Folk unity

The “Day of National Unity”, which was invented in our country on November 4 in order to honor the Kazan Mother of God and the Civil feat of Minin with Pozharsky, and - to the heap - the friendship of peoples (and most importantly, get rid of the need for the whole world along with the Communists to celebrate the anniversary of the revolution), can be rightfully called the professional nightmare of journalists and policemen.

Well, judge for yourself, to whom is hunting in the November cold and piercing the wind from morning to evening to stick out on the street? The police are even worse than the press. Journalists, they at least run from place to place, and unfortunate law enforcement officers stand in a stiggle, shift from foot to foot - it hurts to look. The press and the police do not so often experience sympathy for each other. So our new holiday is at least something, but useful.

One way or another, “popular unity” is manifested in processions and demonstrations. Everyone goes to the streets: fascists, nationalists, Putinists, Orthodox patriots and democrats. And each group is one inside itself, hating everyone else.

November 4, 2007-according to the tradition that has already developed over the three years of the existence of the holiday, the “festivities” were discovered by the Nazis, skinheads, football fans and other sympathetic citizens. Only about three thousand people. The “PNI” was supreme - a movement against illegal migration.

Having formed the column, the demonstrators cheerfully defiled along the embankment of Taras Shevchenko to the square in front of the Ukrainian hotel. On the road - except for the glory of Russia, obsessed on the teeth! " -The clockwork chants shouted: “Suitcase-Caucasus-Caucasus!”, “We will build a new paradise, Zig Hale, Zig Hail!”, “Russia for Russians, Moscow for Muscovites! Come on, come on, uy ... from here! ”, And something else in the same spirit. They shouted with special enthusiasm, passing under the bridges: there is the acoustics-oh-th! And in a beat raised in the Nazi salute. A rally was deployed at the Ukraine hotel. The speakers broadcast something. The rest from time to time were taken to chant. When the main “stump” appeared, Belov, they shouted amicably: “Death to the Jews!”. In response, the delighted Belov immediately pointed to the White House building on the other side of the river and called it a “Torah Sweet”. And to his rhetorical question, where to send the upcoming parliamentary elections, the protesters joyfully answered: “In the ass!” The police trembling from the cold did not stop all this, apparently deciding that, of course, obscene abuse and fascist slogans are prohibited from us, but they don’t beat anyone, and thank God ...

In the middle of the day, “Zhirinovites” celebrated on Pushkinskaya “People’s Unity”, and “Yabloko” along with the “Kasparovites” on Bolotnaya Square. Both there and there, they vowed with adherence to internationalism and hinted that if they were supported in the elections, then they would not let this internationalism dry.

But “ours” carried out a action of a completely creative properties - boys and girls sewed multi -colored blankets and shawls “into the largest blanket in the world” under the walls of our vast homeland on Vasilyevsky descent. Which, apparently, was supposed to symbolize the largest “friendship of peoples” in the world. This was done to the deafening pop music and screeching of two masses-stones-respectively, male and female, in the best pioneering traditions-“Well, guys! Let's! Russia! Glory to Russia! Well, guys, you are not heard! Let everyone hear you! Glory to Russia! ” But the “guys” were either tired, or were not enthusiastic about the whole venture and preferred to remain silent.

Standing at police barriers, I watched what was happening from afar. The organizers forbade the police to allow anyone from the "strangers", even the press before the event. The delayed “ourselves” and “coordinated media workers” took place on special personalized invitations. Waving the press card and quoting the law on the press did not help at all. The police sympathetically nodded their heads and insisted that they could not do anything. Meanwhile, two young “vestigator blankets” arrived to the barrier, cighed together and began to water the “leadership” in an undertone in an undertone, which promised them a “cultural program in Moscow”, and instead locked them up the whole day “behind a fence on a dumb frost”. Well, it turns out that not only the police officers, but also the “nurses” can sometimes sincerely sympathize with ...

And suddenly a huge dark snake appeared in the distance. This snake - or rather, the incomprehensible origin of the column - slowly crawled along the Big Muscovite bridge, draining the Vasilyevsky descent. Its end was not visible. What is there! It seemed to her, in principle, there was no end! Really reinforcing came to the "ours"? But no, the head of the column resolutely moved past the “largest blanket in the world” and reached for the fences. The police busily pushed the iron fences, and the column - five people to the line - organizedly moved out. These were very young guys who seem to be no different from the "ours." And there were a great many of them, thousands. They kept the system well and from time to time shouted together: “Glory to Russia!” A bridge was trembling from a cry of a scream ...

About ten minutes, as in a trance, I watched how they follow. Finally, she shook and fit into the column, settling next to some guy and jerking his sleeve: “Sorry, please, and your campaign and those that are sewn together a lot of blankets, is this the same thing? Or are you talking about something else? " The boy thought, “drowned” - “Well ... this ... we, then ...” and, finally, exhaled: “Look, you see the girl in front, her name is Marina. She knows everything, and she will answer you everything. ” I caught up with Marina-tall, in a bright jacket, in heels-and, having demonstrated the press card, turned to her with the same question. Marina looked at me appraisingly, it seemed not impressed, but she settled in the explanation: “Those with blankets are“ ours ”. And we are the “Young Guard”. So that you understand the difference, the “young guard”, it depends on the “United Russia”. Well, that is, "United Russia" supports us. " I nodded with knowledge: "Yes, of course, what is your event?" - "We go to the arena, and there will be a rally for us, and then a concert ..." - "And for what reason?" - “Well, like a holiday. Do you, you don’t understand, Minin and Pozharsky, the friendship of peoples ... ” -“ So will you rally in honor of Minin or for friendship? ” I asked. "Well, for friendship ... and in honor too ... it's just our holiday and that's it!" - Marina was offended and rushed forward.

There were about ten thousand people in the Young Guard column. And one more, one less - what difference does it make. Hiding in such a crowd is not a focus. And without the slightest difficulties, I penetrated into the manezhnaya area that was cordoned and vigilantly protected from strangers. And there the "young guard", indeed, was waiting for the holiday. Real!

The estrus erected on the occasion of the solemn date of the solemn date. The flags of beginner "United Russia" rose everywhere. On the asphalt lay red, white and blue clusters of balloons. The guys who entered the "arena" rushed to the balls, unimported how much as possible, pierced them with pins. The air was filled with sharp cotton and an enthusiastic squeal. Girls took out the powders, made up their lips and rushed to two -dimensional, into human height of Putin's figures from colored cardboard. They hugged the figure of the president, took intimate poses, captured a delicate kiss on the painted cheek. Guys with a cheerful gogot took their friends onto the photophone, perpetuated the moment. Older guys rushed around the square with Matyugals: “Well, Tula! Well, Eagle! Completely! Show what you are capable of! " "Glory to Russia!" - activists responded, - "Glory to Russia!" From somewhere, girls with paint and brush appeared and painted Russian tricolor on the faces of his comrades. Through the speakers they allowed: “And in the clean field the Grad system! / Behind us Putin and Stalingrad! ” The disco began ... One folk "anthem" was replaced by another:

My boyfriend is stuck into bad things again
Flapped, swallowed some kind of muti
He took me out so and I drove him off
And I want now such as Putin

Such as Putin full
Such as Putin so that he does not drink
Such as Putin so that he does not offend
Such as Putin so that he does not run away

A military orchestra played for them, for them the opera “Life for the Tsar” sounded, for them they twitched on the stage of pop stars. And hundreds of people were poured to the barriers - the same guys like them - who were not called on this holiday. And these simple, worthless people are forced to stomp on the sidelines, on the backyards of real life. Which, however, is right. After all, the owners are "young heads." And only they can be in the center of the holiday. Those who received proper privileges. I received it in fairness! After all, they are with the president. They are - the future of Russia.

The "Day of National Unity" ended with another march along the embankment of Taras Shevchenko. And again, as in the morning, nationalists walked. The end of the holiday is quite appropriate. An ideal ring composition.

The “People’s Union” of Baburin, uniting with a handful of Orthodox and tireless “skins”, solemnly wandered along a dark river with icons at the ready. Literally a man gathered, no more. Near the Ukraine hotel they stood up, shook off from snow and sang for warming up: “The People’s Union, the People’s Union,/ People’s Union is power!/ The People’s Union, the People’s Union,/ Honor and Glory of Russia!”

Journalists yawned. The police yawned. The soldiers tortured worshiped worshiped ... The city authorities, having overestimated the charisma and the popularity of Baburin, caught up with a great many. As it turned out, in vain. Fighters for the purity of the Russian race overlined, freezed for an endless cold day and scattered home. The tired press was bored that Baburin promised the city and the world a “torch marriage”, but there are no torches at all, only one miserable lamp on the pole ... And you would have known in advance, would not have to freeze the extra two hours. Moreover, in the evening, on the embankment, blown from all sides ... Baburin broadcast something from the rostrum, someone again raised his hand in the fascist salute and, with the usual movement, attaching a comfortable camera and a focus, I suddenly caught myself thinking that after the “Young Guard” domestic national radicals looked somehow harmless, almost touching. In the end, in a comparative attitude there are so few of them, and they are not the owners of life.

Folk unity

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