, he has hardened his position from as recently as April, when he told Trump’s special envoy Steve Witkoff he would freeze the entire frontline in exchange for settling the “root causes”. 

 Michael McFaul, a former US ambassador to Russia, said Trump had moved closer to Putin’s position. “Maybe giving all of Donbas is just a maximalist demand at the beginning of negotiations. But maybe not. Maybe it’s a poison pill that guarantees the war will drag on for a long time,” McFaul said. 

Putin did not get everything he wanted from the summit. He wanted to restore bilateral relations and both sides had talked up potential commercial agreements. But top Russian economic officials Kirill Dmitriev and Anton Siluanov, who flew with Putin to Alaska, did not join the presidents’ meeting. The US and Russia also remain divided on next steps. 

Trump has put the onus on Ukraine’s President Volodymyr Zelenskyy to negotiate a deal with Putin at a future summit. But the Kremlin, which has consistently rejected such calls, said this was not raised in Alaska. 

 Unresolved is how Ukraine’s western allies would guarantee its security if Kyiv were barred from joining Nato. “The issue from the Ukrainian position is not where the line is, but what guarantees their security after the ceasefire — who is going to start shooting back at the Russians if the Russians start fighting again,” Greene said. Russia might accept an equivalent to Nato’s Article 5 mutual defence clause, Kashin said, allowing western countries to come to Ukraine’s aid if attacked but not deploy troops or weaponry there beforehand. 

But that may be further than Trump is willing to go — and not enough for Ukraine. “Trump’s view of security guarantees has been: look, I have this relationship with Putin, as long as I’m in office, he won’t invade. He may believe that, but the Ukrainians and the Europeans don’t see it as sufficient,” Greene said. 

 Kyiv reels as Trump embraces Putin’s terms. Until these matters are resolved, the conflict rolls on, with Anchorage another tactical victory for Putin as he pursues his war aims. 

“The objectives of the ‘special military operation’ will be achieved either by military or diplomatic means,” Russian senator Andrey Klishas wrote on his Telegram channel. “There will be no ‘unconditional ceasefire’, even as the front collapses and Russian troops liberate more and more territory. The agenda is a new architecture of European and international security — and everyone has to accept it.” 

 SUMMIT TALLY: 

 Putin 2 (Helsinki, Anchorage) Trump 0. 

MEDIA MONDAY / YEP, TRUMP IS STILL THE MOST RACIST PRESIDENT OF THE LAST 100 YEARS

THE NEW REPUBLIC'S MICHAEL TOMASKY IS THIS CENTURY'S THOMAS PAINE. 

HERE'S HIS LATEST ESSAY FROM HIS WEEKLY COLUMN: FIGHTING WORDS 

Item one: His racism defines nearly everything he does. And it is making the United States of America a cruel, sick, mean place. You may not know the name Lindsey Halligan. She’s not a scholar. Not a Ph.D. She hasn’t written any books on history. She has, however, worked as an insurance claims lawyer. Her most celebrated achievement, apparently, was defeating a 2019 claim seeking $500,000 in damages from her client over a damaged roof. How she managed to join Trump’s defense team remains unclear, but she was called to Mar-a-Lago the day the FBI came in with its warrant to collect those classified documents. Once on the team, she did what they all do, namely, grovel—she made an appearance on Steve Bannon’s podcast where she vowed to sue CNN for claiming that Trump was lying about the 2020 election results. Trump sought $475 million in damages in that case, but in July 2023, a federal judge dismissed it. 

Today, Halligan holds something few others in government probably do: a very fancy title that runs to a full 19 words (Assistant to the President for Domestic Policy and the Special Assistant to the President and Senior Associate Staff Secretary). She is overseeing the … what’s the right word here? There are so many to choose from … “reimagining” of the Smithsonian Institution. That’s right. An insurance claims lawyer is now in charge of making sure that the Smithsonian’s 21 museums, 21 libraries, 14 research centers, one zoo, and 157 million items and artifacts are brought into line with the wishes of the Mad King. 

 I see, looking back over them, that the tone of the above two paragraphs is a bit jocular. But this is no laughing matter. Forget Halligan. Maybe she’s smarter than I think, maybe she’s not. Maybe she’s a hardcore racist, maybe she’s not. But she’s not the point. The point here is Trump. He is not smarter than I think. I suspect he’s never read a history book in his life, and chances are pretty decent he’s never been to a museum, except to galas Ivana dragged him to back when. 

And about his hardcore racism, there is utterly no question. But we don’t talk about it enough. Trump long ago established to the satisfaction of everyone outside of MAGA world that he’s a racist to the bone. He and his father wouldn’t rent to Black people. He said those sick things about the defendants in the Central Park jogger case (they weren’t guilty). He said, “Laziness is a trait in Blacks.” He said some white supremacists in Charlottesville were “very fine people.” 

I could go on and on. Being long-established, Trump’s racism is not “news.” Regular readers of mine will know this is one of my longtime complaints about the nature and structure of the media. There are lots of things that aren’t “news,” per se, but are true, important, and defining of our reality. Trump’s racism is one of those things. 

It hovers over everything. It defines nearly everything he does. And it is making the United States of America a cruel, sick, mean place. 

 His racism is what’s propelling this edict over the Smithsonian. “The Smithsonian is OUT OF CONTROL, where everything discussed is how horrible our Country is, how bad Slavery was,” he whined Tuesday on Truth Social. When he talks this way, he’s sending a much broader message that is widely understood, by both his political foes and (especially) his supporters. Each group knows it’s part of a broader attack that is designed to keep certain Americans “in their place.” 

It’s just that the latter group approves. His racism is what’s driving the presence of these National Guard troops in Washington, D.C. His motorcade, traveling from the White House to his Virginia golf club, passes a small greensward along what’s called the E Street Expressway where there are (or were) a few tents, and that’s probably how he got his entire impression of D.C. crime, along with the background knowledge that D.C. is a heavily Black city (Black residents are no longer a majority, but still a plurality). 

The troops aren’t even fighting actual crime. They’re mostly around the National Mall, where it’s as safe as Mayberry in the 1960s. The troops are just a symbol for white MAGA world that he’s cracking some Black heads. His racism is behind this sick redistricting madness in Texas. 

Nonwhite people make up 60 percent of the state’s population. By the time the Texas legislature is finished, the Texas congressional delegation will likely be more than 70 percent white and Republican. 

In Missouri, the redistricting under consideration would slice a Black Democratic district in Kansas City into maybe three different pieces. Republicans have done this sort of thing long before Trump, but under Trump, of course, it’s being taken to extremes because Republicans now know that anti-Black extremism on such matters is the only thing that gets the boss’s attention. 

 His racism is behind his talk about mail-in ballots and early voting and all his phony allegations about fraudulent voting. Everybody knows very well what, and whom, he’s talking about when he talks about such things. He means Black and, to a slightly lesser extent, Latino people. 

 His racism is the fundamental reason for these mass detentions. Would Trump, and the right wing in general, be this worked up about illegal border crossings if it was mostly white people doing it? Of course they wouldn’t. There would be no rhetoric about immigrants “poisoning the blood” of the nation. 

 Finally—although surely there’s more—it’s racism that animates a lot of his rhetorical attacks on individual Americans. It’s no accident that his recent targets prominently include Oprah Winfrey, Gayle King (her close friend), Beyoncé, Al Sharpton, Letitia James, and Charlamagne tha God. He goes after lots of people of all races, but Black people are disproportionately targeted, and it’s not an accident. 

 I have no idea where Lindsey Halligan fits in here. She’s spent most of her adult life thinking about hurricanes. She’s interchangeable with any other Mar-a-Lago sycophant who happened to be in the right place at the right time. But the fact that Trump put someone in charge of remaking the Smithsonian who’s totally unqualified is what’s important here because it tells us that the person is there solely to follow his orders. 

Trump’s orders will be based on his worldview. And his worldview is the most blatantly and openly racist worldview that’s been held by an American president since Woodrow Wilson. We need to remember this, even, or especially, when the media forgets. 

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Sidebar by PillartoPost.org:

WOODROW WILSON'S STAIN

President Wilson’s Troubling Racial Legacy 

When Woodrow Wilson entered the White House in 1913, many African American leaders hoped the scholarly former governor of New Jersey might bring a spirit of fairness to Washington. 

Instead, Wilson’s presidency became a grim turning point in federal race relations, and his legacy in this area remains deeply controversial. One of the most damaging actions of his administration was the segregation of federal offices. Under Wilson, long-integrated departments such as the Treasury and Post Office were divided by race, with separate bathrooms, cafeterias, and work areas. 

Many Black civil servants were demoted or dismissed, reversing decades of progress. What Wilson’s defenders framed as “orderly management” amounted to a deliberate entrenchment of white supremacy in the nation’s capital. Wilson’s own words and writings left little doubt about his views. Even before his presidency, he described Reconstruction governments as corrupt and portrayed African Americans as unfit for full citizenship. 

These attitudes were amplified in 1915, when he hosted a White House screening of D.W. Griffith’s The Birth of a Nation. The film depicted the Ku Klux Klan as heroic saviors and Black men as dangerous caricatures. Though scholars debate whether Wilson actually said it was “like writing history with lightning,” his decision to dignify the film with a presidential screening gave it enormous legitimacy and fueled the rebirth of the Klan. The disillusionment was swift. 

Leaders such as W.E.B. Du Bois, who had cautiously supported Wilson’s election, turned into some of his fiercest critics. Wilson’s racial policies became a betrayal not only of Black Americans but also of the broader promise of democracy he so famously championed abroad. Today, 

Wilson’s record forces a hard reckoning. He remains remembered for progressive reforms and his vision of international cooperation, but his sanctioning of segregation and tacit endorsement of racist ideology ensured lasting harm. In some circles, that history has made him less a reformer than a regressor—proof that even a president hailed as a visionary could also be blinded by the prejudices of his time.

SUNDAY REVIEW / HYPOCRISY: THE LAST BIPARTISAN TRADITION.

   

"Spieglein, Spieglein an der Wand, 

   Wer ist die Schonste im ganzen Land?" 

--Brothers Grimm, "Grimms' Fairy Tales," 1812 

Original Grimm illustration by Otto Kubel

GUEST BLOG / By Albie Frank, PillartoPost.org Essayist--It’s easy to spot hypocrisy in others—it flares like a neon sign in the dark. The politician caught bending the truth. The neighbor railing against gossip while spinning their own tales. The celebrity preaching moderation before hopping a private jet. We catch it, shake our heads, and feel righteous. 

But it’s harder—sometimes almost impossible—to catch ourselves in the act. Part of the reason is that our own hypocrisies rarely feel like hypocrisies. They feel like exceptions. The rules we believe in apply… except here, except now, except in this one little corner of our lives. We convince ourselves the gap between what we say and what we do is a special case, a justified lapse, a harmless contradiction. 

Consider the environmentalist who never misses a climate march but drives a gas-guzzling classic car on weekends because “it’s only once in a while.” The hard-nosed fiscal conservative who buys overpriced gadgets on impulse. The health-conscious eater who “cheats” on vacations. Hypocrisy doesn’t always look like villainy—it often wears the comfortable sweater of self-forgiveness. 

And in our current climate, it’s impossible to ignore the most volatile example of all—politics. Political hypocrisy might be the most radioactive kind, the one that turns holiday dinners into hostage negotiations and old friendships into cold wars. We’ve all seen it: people who demand integrity in “the other side” but treat the scandals, lies, and incompetence of their own party as minor blemishes—or, worse, justified tactics. It’s easier to believe that your team is flawed but noble while theirs is corrupt to the bone. 

 Admitting your political party is full of, well, “&((&^,” feels like treason not just to a political cause, but to your own identity. We choose silence over confrontation, ghosting over compromise, because politics today isn’t about issues so much as tribes. To concede your side’s hypocrisy is to risk banishment from the campfire, and no one likes being left alone in the dark. So we swallow our doubts, double down on the talking points, and avoid the uncomfortable truth that hypocrisy is a bipartisan pastime. We’d rather lose a friend or dodge a family reunion than look across the table and say, “Yeah, my side’s a mess, too.” 

And perhaps that’s the heart of it: hypocrisy, at its most common level, isn’t malicious. It’s human. We are all layered, conflicted, and pulled by competing desires. We want to be better, but we also want to be comfortable, admired, indulged, or safe. We live in a constant negotiation between our ideals and our appetites. 

Maybe the question isn’t whether we’re all hypocrites about something—we almost certainly are—but whether we’re willing to admit it. Admitting it is the only way to keep hypocrisy from curdling into something darker: cynicism. Once we acknowledge our own contradictions, we can treat others’ with a little more humility and a little less self-righteous glee. 

In the end, hypocrisy is less about being a fraud and more about being a work in progress. The trouble is, most of us prefer to be seen only after the work is done. 

And if that’s true, then maybe hypocrisy isn’t the flaw we should fear most. Maybe it’s the mirror we keep covered—because deep down, we know exactly who’s looking back.

COFFEE BEANS & BEINGS / CAFE FOR ALL SEASONS

 

If you're the kind of traveler who believes a good cup of coffee should come with ambiance and a whisper of magic, Bonjour Café in Chișinău, Moldova is a must. Amid an urban forest on a pedestrian boulevard, this pint-sized outdoor kiosk might just be the coziest spot in town—no matter what season it is. 

At first glance, Bonjour Café looks like the set of a charming European film. The café is essentially a compact wooden kiosk with pastel shutters, surrounded by rows of folding chairs and flower-box tables. But what makes this place extraordinary isn’t its size—it’s its personality. 

Autumn nights at Bonjour come alive under strings of fairy lights, the kind that make your coffee taste a little warmer. You’ll see couples leaning in close, maybe over a croissant or mulled wine, while light jazz hums from a hidden speaker. 

Come winter, Bonjour transforms into a snow globe scene. Blankets of snow cover the wooden chairs, yet the café remains open, still glowing golden from within. Patrons line up under umbrellas and string lights, clutching hot drinks that steam against the cold. A life-sized teddy bear wrapped in a red scarf sometimes “keeps watch” at one of the tables—quirky, yes, but it adds a sense of whimsy that’s hard to forget. 

Spring and summer bring laughter, open shutters, and fresh-cut flowers in tiny jars. You’ll find tourists and locals alike perched outdoors, catching the breeze with a pastry and espresso, or photographing the café’s playful candy-cane decorations left over from winter, which somehow don’t feel out of place. 

The menu, while simple, does the basics right. Quality espresso drinks, flaky pastries, and in colder months, a soul-saving hot chocolate that’s better than it needs to be. 

If you’re lucky, there’s a seasonal special on offer—lavender lattes in the spring or spiced cider when the cold creeps in. 

Bonjour Café is a place to linger. Whether you're people-watching on a sunny afternoon or warming your hands by a paper cup in the snow, it feels like the café knows exactly what the day needs—and quietly provides it. 

In a city that’s changing fast, Bonjour Café has the rare gift of feeling timeless. A café for all seasons indeed. Located near the central pedestrian walkway, just off Bulevardul Ștefan cel Mare și Sfînt. The café kiosk sits adjacent to the park entrance and is surrounded by trees, string lights, and seasonal outdoor seating. Easy walking distance from the National Opera House and City Hall. 

FRIDAY FUNNIES / MAGIC BALL LEADERSHIP

 

THE FOODIST / SAUCER RESTAURANT LANDS IN ISTANBUL

 WITH A SIDE DISH OF SWAGGER

It hovers above the water like it knows it’s being photographed. A silver-skinned disk, all poise and provocation, projecting out over the Golden Horn as if Istanbul needed another reason to turn its head. 

Foster + Partners calls it a restaurant. That’s like calling the Orient Express a commuter train. This is architecture with swagger. The saucer’s cantilever is pure power move—no timid columns to spoil the view, just a clean sweep of glass and steel, holding court over centuries of cityscape. 

Inside, the space is a cinematic ellipse, all panoramic glass, warm wood accents, and lighting that makes every diner look like they’re about to sign a movie deal. The setting is part of a larger Foster + Partners rethink of Istanbul’s waterfront—retail pavilions, shaded promenades, and leafy courtyards designed to lure people away from their cars and into the public realm. 

But the saucer steals the show. 

You don’t just eat here; you orbit. From the table, Galata’s tower cuts the skyline, ferries stitch across the water, and the city’s call to prayer rolls in like an ambient soundtrack. It’s both ultramodern and utterly Istanbul—a reminder that this city has always been about layering the old with the audacious. 

 Yes, there’s the usual grumbling about pricy exclusivity—whether this hovering halo will be a democratic perch or just another trophy for the well-heeled. But for now, it’s the boldest new address in town. 

And like any great seduction, it doesn’t ask permission—it just shows up, dressed to kill, and leaves you wondering what’s for dessert. And since you’ve asked, here’s a prime example: a plate of pistachio baklava, served warm, with clotted kaymak cream so rich it could fund its own startup. 

So, what's this space age marvel called? 

 No name yet. Waiting for galactic diner to clear customs. And, until they hire a PR type there's no news on ownership, menu or chef.

 No one asked our post for a name but we'd call it the Carl Sagan or in a nod to 2001 flick about Hal's Place? 

Dish: Holden DeMayo, PillartoPost.org daily online magazine's dining guru

ART DECO CENTURY / FASHION WORLD OF GEORGE BARBIER

 Art Deco’s Master of Fashion Illustration 

In the golden age of Art Deco, when modernism flirted with theatrical luxury, few names shone as brightly in the realm of fashion illustration as George Barbier. His work, often described as a perfect marriage of elegance and fantasy, defined much of the 1910s and 1920s visual style for haute couture, theatre, and the emerging cosmopolitan lifestyle. A master draftsman and a stylistic visionary, Barbier captured the sleek geometry and exotic influences of Art Deco while infusing his designs with wit, sensuality, and a deep understanding of how fashion could tell a story. 

Born in Nantes in 1882, Barbier rose to prominence in Paris during the years when the Folies-Bergère and the Ballets Russes were redefining stage glamour. His illustrations appeared in influential fashion journals like Gazette du Bon Ton and Journal des Dames et des Modes, publications that catered to an elite readership hungry for the latest Parisian chic. At a time when the Art Deco movement was reshaping architecture, decorative arts, and graphic design, Barbier gave the fashion world its own visual manifesto. 

The image above reflects three of Barbier’s most iconic contributions to Art Deco fashion: 

1. The Feathered Revue Costume On the left, a dancer’s outfit bursts with swirling beadwork and an extravagant plume skirt, crowned by a geometric headdress. This style nods to Barbier’s collaborations with the Folies-Bergère, where costumes were not merely garments but visual spectacles designed to shimmer under stage lights. His ability to integrate strong Art Deco shapes into the soft motion of feathers became a hallmark of the cabaret’s golden age. 

2. The Sleek Day-to-Evening Ensemble In the center stands a columnar dress with a stylized palm motif—one of Barbier’s favorite botanical designs. The garment’s clean lines, vertical emphasis, and restrained yet opulent ornamentation capture the quintessential Art Deco silhouette. Long gloves and a fur stole add a note of sophistication, evoking the Parisian woman who could step from a high tea at the Ritz directly into an evening gala. 

3. The Draped Evening Gown On the right, a figure in a wrap-draped gown demonstrates Barbier’s mastery of translating ancient classical influences into modern form. The intricate paisley-like patterning nods to Orientalist inspirations that fascinated many Art Deco designers, while the garment’s flowing geometry reflects the era’s love of balanced proportions and subtle drama. 

Silver Brocade Evening Dress and Wig, 1914

Barbier’s work was more than aesthetic flourish. His illustrations often functioned as cultural commentary, celebrating the independence and confidence of the modern woman. His heroines were never passive—they gazed outward with poise, as if fully aware they were shaping the new century’s style codes. This portrayal aligned with a post-World War I shift in women’s roles and mirrored the liberation found in shorter skirts, bobbed hair, and a growing public presence in social life. 

Today, George Barbier’s legacy lives on not only in the preserved prints and rare publications cherished by collectors but also in the way contemporary fashion still borrows from his vocabulary of bold geometry, exoticism, and refined glamour. His work remains a testament to Art Deco’s enduring power: a style that managed to be both of its moment and timeless, capturing the optimism, luxury, and theatricality of a world dancing into modernity. 

Barbier illustrations: above, AuRevoir, 1924; nude, below, 1914

BODY DYNAMIC / WHAT IS A CHARLEY HORSE?

How can a fictional horse cause so much pain? 

And What Causes One? 

A Charley horse is a sudden, involuntary muscle cramp—most commonly in the calf, thigh, or foot. It often strikes without warning, usually during sleep or after exercise, and can last anywhere from a few seconds to several minutes. 

The muscle tightens painfully and may leave residual soreness afterward. 

Causes of a Charley Horse: 

• Dehydration: Low fluid levels reduce your body’s ability to maintain normal muscle function. 

• Electrolyte Imbalance: Deficiencies in potassium, magnesium, calcium, or sodium can trigger cramps. 

• Overuse or Strain: Prolonged exercise or muscle fatigue can provoke spasms, especially in athletes. 

• Poor Circulation: Reduced blood flow to the legs or feet—common in older adults—can increase cramp risk. 

• Nerve Compression: Spinal issues or pinched nerves can radiate pain or trigger muscle spasms. 

• Prolonged Sitting or Sleeping in Odd Positions: Limited movement or pressure on muscles during rest can bring one on. 

Though painful, most Charley horses are harmless. Stretching, hydrating, and massaging the muscle usually helps ease the pain. If cramps are frequent or severe, it might be time to consult a physician. 

Who came up with the Charley Horse? 

The term “Charley horse” originated in the United States in the late 19th century, and—like many colorful expressions from that era—its exact origin is debated, though all theories point toward baseball. Most accepted version: The phrase is believed to have been coined in the 1880s by baseball players, notably Jack Glasscock or Joe Quest of the Chicago White Stockings. 

Joe Quest

According to lore, Joe Quest (left)  once remarked that a teammate limping from a leg cramp resembled an old, stiff-legged workhorse named Charley that pulled a roller at the ballpark. The comparison stuck, and players began using “Charley horse” to describe leg cramps or stiffness. 

Originally, in the late 19th and early 20th centuries, a charley horse referred specifically to a bruised or strained thigh muscle, often the result of a direct blow. Athletes used it to describe the kind of deep, sudden dead-leg pain that caused limping and stiffness—not necessarily a cramp, but a contusion or muscle strain. 

Over time, though, the term evolved: 

• Then (1880s–1940s): "Charley horse" = thigh injury from impact—common among baseball infielders and football players. 

• Now (modern usage): "Charley horse" = any sudden, involuntary muscle cramp, especially in the calf or foot, usually occurring at night or during exercise. So both are correct, depending on the era and usage. The modern medical and layperson definition leans toward cramping, but the original sports slang absolutely referred to a thigh injury caused by trauma. Alternative theories: 

• Stable slang: “Charley horse” might have been stable jargon for a horse with a limp or muscular injury, later borrowed into baseball. 

• Veterinary use: Some suggest trainers used “Charley horse” to describe equine leg problems before it was applied to humans. When it entered popular language: By the 1890s, sportswriters were using the phrase in newspapers, and it quickly spread to the general public. 

Today, it's widely used in American English, while “cramp” remains the preferred term in British English. In short: a 19th-century baseball metaphor, born on the diamond, and limping into everyday speech ever since. 

________________

 PillartoPost.org's "Body Dynamic" series explores how our inner systems respond to the outer world—one heartbeat at a time. 

MEDIA MONDAY / REMEMBER THE ISRAEL - IRAN WAR?

With the world’s attention locked on GazaGate, EpsteinGate and Homeless DCgate, some critical international developments have slipped under the Persian carpet.    

Here’s the latest on the Israel–Iran War, 2025—a conflict whose fires may not be out just yet. The short but devastating war erupted in June 2025 when Israel launched sweeping airstrikes across Iran, striking nuclear facilities, military bases, and high-ranking IRGC targets. 

In response, Iran unleashed Operation True Promise 3, sending hundreds of drones and missiles into Israeli territory. For nearly two weeks, the Middle East teetered on the edge of a larger regional conflagration. 

The 12-day war ended in a tenuous ceasefire. But the damage was immense. Iran’s airports, oil refineries, and power grids lay in ruins. Oil exports fell by more than 50 percent. Civilian casualties climbed above 600, with thousands injured and dozens of senior scientists and military leaders among the dead. Many of Iran’s surviving nuclear scientists have since gone into hiding under heavy guard. The political fallout continues. 

The International Atomic Energy Agency (IAEA) has dispatched officials to Tehran for the first time since the war, though their visit will not include inspections—only technical talks that Iran says will be “complicated” and tightly controlled. 

 Regionally, Iran’s defense chief is in Iraq pushing for a new security pact aimed at controlling cross-border militia movements and preventing future Israeli strikes via Iraqi airspace. Meanwhile, the United States is promoting a deal to disarm Hezbollah by year’s end in exchange for a full Israeli withdrawal from southern Lebanon—a proposal Lebanon’s cabinet has tentatively endorsed, though Hezbollah itself remains defiant. 

 Tensions remain combustible. Political analysts warn that Israel could launch another major strike on Iran before December 2025—perhaps even this month—if intelligence suggests Tehran is rebuilding its nuclear capabilities or repositioning for retaliation. 

 The war’s military phase may have ended in June, but the strategic contest between Israel and Iran continues—largely away from the headlines, yet under the constant glare of satellites, spies, and the small cadre of diplomats still trying to prevent the next explosion. 

SUNDAY REVIEW / RALPH GIBSON'S PHOTOGRAPHIC ALCHEMY

WELCOME TO THE GEOMETRY OF DREAMS 

By all outward appearances, Ralph Gibson is a photographer. But to define him by that word alone is to miss the point. Gibson is a conjurer of shadow, an architect of intimacy, a minimalist with the soul of a surrealist. 

For more than half a century, he has wandered through the ordinary world with a Leica in hand and a cathedral in his mind, elevating the fragments of everyday life into a personal mythology of light and form. 

Born in Los Angeles in 1939, Gibson grew up amid the backdrop of cinema. His father worked as a technician on Hitchcock films, and young Ralph absorbed the grammar of suspense and silence long before he studied f-stops. It was in the Navy that Gibson first picked up a camera with purpose. Later, he apprenticed under Dorothea Lange and worked briefly with Robert Frank—two mentors who anchored him in humanism while he reached for abstraction. 

But Gibson never wanted to explain the world. He wanted to fracture it. He didn’t shoot scenes; he sliced them. A woman’s bare shoulder, the curve of a staircase, a black telephone dangling off the hook—these are not visual records but psychological artifacts. 

His photographs are less about subjects than they are about presence, tension, and the negative space that surrounds knowing. In 1970, unable to find a publisher who understood his vision, Gibson created Lustrum Press and released The Somnambulist, a slim, enigmatic book that would become the first of his celebrated Black Trilogy. It was a work of dream logic: noir silhouettes, limbs in motion, blindfolded eyes, cryptic signage. There were no captions, no context—just the implied rhythm of a man following his subconscious down a dark alley of perception. 

The trilogy continued with Déjà-Vu and Days at Sea, each book composed like a musical suite, where image followed image not by narrative necessity, but through intuition and mood. 

For Gibson, photography is less a way of looking and more a way of feeling. He trusts the viewer to make connections the same way a reader might interpret a poem—through inference, resonance, and silence. Gibson’s signature style emerged early and never diluted: high-contrast black-and-white, hard geometry softened by skin or fabric, compositions pared down until they hum like tuning forks. He favored strong diagonals and inky voids. 

His photos seem to flicker at the threshold of meaning, inviting you to step forward and fall in. As the decades passed, Gibson published more than 40 monographs, many through his own imprint, solidifying the photobook not just as a vessel for images, but as a work of art in and of itself. Syntax, Chiaroscuro, Infanta, Tropism—these titles reflect his poetic, almost cinematic approach to sequencing. In his hands, turning a page becomes a kind of descent into altered time. His work has been shown in hundreds of museums, collected around the world, and celebrated with awards ranging from the Leica Medal of Excellence to France’s Legion of Honour. 

But Gibson has always remained just outside the spotlight, content to inhabit the crepuscular zones he photographs so well. In recent years, to the surprise of his analog devotees, Gibson began exploring digital color photography. But the shift was not a surrender to modernity—it was another chapter in the same obsession. 

His digital work, lush with unexpected hues and chromatic tension, reveals that color can be just as surreal as shadow, if wielded with restraint. Now in his eighties, Ralph Gibson continues to photograph. He moves with the same silent authority as his subjects: elusive, elegant, unbothered by trends. 

His images—whether in black, white, or color—still whisper rather than shout. They still leave space for breath, pause, and doubt. Perhaps the most remarkable thing about Ralph Gibson is that he has never once chased the obvious. 

He does not record. He reveals—through subtraction, through suggestion, through that uncanny sense of framing that makes the world feel half-remembered. A door ajar. A bare foot on tile. A shadow falling across a naked breast. These are not mere details. They are glyphs in his private alphabet, a language he’s been writing across decades—wordless, beautiful, and still unfinished. 

SATURDAY NIGHT ACTION / TAKE YOUR LOVER(S) TO LISBON'S BEST WINE BARS

Two sets of twins & friends on a Saturday night wine bar roll.
Image F. Stop Fitzgerald, PillartoPost.org

Let's do Lisbon’s Best Wine Bars 

A reduction of an Austin Bush compilation published recently in a tasty edition of  CulinaryBackstreets.com 

Portugal tops the world in wine consumption per capita, and Lisbon offers plenty of opportunities to indulge. But if you’re seeking something sensual, distinctive—small producers, rare grapes, or obscure regions poured by knowledgeable staff—these bars stand out. 

Black Sheep – Lisbon’s expanded “smallest wine bar” where rare finds and expert guidance meet. 

Pigmeu da Ribeira. Time Out Market’s hub for hands-on wine classes and hearty snacks. 

 

 Rude – Cozy former deli serving quirky bottles and fresh oysters. 

 Vino Vero – One of Lisbon’s original natural wine bars, still buzzing every night. 

 Bom Bom Bom – French-Portuguese couple serves natural wines, half Portuguese, half from offbeat countries, with live jazz and DJs. We drank: Meio Rural Cristóvão Jampal 2021, vibrant and acidic.

 

 O Pif – Millennial-pink Anjos hideaway pouring only Portuguese wines with French flair. 

AUTHOR: AUSTIN BUSH

RETRO FILES / WOODSTOCK THE ACCIDENTAL MIRACLE

Behind the Scenes and Little-Known Realities of the Woodstock Festival 

When people invoke Woodstock, they picture rain-soaked flower children, Hendrix’s guitar wailing over a sunrise, and a mass of muddy youth preaching peace. The truth, though no less iconic, is messier, stranger, and far more fascinating than the polished nostalgia we’ve come to love. 

The Woodstock Music & Art Fair ran from August 15 to 18, 1969, officially advertised as “An Aquarian Exposition: 3 Days of Peace & Music.” It took place on a 600-acre dairy farm owned by Max Yasgur in Bethel, New York—about 43 miles southwest of the town of Woodstock itself. 

Behind this cultural behemoth were four young, ambitious men: Michael Lang, Artie Kornfeld, Joel Rosenman, and John P. Roberts. Lang and Kornfeld were music industry insiders; Rosenman and Roberts were venture capitalists with little interest in music festivals but a big checkbook. 

Originally hoping to create a profit-making music and arts center, they pivoted into promoting a large-scale concert. It spiraled into something beyond even their wildest projections. 

  
The Numbers: Who Showed Up and What It Cost 

Organizers planned for 50,000 attendees. By the first note, over 400,000 people had arrived—many climbing fences, ignoring tickets, and camping on highways. At its peak, estimates placed the crowd at up to 500,000, making it, at the time, the largest gathering of its kind in American history. 

Financially, Woodstock was a disaster—at least initially. The infrastructure costs (sound system, security, sanitation, artists’ fees) ballooned. Since most concertgoers didn’t pay, the festival lost over $1.3 million (equivalent to around $10 million today). It was only after the documentary Woodstock (1970) and soundtrack album were released that investors began to recover costs and even turn a profit. Ironically, the film saved Woodstock. 

It rained heavily on two of the four days (Saturday and Sunday), converting the rolling green fields into a swamp. Performers trudged barefoot to the stage, and the crowd built makeshift tents out of plastic tarps and army surplus. Despite the chaos, only two deaths were reported: one from a heroin overdose and another tragically run over by a tractor as he slept in a field. 

There were no homicides. In a crowd of half a million, that’s extraordinary. There were three reported births—although some sources dispute whether all occurred on-site. More than 5,000 medical incidents were treated, mostly related to drug use, exposure, or minor injuries. Medical staff and volunteers, many from the Haight-Ashbury Free Clinic and local hospitals, established a functioning field hospital and worked tirelessly. 

No Marriages, Few Rules, and a Remarkably Tame Crowd 

There were no known marriages performed during the festival, though plenty of impromptu “unions” took place under the influence of music and mescaline. A few lost children were temporarily reported, mostly toddlers who wandered from sleeping areas—each was recovered. 

Security was intentionally minimal. Dubbed “The Please Force,” the team avoided heavy-handed enforcement. Though utterly unequipped for the numbers, they maintained an almost miraculous order. There was no looting, no riots, and food shortages were met with charity: the Hog Farm commune, led by Wavy Gravy, fed thousands with brown rice and vegetables. 

The National Guard eventually airlifted in medical supplies and food. 

Best Performances: Top Five That Still Resonate 

1. Jimi Hendrix – Performing early Monday morning to a thinned crowd, his distorted, haunting rendition of “The Star-Spangled Banner” became an anthem of American contradiction: beauty and violence, rebellion and patriotism. 

2. Janis Joplin – Electrifying and raw. Though not in top form vocally, her emotional intensity was unmatched. 

3. Santana – A then-unknown act, Santana’s hypnotic percussion and Carlos’s guitar solos stunned the audience, especially during “Soul Sacrifice.” 

4. Joe Cocker, left – His raspy, convulsive delivery of “With a Little Help from My Friends” under a brewing storm sky became a legendary moment of communal catharsis. 

5. Richie Havens – The very first performer, who improvised the now-iconic “Freedom” when told to keep playing while other acts scrambled to arrive. 

Worst Performance? Just One Word: Sha-Na-Na Though they played only two songs, many critics and historians find the doo-wop revival band Sha-Na-Na out of sync with the countercultural energy. Their kitschy leather jackets and 1950s greaser vibe felt misplaced between The Band and Jimi Hendrix. 

Behind-the-Scenes Headaches 

Traffic [not the band] was the first and biggest headache. Highways into Bethel backed up for over 20 miles. Helicopters had to ferry in artists like The Who and Crosby, Stills, Nash & Young. Several acts almost didn’t make it. 

Sanitation was nonexistent. Portable toilets overflowed by Day 2. The rain turned latrine zones into something out of trench warfare. Scheduling was impossible. Sets ran late into the night. Crews worked nonstop with minimal sleep. Technical problems plagued nearly every performance. Food shortages led to price gouging early on—until organizers insisted all food vendors go nonprofit, which caused many to walk off. That’s when the Hog Farm stepped in with communal kitchens. 

Did the Area Survive? The small town of Bethel (population under 3,000 at the time) was overwhelmed but resilient. While some locals were furious about trespassing and property damage, many others housed and helped the bedraggled visitors. Max Yasgur became a hero to the counterculture—and a pariah to some of his neighbors. His farm was never used for a concert again. Bethel returned to sleepy anonymity, until recent decades when the Bethel Woods Center for the Arts opened on the site, preserving its legacy in a museum and amphitheater. 

Legacy: Aftermath and Reinvention 

Woodstock became a brand, later reimagined in 1994, 1999 (infamously violent), and nearly again in 2019—before that anniversary attempt collapsed. 

Yet Woodstock 1969 stands alone. It was an accidental miracle. A logistical failure turned spiritual victory. 

A corporate venture hijacked by its audience. 

A mess that became magic. 

Final Thought 

What made Woodstock historic wasn’t just the lineup, or even the sheer size. It was the alchemy of timing, idealism, and improvisation. Half a million mostly young Americans gathered—without smartphones, GPS, or infrastructure—and, instead of descending into chaos, proved that for one rainy weekend, peace was more than just a slogan. 

They didn’t clean up after themselves, but they didn’t burn anything down either. 

Woodstock survived the storm because it learned to dance in the mud. 

And then the rains came:

IS THAT YOU, GRANDMA?...  

Freedom's just another word for nothing else to wear...

New American Gothic, 1969.

TALENT...

Joe Crocker and his Band 

Among those back stage with Grace Slick (center) are Paul Kantner (left) and Bay Area Music Promoter Bill Graham (right).

Carlos Santana and Band

and another of the immortals

FACES IN THE CROWD...

SEE YOU LATER...