On scan: typical pathetic replica of a typical lover of Old Soviet TM.
In one discussion, have skif_tag caught my eye this thoughtful review. Although such comments can be found anywhere. You could say it’s axiomatic Declaration from the textbook model of the scoop is the same Che Guevara on the Yupik. I have at the sight of such review always occurs a generalized portrait of this scoop: birth year around 1975 or a little later. In army did not serve, but perhaps in the 90s, visited the NBP or otherwise sit down next to this organization. Bloated, with fat instead of muscles prone to alcoholism, anything heavier than dick in her life not raised, but wholly confident in his own importance for being as easy to play memory classic agitprop set of stamps, which pounded the young pioneers and Komsomol in the Soviet time, numerous rulers of the pioneer and Komsomol meetings. In other words – the usual gasket, worthless and incapable of anything but eager to rise in his own eyes by saying with an expression of pathetic beautiful words, called in common “blah-blah-blah”. Why do I have this is the image that arises when reading such statements? Because in real life I’ve met Soviet lovers often exactly like that.
Well, just pure psychology. The man who wants to look heroic, but even close does not look, puts on Yupik something heroic. Fat useless wanker, putting the Yupik portrait of the heroic revolutionary-partisan – albeit a rare asshole – Che Guevara, as if he rises in his own eyes and it is easier to say all this paranjoy scrap, which in Soviet times in Soviet teenagers acted better than any sleeping pill.
But it’s not about looks per se. The appearance of the apologists of the Soviet old just underscores the huge gap between their fantasies and reality. But the question is, again, not in appearance. The question is that in Soviet times, the characters of this type did nothing. Not in the sense that it did not go to work. To work they went of course, and perhaps even ahead of the schedule for release of third-rate junk that then overstock the shelves of Soviet stores. But in his personal life such a person is one hundred percent didn’t have any Hobbies. He came home after work and stupidly staring into Soviet TV and all. Why do I think so? Yes, because if during the Soviet time people something passionately and truly fond of, sooner or later (and sooner rather than later) he rested in the wretchedness of the Scoop and that nothing of what he needs for his Hobbies, he just can not buy. And here, by the way, these eternal Soviet couch potatoes so good is the thesis that “the spiritual above the material” – because they themselves do for themselves is not sought, but only lay on the stove and listened to the speakers of the program “Time”. This is their mythical “spiritual”. And they lived in the Soviet Union easier all the others.
This is the best recipe for a happy life – the lower needs, especially in the more miserable situation can feel happy. But only with one caveat. Demand is low here is not the result of a thorough self-restraint and deliberate austerity, but only a low level of development and Outlook. That is, the person is mediocre and needs is mediocre. And therefore to satisfy him much easier.
Well, take, for example, a small child. The child wants to draw. And already here we can distinguish the human embryo, capable of development from the future Strait. Small Strait may also want to draw. But he, in fact, no matter what, and that. He still does not know how to draw. Can paint the Soviet seroburomalinovymi paint something obscene on Kusa cardboard – and already happy, because his need for creativity satisfied in full. A child with more developed mental organization feels the need for something more. He wants his picture was even inept, but at least bright, that is painted bright colors. And if he has these paints no – it need not already satisfied. Well, you understand the algorithm, in short?
What I started with colors? And the fact that for me personally, the attainment of the Scoop started with paint. Rather – with the markers. If someone does not know – I was born in 1965. Now imagine something like this in the fifth year of life I saw someone in kindergarten these markers. That is, it was about 1970 (maybe 1971 or so). Where did that child come from the pens – I have no idea, maybe someone from zagranku brought in, maybe even where. But I was fascinated by their rich colors and how amazing markers you can draw Naturally on the same day mother got me pumped up that I want to have this color miracle. We went to the nearest to our home office supply store on the Arbat. Right here:
It is, however, a photograph of some very old, but not the essence. Markers weren’t there. In several other stores too. So I have gained experience – of course I was not ready to realize it – that if you see someone in a movie or a kind of artifact, which, therefore, exists in nature, this does not imply that you can buy in a Soviet store. Later, the mom – to pull – got me all the same markers. It had to go somewhere on the subway, then bus, then walk up to any seller and say the magic password of the Soviet: “I am from Ivan Ivanovich.”
Well it’s obviously not from Ivan, but from some other compassionate person who helped with the markers. Also the initiation from childhood to Soviet technology purchase something needed. And those who parents did not work in such work, where it was possible to make contacts with Ivan Ivanovic, of course University life was not. And now clap your meaningless eyes and important grunt on the air: “I guess we lived in different countries. In the USSR I do not remember.” Of course, we live in different countries, honey. I’m real and you’re in the country of Infanterii. And now, by the way, we also live in different countries. Although the location seems to be one. But I digress.
I always loved to draw and had not that talent, but a certain predisposition to this case. And very soon found that is a normal draw, you can not any brush. It turns out that the brushes, which are usually to the stationery they is that the glue is spread. But to draw well, it is necessary with the special pile, there any protein, etc. and even different sizes. And as you may guess, I soon found out that a good brush to buy in Soviet shops is not an easy task. Not that is completely impossible, but far from ordinary. And it is in Moscow. And what was in some provincial town?
Well, much later I found out that no self-respecting artist would never be to write your own canvas – even if it will be image asfaltobetonov – Soviet colors. Because the Soviet paint is the lamest shit one can imagine. And there’s no anti – Soviet- this is a rough prose of Soviet life. But then again, the one who never checked in dozens of times could see in the stationery Department of some set of the Soviet gouache, and a set of Soviet oil paints in tubes and the rest of your life to rest assured that the paint in the USSR, everything was perfect. And tell him that in the Soviet stores did not sell the normal paint, and indeed in fact in the USSR produced a good paint, such a person will begin to resent, to wave his hands, blow bubbles and stammering from resentment to posit: “Perhaps we lived in different countries!”
My love for painting from a very young age – before school – I got love for sculpting. It all started with that one boy in our yard (he was older than me for five years) friends and I play table hockey.
What? You probably thought they were playing in a hockey game?
No, in the USSR, where I lived and my buddies in the late 60s like that if was started, it was almost a fairy tale. Maybe he was someone it was then. But I’m talking about those who not ever heard. Later, closer to the mid-70s, he became more available (and I also appeared), but then the boys played hockey in the plasticine. An inverted Shoe box (and maybe something else), ruled under a hockey field and a set of clay players. And, by the way, another question, in which hockey was more fun to play. We, the small fry, the senior was kept on the bench, allowing only reverently to witness their matches. So I thought: why I don’t blind yourself, too, of the hockey team? In General, my love of clay became a deep passion for many childhood years. What I just did: fortress, army, tanks, planes. And I can safely say – about the Soviet plasticine I know everything. In particular know that the best box for 50 cents (12 colors) even in Moscow sold not always. Not that it was right fierce deficit, but when you’re like Urfin jus company for company, battalion for battalion, regiment after regiment, without break prepared the army for the next battle clay you want very much. And walk to the store for him often. And often in idle. So thanks to this class, I strengthened my knowledge about the strangeness of Soviet trade.
Oh, and incidentally found out – I’m summer and beyond Moscow went – outside Moscow, in trade the situation is even worse. And besides I have always been tormented by the question: why not release the clay not only in color sets, but gray monochrome. And you think it’s easy to construct a fortress long time to mix in the hands of the colored bars to get a big piece of uniform gray color?
On the other hand, there were those – and these of course were the majority – that clay was considered only as a Supplement to the General school set. Well, there is in class work the teacher will tell the blind Bunny and a squirrel. Well blind something ugly to do homework. Well, maybe a couple times a year will open up nearly untouched box blind or something “for the soul.” For of course with clay has always been great. They have always been. Tell them about faults with clay in the sale and what you will hear? That’s right – “I guess we lived in different Soviet Union.” And then! Can still and the picture show, here’s a example:
Here, not clay? And boxes in six colors, and 12 colored. Moscow, book House on Kalinin, 1974. Live and be happy. Those who lived in the Soviet Union, sailed past it, usually without even noticing. But much later – in our time – they have formed the opinion that all were in excess. But how else? Because personally, they did not lack in this kind of goods due to the fact that they did not feel they need because of their immaturity – so it was sehr gut.
About the book – the theme is old, I have a lot about this case. What else is there new to say?
Again, how to prove modern pop-eyed idiot whose childhood reading books was a heavy duty, appointed him a teacher for the holidays – how to prove to him that the book deficit in the Scoop was fierce. How so? He’s personally at the behest of a teacher came in the children’s library and took there recommended a book about pioneers-heroes and personally saw how many other books in the library. And he sometimes passed by the window of a bookstore and saw a lot of books in there.
Hard to argue with such sweet lips. For him, the sweet lips, unaware that his skimpy little world of spiritual needs may be ridiculous to someone else. No, he just considers himself a standard and measure. Personally, he books enough. That means all they lacked. And to whom is not enough – he lived in some other Soviet Union. So, at least, it seems the chaw-bacon, having read the preamble. But will continue.
In the mid 70’s I became interested in photography. And again we can say the following. If I stopped at many “fans” who had a “Change-8M”, and then dad fed and occasionally photographed something, I probably never would have met him with the dull picture that was characteristic for Soviet photo-trade. The most common film “Svema 64/65” – intermittent. Need a paper – not always. Even the chemicals intermittently. About color generally silent. For the Soviet colour film was able to photograph only a pervert. Self-respecting man used to buy ORWO.
But then he logged, first, that German ORWO was not always, and secondly, that it was much more expensive, and, in the third – the most serious – that it and the chemicals needed a family, i.e., ORWO. And they were much more Soviet, and sold intermittently. In Moscow, Leningrad and the capitals of the Union republics. But in other cities the photographers if you want to do color photography, traveled to Moscow. Well, what to photos Kodak, the Soviet Union, they did not sell. Also interesting, you know that such a thing exists in nature, but at the same time know that for you it is unavailable. The sweet days.
And I noticed one thing, when I started with color photography. And captivity, and chemicals ORWO was decorated much prettier than the Soviet, was packaged carefully. So all the chemicals in those plastic drop-down boxes, which then can be used for storing different small things of type of electronic components. Even the chemicals Packed carefully, some in transparent bags. And when you’re prepared from the dry powder of these reagents the solution – here a miracle! the solution turned out clean without any crumbs, sticks, hairs and other dirt particles. But the Soviet reagent then it was always filtered because it is always contain any debris.
Well, about the fact that to buy a Zenit-E (even with money) was quite a task – I generally keep quiet. But once I got in Sokolniki international exhibition of photo-movie. And saw a Minolta camera with lots of lenses, filters, light meters, flashes and generally a lot different.
And there can even be arch-a Soviet patriot. But comparing the camera with the Soviet Minolta DSLRs suggested that the USSR produced some obsolete this thing. But again, these are from the parallel of the USSR, received as a gift Shift-8M or taking Batani fed, walked a couple of times a year to the store, bought any film, what was clicked that no hitting, and then handed over to the darkroom, where they print their muddy masterpieces on paper 9×12, and was happy. And still believe that the Soviet Union in terms of photolubitel was all chic Shine-beauty.
Further, in the course of life in the Scoop, if you start doing something serious on all cylinders, almost immediately, bristling at the fact that in the USSR the possibilities of creative growth was limited to the most serious wretchedness of the domestic industry and trade. In childhood, it could wear not very impressive. Well, let’s say, when the pioneer in a circle cutting out and burning kruzhkovody (how much it is officially called, can’t remember), once the Hui overlaid friend who broke the blade of the jigsaw. Then it seemed logical – but what, he told you how to hold the jigsaw so as not to break the nail file and the kid broke. And that’s got. But now I realize that kruzhkovody so vehemently because in the Scoop and in this summer camp in particular, these penny nail files for the fret saw was fierce deficit, the poet valued almost like gold. The company could build housing for summer camp. And to provide summer camp saws to jigsaws in sufficient quantity could not. Here he was, the Soviet Union, in which I lived.
I want to do modeling? Nothing easier in the USSR. Buy the magazine “modelist-Konstruktor” (if you can find), and pick a thing for the soul. The truth about it in this magazine do not write – you are unlikely to find in the stores all of the tools and materials to make those wonderful models, drawings which you will find. But the situation of shortage of tools and materials long since evaporated, but still the old binder magazines. So that you can vengeance to lie about creative freedom in the USSR. Especially when he never seriously in the USSR were not engaged.
Children grow up and become teenagers. And wish they too grow up. Teens have enough to sculpt from clay or paint. He was already inexplicably want to listen to music. For those who have the tastes did not go further VIA “Hello song” and Alla Pugacheva, the Soviet Union in this sense it freely. Well, if people want to listen to rock music? And not “Soviet rock”, but a real Western rock music? Here comes the final enlightenment. The wonderful warm tube Brezhnev Scoop you could learn, say, about the group Pink Floyd. But in order to collect all of their albums, you had to try pretty. First, they were not sold in the Soviet stores. Second, although they were sold to speculators (who, incidentally, also in the USSR was not a significant part of the society and was quite rare), the price of one album was such that he lost all interest. And who could afford to collect a complete collection of albums of not one, but several Western groups? It’s even on the tapes was difficult. And the question arose: well Pink Floyd and Nazareth, we members of the Komsomol, the party policy although we do not share, but understand the reluctance of marasmatic of the Politburo did not sell in the USSR, the discs of Western artists, which can be unpleasant to the address of the Scoop to soak. But, fuck, herbivores the Beatles where you crossed the road, that even by the early ‘ 80s in the Scoop can be produced and sold their albums? Not some minions (released pirated, by the way), and all the albums of the fab four? All – without exception. What is stopping you?
And the associated question arises. Okay, sometimes miraculously, in the USSR under license out something decent, like the album Uriah Heep “Innocent Victim”. What is there one where ran is unknown. But was released. Let a very small number of copies, though once popped, and is no longer sold, but released. But here’s a question. Why the cover design is monstrous? After all, the covers of rock albums is a part of the whole subculture and mean is not much less important than the tracks themselves.
Not to be unfounded:
On the left the original cover. To the right is what was released on the firm “Melody”. As you are a Soviet design?
The apotheosis of the passion for rock music becomes the moment when you decide to put together your own rock band. And here all. After that, nothing but hatred for the Scoop you have no choice. You can’t buy the normal tools in store are just some creepy Soviet wood, a long time outdated, but price on horse. You can’t buy normal hardware normal camera for music lovers, you can still somehow find sometimes in stores something is on sale, but the normal machine to a rock band you can not buy. Somehow by purchasing at least some Soviet tools (in a lump on the Garden-Kudrinskii), the most pathetic of which is the drum set (it is not the tears), collecting the world on a string some scattered speakers and amplifiers, you’re looking for a place to rehearse. Finding some kind of a basement (from which you would soon blow), you then desperately grasping at any school “disco”, you’re allowed to play in public. Here, though, should thank a bad instrument, because the words are still not heard and teachers do not pay attention to what you eat. But actually in this case there is always a risk to descend to the demands to change the repertoire, if you sing their songs.
So in everything, in everything. And, mind you, I didn’t write anything neither about food nor about the problems of modern fashion clothing. I’m always a little touched. But many wanted to dress “strong at all times,” the Soviet coat Soviet boots “the demolition will not” and into something that is not at all times, but only for the current season as it happens in the fashion world.
But living in an alternate USSR none of this, of course did not notice. They either because of their extremely poor development were content with the miserable little thing that gave them a Scoop, or had found the final Scoop, which on the one hand due to the Restructuring it became a little better (well, in the late ‘ 80s so much of a problem to buy more or less camera or a guitar was visible), and, in addition, ended even before they experienced really strong passion for anything at full strength to do not be able due to Scoop.
And here they are today clapping their Gubenko, in all seriousness saying that only those for whom happiness is measured by the number of clothes, lived in the USSR hard. Because these shovels motherfuckers, as I said, really in the Scoop was not engaged in any business. Nothing at all. And all that they have comes to memory, it faded with the posters gorillapods working with mantras about the building of communism, and shows the type of “Club kinoputeshestvennikov”. Spiritually poor – that’s who these current scoops. But their spiritual poverty, they mask the concern about the great accomplishments that someone allegedly traded on “rags and all sorts of trinkets”. And they themselves, meanwhile, a finger does not hit to protect its such a wonderful alternative of the Soviet Union, in which they and their pathetic queries lived as calmly, happily and easily – easier than anyone. Easy life was then. And now – it is hard, Yes. How not to sympathize with the poor people? Not to mention the fact – and this is most terrible for them – around a lot of people who today live not just better, but significantly better than they are. And this they most like a knife in the back.
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