I was raised in an era when we spent a lot of time worrying about Russia. That was because of communism, which was such an obsession in my Catholic school that the countries on the map were colored red (communist-controlled), pink (leaning communist) or green (safe — for now). Only the United States and Ireland were green.
For those of us who spent our childhoods getting drilled on how to be prepared to die for our faith in the event of a communist takeover, it was a relief when the Soviet Union broke up and nobody felt obliged to worry about Moscow any more.
But now things are getting scary. Vladimir Putin invaded Ukraine, bombed the hell out of Aleppo, tried to interfere with our election. He’s just the kind of person Sister Mary Ingrid warned us about. But Donald Trump adores him. You can’t get into the Trump Cabinet unless you think Putin is a great guy.
The bromance seems to have started in 2013, when Trump was preparing to go to Moscow for the Miss Universe Pageant. He wondered — via a tweet, naturally — whether Putin would be going there, too: “If so, will he become my new best friend?”