Self -delery of power: Aristotle Onassis nervously smokes on the deck, and Gini's coefficient breaks

The Russian government with the persistence of rural cinema is arranged by a demonstration, and not too monotonous, political striptease. As if in the “deaths of the gods”, the young Martin von Essenbek, the heir to the steel empire, enters the stage in the ridiculous female outfit, the cylinder and black stockings and arranges a masquerade of the degeneration of the whole clan, which was considered aristocratic and skillfully adapting to any external circumstances.

Either the power itself will “undress” and present to the world a box of shoes with dollars, then he will freely or involuntarily compare its interiors with the tastes of Shakro young-neobandit baroque (this is not a Stalinist Empire for you). And then he will demonstrate himself in social networks with emoticons and short, like army orders, expressions of the approval of chic, brilliance and beauty.

Not at all understanding that, exposing a small fragment of the flesh of power, they discredit more than one person who, for what reasons - should come out of the “circle of the first” by close people, but present the wrong side and underwear of the entire aristocracy of the past commercial years. And this is no better than the anatomy of the next protest or outright cinema with the opposition.

Separate bad words at the same time as a sensitive, as an institute of Smolny, political regime cannot be denoted otherwise than three points, but the episodes from the private life of oppositionists can be shown on the federal channel. To encode and barricade yourself with fences and checkpoints is simply necessary in the interests of national security, but at the same time you can open the mail of a party of a stranger state and wave it, like other people's panties before the whole world with the help of heroic Julian Assange.

It takes several days, and a fragment of the private life of another representative of the “circle of the first” is opened - screenshots are convincing in their last directness. Whatever the yacht was called-the spirit of the late Aristotle Onassis nervously smokes on the deck: on you, the Greek old man, the mop, work as a sarants and anchovyos of any kind of locusts.

Gini’s coefficient breaks the counter - he does not know such values.

They, upstairs, classify everything there, because their secrets are the strategic secrets of Russia, like chips in warheads instead of uranium. But they betray themselves with their heads about and without reason, arranging endless stripteases. That clock is reflected on the polished surface of the table and immediately disappear - the religion, which has become almost state, in the end, is responsible for miracles in the manner of Gudini or Chudini from Woody Allen. Then their photographs with the obsessive advertising stick out from the last cast -iron iron, and their costumes, dresses, diamonds, again, the clock includes a sharp contradiction with property declarations and tax returns.

And at the same time, helicopters, planes without, forgive the Lord, the transponders, burning, falling, falling, rockets - with the money of much more modest taxpayers who are very busy with “negative adaptation”: yesterday I could buy a washing machine, and today only slippers and sausages are dairy, but nothing, but now we have Crimea, and my uncle is wiped Hands rubbing their hands and urine in our athletes pure, like Beluga, and hackers are the coolest.

And the authorities shows everything and shows itself - again the cycle of all these hours, cufflinks, ties, expensive, as if varnished by the color of honey, women. And all this is nominated not in a falling ruble, but in euros, pounds, Swiss francs and even in a strengthening dollar.

And what about the people, the source of power? Nothing people. It opens every day of the Internet - how it enters the museum. Or in the cinema - only the stake and chips manage to use. Here everything is explained by the quote from Ilf and Petrov about the visitors of the museums: “Eh! People lived! It doesn’t matter to them that the walls are painted by the Frenchman Puvi de Shavann. It is important for them to find out how much it cost the former owner of the mansion. They climb the stairs with marble sculptures on the sites and imagine how many lackeys stood here, how many salary and tips every footman received. Porcelain is on the fireplace, but they, not paying attention to it, decide that the fireplace is an unprofitable thing: there is too much firewood. In the dining room, sheathed with an oak panel, they do not look at a wonderful thread. They are tormented by one thought: what is the former owner-bucket and how much would it cost with the current high cost? ”

Nobody is going to rebel against this beautiful life. On the contrary, the ordinary Russian inhabitant from the postcrymist majority experiences mixed feelings: he is ready to gloat when someone was taken by the tsugunder and disgraced the interior demonstration by the method of demonstrating, but he sincerely respects those who began to live in such interiors and there was still nothing for him. Because this is a Russian dream-to move to a museum with boxes of shoes and friendly to slap the antique statue, delayed in the Airborne Airborne Forces cut under a soldier.

Eh! People lived!

And there is no difference between the "locust of Biryulev" and the inhabitants of the houses around the patriarchal ponds. Because these inhabitants are representatives of the former “locust” who realized the Russian dream. Just one was lucky, but the others not.

And why then wait for protest - social! - Against the dream. The answer to someone else's interior and exterior: deaf grunts, “negative adaptation” and the willingness to sit down again with the coal and chips in front of the screen to watch this endless series of self -distribution of power. Where it is impossible to distinguish between the drainage of competing power structures from a journalistic investigation, the search for compromising evidence from the vanity fair, when the fighting friends of the powers that be out cannot deny themselves the pleasure of showing a new diamond, a Corsican landscape, a swimsuit in the annual income of “Saranchi from Biryulev”.

Unless, of course, she still has paid work without detention.

Photo: Sergey Savostyanov / TASS