Go to the USSR

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Twenty years ago, on October 3, tanks were introduced into Moscow. A few days after that, our fellow citizens were killed in the capital for the fact that they were not liberal enough, not as they had to understand democracy and so on. Among the dead were people of various beliefs, those who were far from any ideology prevailed. They were just offended by the country, which some freaks turned into a huge garbage dump with completely totalitarian methods. They did not want back to the USSR, they wanted ahead to the Soviet Union, cleared of all sorts of nonsense, accumulated slag.

We have been lying for many years, talking about what the Union was not, and hiding what it was. Here is an example. Everyone remembers the legendary phrase: "In the USSR - there is no sex." Only the lazy did not laugh at her, giving out a woman who uttered her for a fool, a hypocrite, and so on. At the same time, they carefully avoided the fact that to bring her words completely: "In the USSR - there is no sex. There is love." I must say that there was no sex until 1929 and in America, until it was first used in the sense of "copulation". I agree, however, that we were 60 years behind. Deeded in decay. I found on the network. The author is not known to me:

Do not lie that a fallen country
There was a monastery of evil and falsehood.
I remember these times
I remember everything as it was before.

There was no wolf there,
There, people believed each other
And instead: "weak interpretation"
They always held out a hand.

There, sex did not climb forward,
There was just a brotherhood,
And did not teach on TV
Perceptible ********.

There is a thief, a bandit, a scoundrel and a scum
Afraid of a strong law,
And I did not come up
Themis is in slavery at Mamon.

I remember these times
I remember everything, and I will not forget.
Do not lie that a fallen country
There was a monastery of evil ... Judas.

What is the USSR for me? It is definitely not the result of two or three revolutions, the collapse of Russia, the Civil War, which lasted several decades. One part of the people was then set to the other, and the blood of brothers and sisters poured, like water.

My Soviet Union, the one that I love, is a good fruit, the fruit of the struggle for its homeland, which has again made our people one, the fruit of victory and a great dream to create a world where there is no place for meanness.

He died not at all because of the machinations of enemies. We simply bleed him, and it began long before the 91st. When we allowed everyone who was not too lazy to have abortion, again allowed priests to drive and blow up temples, when they gradually cooled and fell into cunning, forgetting the lessons of war.

But not all. Recently I saw the icon of the Holy Matrona of Moscow in the house of my late second cousin - Vovka (Oganes) Grigoryan. He was named Oganes in honor of my late grandfather, and I was in honor of Vovka - it was his Russian name (the Armenians so often happen, one Russian name, the other Armenian).

He was born, like me, in Altai, where our family was sent in the 47th, cleansing Georgia of undesirable elements (Armenians and Greeks). Then, halfway home, his family settled along Rostov, in the area where Catherine the Great once sent Armenians from Crimea (I do not remember where the Greeks sent it).

I remember him very young, the same age as my daughter. It was in the mid-70s. On the stage of the collective farm club, they and the guys sang under electric guitars:

Horses can swim.
But - not good. Near.

“Gloria” in Russian means “glory” -
You will remember this easily.

The ship was walking, proud of his name,
The ocean tried to overcome.

In the hold, with good muzzles,
A thousand horses stomped day and night.

This is one of the happiest memories of my Soviet childhood.

Then Vovka served in the army, graduated from the institute, became the chief agronomist of a large collective farm, and remained for him after the 91st. He worked in the field until the last day, while holding on his feet. There was nothing boss in it. Suffering with cancer of the stomach in the third stage, he continued to carry bags to help people. So, believing in God, Vovka did not part with his Soviet party party, remained a communist until his death that came several years ago. And when I hear the "communist", I remember the good, cheerful face of my brother. If there were few people like it, we would not have lost our country again. If there were few more people like my grandfather - Oganes, who died in the 43rd. He was also a communist.

In almost every phenomenon there is a bright side (I repeat, almost. I don’t see anything bright, say, in Nazism or North Korean "socialism"), into which people put their hearts. Sometimes they win in spite of everything. Vovka definitely won, plunged into death, like a “Varangian” cruiser, who did not give up, who did not change his dream.

Recently, one poem by Oleg Vorobyov caught my eye. I don't like everything in him, but hooked.

Do not escape from yourself: millions of invisible Uz
They will not allow us to forget our childhood, even those who are ..
Today I guys dreamed of the Soviet Union,
And it seems to me that we were too quickly said goodbye to the era.

Let the "box" lie that the pores did not exist,
That the cornices were breaking from the signs of the Masonic ones -
I'm about the fact that in our yard there were many friends,
And that we went to visit our neighbors without a visa.

Someone built and lived, someone stupidly looked at the fence,
Someone grew quietly, stuffing the mattress with a currency,
But from the distance of the overseas, everyone heard the angelic choir,
Although they explained to us that it was sung by fagots.

We don’t want to leave - we just went out into the yard,
And she led into the darkness, the curve ran.
I don't know when the traitor and thief appeared -
It was evident among us, but until time I stole a little

And having left alone, he soaked in the window with a candle -
And while we fought, obsessed with our own bzyks,
The enemy entered the enjoy, pouring the shrines with urine,
And he sat down on the throne, smashing in impotal lords.

Loking Kingsians "chosen by the world Em",
Having wound gigabytes porn for meters of advertising,
We returned to ourselves, only not to everyone ...
We have stolen the country - I'm sorry, mom!

Are we really giving up the eyes, let's go by
Smell - tolerant sheep and more shy than a hare?
Maybe at least finally shake the antiquity,
In a tense struggle, tearing the eggs to the enemy?

Did not sob the hitherto, maybe we’ll even even have to do it, -
Due to smaller insults, wars sometimes begin.
Who dared to live is not afraid to die in battle,
The ballistic path to the enemy, enduring calmly.

Let the neocon scream in the Congress Chamber,
Let the "defenders of law" come in hysteria, bitches,
But while the missiles are written "to Washington",
"Partners in NATO" are still short hands.

Ukraine, rebel! Novorossia, don't work anymore!
Returning home, shake your dusty feet.
Ukraine, understand - you are a sacred ancient Rus',
And not ******** creatures that stole the name of Europe.

And when the democrats of sodom, caliphs for an hour
They scold us heartily: "Stand up with cancer - live like people!"
I'm funny because I remember how it was with us
And I want to believe, it will definitely be!

Ships will go to the ocean from distant berths,
In distant orbits, the planids will continue the movement ...
Yes, the book ended, but in the memory of our land
The history of the world still has a continuation -

There will be a wind in the foliage, laughter of noon and midnight, in the house,
The sin and bitter of the repentance of the bowl will be sweet -
It will be as always. It will be as it should be for those
For whom is this a house, and not just a "moronic rash".

Life will show - whether we are holding through the brotherhood of centenary wine,
Finally understanding which side we play on which side
Or, nevertheless, the imperial union, you will remain a dream,
Converted in the past - a bright lost paradise,

If we, dissolved as salt in worldwide rumor,
Now - miserable toleys and victims of treacherous intrigues,
Will not get the strength in his hands or brains in his head,
Neither enthusiasm in the groin to create something grandiose

I see the future of Russia in taking all the best from the Russian Empire and the Soviet Union, and there was so much better in them that there should be enough for the construction of something real. I'm not talking about external greatness that makes you puff out my cheeks, but at the same time it is empty in the chest. I'm talking about the present. They can tell me: "Dreamer." Well, yes. Only without a dream, everything else is not needed for nothing.

PS: I once met the decryption of the word "scoop":

Conscience.

Courage.

Loyalty.

Education.

Culture.

Yes, perhaps. Somewhere like that.