Prison of Nations must be destroyed!

Everything that happens today, has happened several times, repeated through generations cycles.

Climbs the genetic memory of the devil-ti-where, and are repeated from generation to generation clones of the same characters. I must admit, slightly terrifying because look and unkempt beard with liquid bomber with glowing eyes (and her sister Lizaveta) is, nose sniffles, all the right to alter ready.

White is beautiful, of course, and bearing, so boring and slag, some selamanya policemen, pot-bellied landlords, geranium and starched cloth, and in the evenings out of boredom on a piano; the farmer in his coat (the coat) the face is bearded, and untidy, etava-samawa, inarticulate, steam machines interesuetsja; and the clerk, pomaded side parting, the bench — everything is replaces the party United Russia, headed by Chubais.

Another thing is red! And now, it’s all kinds of liberals, supporters of Navalny, and so on.

Freedom and the March wind in her hair ruddy schoolgirl with a red bow! Fun burns bourgeois mansion, crackles! The blossoming of the arts and the Left Front! Art events: down with shame, bourgeois morality and kitchen slavery (bareheaded suffragettes with the cigarettes in his mouth). The yellow shirt! A human scenery!

Interested in history? The books I read? Do not read? In vain.

“Prison of Nations must be destroyed!”

“Turn the imperialist war into a civil!”

And yet there is something about the defeat his right-wing government for the overthrow of the bloody regime.

Reasoning and well-fed oligarchs – stupid, irresponsible redneck for their own good! A stubborn, unpleasant face in the dirt, where they belong.

… And then, later: “Well, the Germans as a cultural nation!”

And ends with demand — “there is nothing counter-revolutionary on the fence not to write! Under the threat of execution is no friend to confiscation. Commissioner Podolsky district, men’s, women’s and ladies ‘ tailor Abram Prusiner.”

But it is a temporary picture, is eternal and does not change – the broken roads, the bend of the river, the rickety fences…

Valery Rozanov

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