Translated material
Lev Pirogov. Ultimate Suicide
Ultimate Suicide
(Actually, “Paper endures”)
Lev Pirogov
Date of publication: September 26, 2000
(Actually, “Paper endures”)
Lev Pirogov
Date of publication: September 26, 2000
Since the moral standard of living has dropped a little more since the last issue of Paper , the review has moved. You can read not in a row, but using the hyperpoke method,
No change on the Kuzminsky front
Internet reviews of "Ex Libris"
Roman Arbitman at the epicenter of the scandal
Shulpyakov reads about a wool sweater
even though it would be disgusting on your part.
A cult favorite among the right people, online writer Yatsutko , the author of the permanent self-praising book “ The Point ” (which I reminded you to read), last week pleased me with two things. Firstly, for some reason with this passage:
" The popular consciousness, which complements Lenin's famous phrase, spoken from an armored car, with an announcement about a disco ("The socialist revolution, the need for which the Bolsheviks spoke for so long, has come true. And now - a disco! "), very correctly senses the rhythmic and semantic incompleteness of the original mythical proclamation. Against this background, the phrase spoken by Colonel Mengistu Haile Mariam immediately after the victory of the Ethiopian revolution looks absolutely magnificent: “I came to power with the support of the workers’ party. Ethiopia will now celebrate May Day! "
(It should only be noted that the phrase about disco in the popular consciousness sounded not from Bronevichka, but from the balcony of the girls’ institute. It seems.)
Secondly, I was pleased with the new definition of the concept “syncretism”, which is important for smart people. Previously, Andrei Bitov held the palm tree for him with his “stunned before the integrity of the world, a person is unable to step on the threshold of consciousness.” Now it rightfully belongs to Yatsutka:
For some reason too. Maybe it’s because the word “little rat” always makes me cry like crazy. Either because Yatsutko suddenly shows remarkable examples of cleanliness. But it still happens. You love some good woman, you want to hug her under the covers. And the bad one at these moments is always like a cat. And so, let’s say, he grabbed her with one hand and grabbed the blanket with the other. Purely by chance, not on purpose. But love is the same in both hands!.. Strange.
Miller said (that's Henry) that the whole world is concentrated in a second of orgasm and that in that second you cannot lie, kill or do shit. He was terribly sweet. However, like any sequel, “ The Second Point ,” from which quotes are taken, disappoints real Yatsutko scholars. Therefore, it is better to start getting acquainted with the iconic Yatsutko from the first “Point” .
Another important event on the Internet is a week of coolness and unstoppable power of ObsErver. Needless to say, he won the competition held by Kuritsyn and Akunin. Dima Chuvmil published a hit called “ One hundred percent action ”, where at the end everyone dies and screams very funny. And Flavor published chapters of the novel “ Rapidly Perched ” (also an action film), about which, in particular, Kirill Kutalov-Postoll sublimely wrote: “ There is no pornography. That is, not a drop at all. At the same time, there is pornography - it floats in the air, and Everything is imbued with it, even the name of the main character ."
Yes. I must say, not without confusion, I observe the metamorphoses taking place with my friend Kirill. Previously, he was a staunch tin soldier , following Foucault, and demanding the same from everyone . Now, as if realizing that everything is bullshit (even the bees), I slid along the path well-worn by Kuritsyn and other talented people. He writes about the tram , about beer , and suddenly he’ll start using the word “ass”... For some reason this worries me.
What else? A renegade and meritocratic hypocrite, my other friend Dima Kuzmin refrained from continuing our discussion with him . I lost my bet, that is. There were no other happy events.
The life of a literary journalist is hard and unsightly. It’s not that there is no money or that the political picture of the world is in the way. And spiritually. Either you want syncretism, then the wings behind your back suddenly get in the way. I bought newspapers in the morning, spent half a day carrying them around like an idiot, and then, let me think, I’ll throw them away. Threw it in the trash. Then I bought it again, brought it home, - bang! - diarrhea combined with a cold. Now I don’t filter the market. And this is a debut tour in RJ, after all.
Maria Zavyalova in the bookplate “Cathedra” writes that depotentiating oneself as a “woman” is an alienation of the gender principle (bad). Continues the seventies discourse (with a “y”) of feminist criticism. It's funny about "why is the shirt sticking out" ? There is reason to remember Mura Benckendorff from the ever-memorable “ Bitch ru ”.
Misha Kotomin reviews the Internet. I wrote about how Shiryanov died , but we ourselves know that, so no finality. But Andryusha Strict (my friend) created something terrible on the topic “ Intellectual trash - the Internet of our time .” Ashes of Kostyrka. No about love, no about philosophy, no about war - just a photo. There is a disgusting word that makes you grab a gun, the word “granny” (money). In general, a paper letter about the Internet turns into something like that meaningless buzz that fashion magazines love to produce. For those who themselves participate in it, it is still not true, and for those who do not participate, such reading only makes their brains sweat.
23.09. 01:18
The temperature is probably fifty degrees. The “interactive” novel by Serge Lukyanenko was presented in “ExLibrise” as the main feature of the issue. Readers send their suggestions after each chapter, and the master indulges them. Internet plus Soviet power. Like putting a million monkeys behind a million typewriters. And then at the end there will definitely be the Word.
The Book Review does not have an electronic version. And good. There is, however, one funny piece of writing there. Saratov critic Arbitman, under the pseudonym “Lev Gursky,” runs a column self-critically called “A Fly Enlarged to the Size of an Elephant.” With a hint of Olya Slavnikova, my cousin. I didn't marry him.
So here it is. Arbitman-Gursky, who himself writes action films, as a joke disavows (and in fact subjects the enemy to slander) my favorite serial writers: Boris Akunin and Max Frei. (And ten other different ones.) What, they say, they are not they, but just blacks of advanced years. But. First of all, shouldn’t I know who is black and who is young and fresh. I’ve already had more than one bottle with Max!.. Secondly, so as not to get a kick out of being mean, I’ll tell you a little instructive nasty thing about Arbitman. Like once while fishing I asked him: “Roma, why aren’t you going to live in Moscow?” And he says:
- Oh well... As long as I'm a provincial attraction, everyone loves me. And when I become one of them, who will need me there? - And he waved his hand meaningfully.
If you want to read this scandalous feuilleton, buy “KO” at the OGI club, which is on Chistye Prudy, in Potapovsky. This is advertising. And the mushroom soup they had last time was not good. But the Shulpyakov readings, which were abundantly announced last week, took place.
Is it successful? O. You should have seen two women, gracefully sliding towards Gleb with a thank you and holding on. And you should have seen how Rubinstein and Bitov listened to him with their mouths open. How Slava Kuritsyn patted himself on the knees. Although Gleb read it, may the ladies forgive me, it doesn’t matter. Excellent poems about the starry sky, which ripples like a woolen sweater. But they must be chanted, in the sense without logical stress, so that the rhythm matches the meter. And Gleb read in the so-called “actor’s style”. He broke a line, paused, changed his voice.
This is a farce, not literature. That’s what I told the outstanding prose writer Ergali Ger when we were lying under the table in another OGI on Pyatnitskaya. And he swung his mug at me. As it should, they say, Gleb read!..
There was supposed to be a final phrase here, but I somehow forgot it.
Sorry.