Donald Trump’s Iran attack was correct-the situation in the morning

Love Readers, dear reader,

I can hardly believe it. For the first time Donald Trumpas you can expect from a leader.

So far, the trained deal maker was afraid of the absolute, made decisions exclusively with maximum maneuverability. Zollhammer, Tiktok-ban, military aid for Ukraine: always two steps, with an option back to at least one step.

“Fire and Retreat” means in the military jargon. Not so the decision to go to the war against the Iran to enter. Trump was rarely so brave. A warm shower jumps into the cold water. It remains to be seen whether the decision was correct. But it is already certain: it was worthy of the position of a US president.

Already in the short explanation of the American people, Trump – apart from some brand -core dropouts – was unusually steadfast. No trace of the usual arrogance. Instead: almost sober determination. His threats? Perfectly balanced, facts instead of bile. His argument? Coherent. And another rarity: Trump is right. “It can’t go on like this.”

Israelrather Machtmann Netanyahu, cannot buckle, for the sake of your own future. Not now that he has finally found him after the PR disaster Gaza, the opponent, whose malice everyone can agree. And the hatred of the mullahs glows too hot to play a relevant role in their decision -making.

Netanyahu attracted Trump, who had sworn to waging the United States into a new war, with the view of a place in the history books. Trump longs for nothing. Except maybe after the intoxication of power. And even for a US president, it is probably never more experienced than at the moment when death rains from heaven.

But the motives, whether vain or noble, are secondary in the current situation. Correct decisions can also be made for the wrong reason. Despite the slip, which a war in any reasonable observer has inevitably triggered in every halfway, is the simple truth: the opportunity is too good to let it pass. Iranian air defense is harmless and the military leadership is headless.

Now Trump is entering an unknown, dangerous terrain, a foreign country beyond the Point of No Return. No time for homesickness. He has to take the next step, has to do what he has previously failed (whether out of contempt or pragmatism) and formally ask the congress for his blessing. The United States has not started this war. But you can end it.

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What happened at the weekend shows one thing very clearly: Europe’s powerlessness. While the United States mixes the cards in the Middle East, they still bend unsuspectingly about the game instructions in Brussels and Berlin.

The legitimate hope that Germany could again become a serious part in the game of the throne under Friedrich Merz has definitely got a bitter dampers. My Berlin colleagues Veit Medick and Jan Rosenkranz talk about his bitter knowledge in the new “5-minute talk”:

I save you and me a convulsive transition from war to the curious. So:

I find dolls only mediocre. However, the idea of ​​being trapped in a dim, doorless space, of which dozens of lid, but somehow not completely lifeless porcelain eyes follow me, triggered a similarly intense escape reflex as it probably only feels JD vance on a pride parade.

I am happy that I’m not in Brazil right now. Nobody escapes this dummy these days. Baby doors are omnipresent there these days: on the street, on television – and of course on social media, where influencers bathing things, dress up, even their “birth”.

It finally became absurd at the beginning of the month when a man hit a four -month -old child on his head because he confused it with one of these dummies of people. There are now 30 draft laws that are supposed to banish these hyper-realistic “Reborn” dolls from everyday life. Although the debate was probably artificially inflated by the political right.

However. Perhaps the Brazilian government should instead toast a counter trend and subsidize diddl leaves. An increased paper demand probably gave the last little rainforest. I think about it again.

I like to eat and a lot of fish. And honestly: so far I have been more of the environment than sorry for the animals. Until Saturday.

With the bullet train in the mere 450 kilometer from Seoul, I am dusted. In two and a half hours – take it, Deutsche Bahn!

The 3.5 million port towns did not blew me away compared to the capital. Except for the Jagalchi fish market. On the ground floor of this oversized sales place from the dimensions of a exhibition hall, but useful dealers in red and yellow rubber bundle offer pretty much the entire range of the seven oceans: huge snow crabs, glib -beautiful sea cucumbers, eels and octopuses, mussels of sometimes absurd size and of course scaly of all shape and color.

The highlight: it does not smell of fish here, but for aquarium. The majority of the “goods” are significantly fresher than I would like. That means: lives. That also means: if you want to eat, you have to have killed. Pounding a little more filling-sized to let him put it on the plate for one floor higher, I did not bring my heart to my own amazement. In the end, an inkfish had to believe that lifestyle is swimming against the same place in his plexiglass prison over and over again. After all, I was able to look at the server ambitions.

I will write down the whole story in more detail the days. But first I wish you a great day – Annyeonghi Gyeseyo!