I am glad to be deceived myself

How poisoning poisoning of melancholy and carelessness penetrates into the blood

Living has become worse, comrades, life has become more dreary ... It was the famous phrase of Stalin’s famous phrase “Living better, comrades, life has become more fun”. November 1935, a meeting of workers and workers-Stakhanovites. From world classics, like "millennia, they look at you from the height of the pyramids." “And when it is cheerful, the work is arguing,” he continued the song, “hence the high standards of production.” Well, after him, we are dullly bringing our reality in line: work wings, low production. That is, someone may be in their hands, but according to statistical reports it is not noticeable so that. Especially in the expression of persons.

Life is more and more like old age. When I do not want to wake up, but when I woke up, I don’t want to get out of bed. When the day is ahead, and there is nothing to take it. In fact, it is: our era began in 1917, in the 90s there was a short interruption, hopes for a change, but drowned in confusion. Time was cautious, stiffened, turned into a monument to itself, its Sovietness, into a museum artifact, into a gaming apparatus that is lining up for a ten -ruble coin "Get a huge country." Without two years. At the current speed of political, cultural, even civilizational shifts - an unbearable deck. Dimensionless cobblestone from the famous sculpture of the sculptor Shadra "Weapons of the proletariat." From the days when, according to the unspoken agreement, the word "proletariat" meant something-bloody, abstract and almost exquisite.

This is not a conviction, not the search for guilty, this is a statement of fact. Of course, in the fact that it happened, there is someone’s fault, villainy, brainlessness, but not in the first place. First of all, life is arranged in this way, at least with us. She, as you know, goes in stripes, now curses, tomorrow, awards. Why one causes approval, and the other discontent, or even indignation, is difficult to logic. Explanations of support or rejection of the course prescribed by the authorities are multi -result, to the same extent, the weights are equally unconvincing. I am inclined to the fact that our private choice in most cases is determined by the desire to be deceived or not to be deceived. The arguments, as if part of the population (as a rule, would be about it) - cattle, and the other is the maintenance of the State Department, is equally repulsive to me. 86% of the faithful to the government and 14% of its critics are out of every seven six for, one against. This is the composition of the usual section of the reserved seat car. I can understand this alone without straining, but these six are not strangers to me. Their personal fate is predetermined: lucky-you will someday in a compartment, but never soft; Unlucky (which is many times more likely) - thank the cashier and the conductor that let them go to the luggage shelf. In this scenario, doesn’t it play a zealous from the idea that the country has survived 11 thousand kilometers, that its nuclear potential is one of the first two in the world, that its hockey players are not every year, but once every three or four champions of the world, and you are a citizen.

Do not interpret such that he lives worse than a citizen of the country not extended, not nuclear, not champion. As a particle of millions inhabiting the country, he is more grandiose a German-razeman, Yankee-rag. Do not tell him that propaganda makes him a fool. He can carry nonsense, but his head is not foolish. Do not convince that he will be deceived. He wants to be so deceived. A rare person did not want to be deceived at some minute. Beloved, their own children, parents, friends, colleagues - wanted to hear that they love him, prefer him to others. Or do you think that he, who has grieved on the luggage shelf, will better find out that no one needs him and is insignificant? No, Pushkin is kind: “Ah, it’s not difficult to deceive me! I myself am glad to be deceived. "

The authorities, which were literally felt by the “method of poking and naval”, how to manage the millions of particles that have taken it up, developing a simple, indestructible system of levers of influence and enthusiastically accepted by this mass, is Soviet. Inspired because she touch another self -deception, the main thing - the desire, if not every particle, then six out of every seven: no one lives better than another. But even on such, or rather just such, power is an objective, irresistible public law for it: in order to hold the system in some kind of balance, it needs to fight. The most willing with the Brownian movement of particles. However, the war, like a volcanic lava, has its own will, it is unpredictable and throws those whom its stream pulled into the zone of uncontrollable elements. Any war is hybrid, that is otrotnaya.

I was five when the war with Hitler began, nine - when it ended. The age is already rational, but what does the boy really understand? Proceeding, freezing, poverty - these are not processes, not waves that cover parents with their heads. Children have no experience for comparison. Now it is clear how much harder in those days than today. As the then poet said: “We’ll get worse, we’ll fall asleep - war, war ... whatever think about - war, war. Our companion is gloomy - she is alone. ” But it is contrary to this unbearable of its constant presence - the hope that it will end. With high chances - a victory. And unconditionally - in the foreseeable time.

A year and a half ago, I identified fluids in military childhood in the air. This from them penetrated the blood of poisoning, confusion, and anxiety. However, there was a difference with those 70 years ago: when people live badly, even a war can change the situation for the better, but here is exactly the opposite: people lived, not to say-good, but decent, but they began to live worse. This is the effect of Sovietness. Do I remember something pretty about her? Yes: for example, the gnashing reproductors of the radio were incomparably miraculous than the current TV. They are not pushed from the screen by electronic dummies of human figures in the crowd as they like them. They gave out the music conditionally, approximately, but the music in its pure form, without instruments, without orchestras. Speech is mechanical, as if not from the mouths and lungs, which was, which seemed to be unmistakable by ear. But these are the memories of the same nature that children's dreams pulled out of party-state reality. It makes no sense to describe this reality, it is around and inside us.