You ever notice how every war comes with its own advertising campaign? They don’t just drop bombs anymore, they drop slogans. Russia and Ukraine? That’s the “freedom and democracy” brand. Israel and Palestine? That’s the “complicated family dispute” brand. Same blood, same rubble, but two completely different commercials.

And the media — oh, the media. These people don’t report the news, they sell it. They package it like laundry detergent: “New and improved conflict in Eastern Europe! Now with 30% more moral clarity!” When Russia invaded Ukraine, the whole news machine snapped into action like a Broadway musical. Somber music, maps with arrows, anchors with serious voices. “This is an attack on freedom itself.” Freedom itself! Sounds big, doesn’t it? Sounds like they’re defending truth, justice, and the American way. Which is funny, because the American way has usually meant bombing the shit out of someone who can’t fight back.

And suddenly, everybody’s a Ukraine expert. People who couldn’t find Kiev on a map if it was tattooed on their ass are posting hashtags, waving little flags, changing their profile pictures. McDonald’s pulls out of Russia. Coca‑Cola makes a statement. Starbucks issues solidarity. You know a war is real when the people who sell sugar water and fries get involved. “You may be starving in a bunker, but at least we stand with you — limited time only!”

Now flip the channel. Israel and Palestine. Oh boy. Whole different script. Same bombs, same dead kids, same smoke in the air, but the coverage? Suddenly it’s like you walked in on a family argument you weren’t invited to. The anchors lean in: “Well, it’s complicated.” You ever notice how “it’s complicated” is just adult code for “We don’t want to lose our advertisers”?

Because here’s the deal: Russia is an easy villain. Putin is the perfect bad guy. He’s got the scowl, the shirtless horseback photos, the whole Bond villain starter kit. Perfect casting. Israel and Palestine? That’s messy. That’s history, religion, politics, money, land, blood, and guilt all tied into one giant ball of “don’t touch that if you want to keep your job.” So instead, the media becomes contortionists: “Both sides… cycle of violence… shades of gray.” Shades of gray? Folks, I don’t need fifty shades of gray. I need you to stop bombing hospitals and schools.

And don’t think for one second the media doesn’t love war. War is their Super Bowl. War is ratings. War gives them the chance to look serious while cashing checks. They’ve got correspondents in flak jackets standing fifty miles from the action just to say, “As you can see behind me…” No, I can’t see behind you. I see a brick wall and some smoke in the distance. You’re safer than I am in my living room, asshole.

Meanwhile, the talking heads sit in their studios with touch screens and charts, pointing at arrows like they’re ESPN analysts: “And if you look here, the Russians have advanced from the east, and if you look here, the Palestinians have advanced their desperation.” It’s not news, it’s a video game. They’re narrating body counts like it’s Monday Night Football. “And that makes 25 civilian deaths today — back to you, Tom!”

And here’s the callback, folks: the Ukraine war got a branding kit. Blue and yellow filters, celebrity fundraisers, heartfelt speeches. It had marketing value. Israel and Palestine? That one doesn’t get the package deal. That one’s “complicated.” You can’t slap a “Stand with Gaza” frappuccino on the Starbucks menu without losing half your customers. You can’t make a “Peace in the Middle East” Happy Meal without getting angry letters from both sides.

Because let’s face it: the only thing that matters to the media, the politicians, and the corporations — is comfort. Who’s comfortable crying for whom? Who’s comfortable buying a T‑shirt, a flag, or a latte? They’ll let you have outrage, sure — but only the kind they can monetize.

So don’t be fooled. All these wars, all these conflicts, it’s the same damn play. Money, land, power, and whose God has the bigger dick. That’s it. Same script, different actors. And the media? They’re the hype men. They don’t care who dies, as long as the ratings live.

And you know what the real punchline is? The war doesn’t end when the bombs stop. The war ends when the advertisers get bored. That’s when they move on to the next tragedy, the next “special report,” the next human suffering package they can sell you in 30‑second intervals between soap and soda commercials.

So remember, folks: when you’re watching the news and you see bombs falling and anchors crying, just ask yourself — what’s the slogan for this war? Because there’s always a slogan. And behind that slogan is a network, a sponsor, and a bunch of executives who are praying — not for peace, but for good ratings