Grab the President's Pants

The Saga of the Tragic Mismatches of Russian Politics

The Saga of the Tragic Mismatches of Russian Politics

Sergei Zheleznyak is a bright diamond in the crown of the State Duma. The collection of his initiatives is a pure bestseller. Recently, the vice-speaker proposed to legislate the priority of Russian goods and services for officials and dumaks. Shining with an expensive European suit and Western fashionable unshaven, he tries to convey to the correspondent the idea of ​​how dear everything domestic is to him.

On the thorny path of defending the homeland, an incident happened to Zheleznyak. In a conversation with Roman Super, he said that he himself goes to the domestic. A first-rate REN TV reporter immediately discovered the forgery: "You are not wearing Russian clothes now." From the interviewer’s cunning, Zheleznyak sweated, blinked, babbled something indistinct, like “our jersey is very worthy” - and fell silent. A counterproposal to Roman was ripening in the vice-speaker's body: "Let's shoot tomorrow, and I'll be in a Russian costume." The relentless Super ignored this wonderful opportunity and turned the conversation to the movies.

The sovereign feelings of Zheleznyak, crushed by Moskvoshvey, again rushed up: "We will propose norms under which twenty percent of the rental should belong to domestic films." The correspondent, tired of knitwear, noticeably perked up: “What was the last Russian film you watched?” The treacherous hand of the stopwatch displayed on the screen was already rushing to the minute, and Zheleznyak kept wandering in search of the beautiful: “I don’t remember the name. That was Govorukhin's film, associated with such a concept as love. Roman Super, unlike the Duma art critic, not only remembered the name "In the Style of Jazz", but also the year of issue. It turned out that the last artistic and patriotic shock of Zheleznyak was three years old.

The nature of this phenomenon was helped to realize the new project "Voice". The singing competition is a model of society in miniature. The selection of contestants was carried out blindly. The jury only hears them, but does not see them. The first results were impressive with impeccable quality, which evaporated in the process of "seeing the light" of the masters. When Sevara, a singer of unique talent, was not allowed to the finals, it became clear: the virus of ugliness spreads to any election. We have such a climate and such a mentality - we live in a country of eternal tragic mismatches. Sevara has a voice, passion, almost animal organics; Valeria has Prigozhin and the Kremlin Palace of Congresses. Genuine talents in one place; success, money, ranks, titles - in another, and together they do not come together. Negative selection is becoming more and more negative in all spheres of life.

Sad reflections were replaced by curiosity. I decided to find out where those people of power, whom we are doomed to see on television, came from? I started with Zheleznyak. He graduated from the Higher Naval Political School (it turns out that there is such a thing). He was the political officer of a company in the training detachment of the Navy, then went over to advertising. And from there it's a stone's throw to the Duma, where the skills of a company political officer who knows the secrets of advertising can hardly be overestimated. While I was studying Zheleznyak's biography, Elena Skrynnik appeared in the box again. I have already heard about her addiction to Birkin bags, about a villa in France, about her young husband, the ex-soloist of the Revolvers boy pop group. But no one knew that she graduated from medical school. She worked as a cardiologist, but suddenly she became interested in leasing technologies, which dramatic passion led the inquisitive lady to agriculture. Her friend or foe, Viktor Zubkov (testimony fluctuates), on the contrary, went to study at the Agricultural Institute, although he worked as a repairman. Later, perestroika winds blew him into the deputy chairman of the Committee for External Relations of the St. Petersburg Mayor's Office. Since Vladimir Vladimirovich was the chairman of this committee, Zubkov, unexpectedly for himself and everyone else, becomes the prime minister of a great power in Putin's second term.

And here is the main character of the feverish fight against corruption - Vladimir Markin, Major General of Justice, mouth of the Investigative Committee. His honest open face is now with us every evening. But it wasn't always like that. Previously, he, a graduate of Moscow State University, worked on radio and TV, including NTV news broadcasting. But suddenly a mysterious line appears in his track record: “From 2006 to 2009, he studied according to an individual plan at the Institute of Economics and Culture (there is, it turns out, there is one) with a degree in jurisprudence.” Then there was some kind of bad story about the recognition of his diploma as invalid, but quickly dissipated.

In their careers, some kind of magical foundation or committee magically appears, which dramatically changes fate. However, there are exceptions like Dmitry Peskov. His work and days flowed smoothly, harmoniously, as befits a professional diplomat, the son of a diplomat. Peskov is characterized by sophistication of interpretations and assessments. The best of them are marked by poetic expression: "For a wounded riot policeman, you need to smear the liver of the protesters on the asphalt." The President's press secretary has one problem - he does not always feel the shades of his native language so subtly, as in the case of the "liver of protesters."

From the last: preparing for the meeting of the president with proxies, Peskov spoke about the need for "constructive criticism." I literally shuddered - from which cellars of memory, from which agitprop adit did he pull out the term meaning the struggle between good and excellent? Why am I there, the confidants themselves did not like the wording. Mikhail Boyarsky directly said on the sidelines: "There will be no criticism, even if they begin to squeeze it out of us." This meeting is about something completely different: 500 people came to ask the father of the nation for something of their own.

Even Gogol could not have come up with a better final scene. The father is standing on the stage. Below, confidants are raging, wanting to break through to him here and now. The guards have already closed ranks, already Putin himself, in the voice of Kashpirovsky, says: “Nikita Sergeevich, you will come to tea with me and tell me everything,” but passions do not subside.

Mikhalkov breaks into the front row, another second, and he will grab the president by the trousers ... Alas, it did not happen. Another tragic discrepancy in Russian history.