For Russian cheese

In the late Soviet years, of all the cash symbols of commodity well -being (or dysfunction), of course, sausage was in the first place. Its metaphysical power, provided not only by the boundless consumer democratism, but also the obvious seduction of near -fraudian associations, the power that fruitfully inspired several generations of poets and philosophers, fascinated by this mythopomitative phenomenon, significantly overshadowed all the others. Such, for example, as a "carpet", which, by the way, was also not a bast. Not to mention other foods. Including cheese.

No, the cheese is not only lagging behind in this amazing competition. He simply did not participate in him. He played some separate, not always noticeable, but important role. Why is it incomprehensible. But he played it and continues to play - this is a fact.

Not the most popular product in Russia! We are not France after all! And even not France at all! But the semiotic halo surrounding it for some reason is important to extraordinary. What is the matter? And God knows him!

By the way, about God. Is it not from there whether Krylov stretches from his grandfather, not at all exhaled, but only enriched with all the new aromas, this fragrant (more on that later) train?

Remember, who sent a piece of cheese to Vorone? That's the same. But each of us lives with this plot since he has learned to distinguish words. Is it not from there vague ideas about his cheese, miraculous origin?

No, the cheese is not simple. He is more in Russia than cheese. It is not only an object of material culture, but also as unclear as the distinct symbol and harbinger of various and for the time being elusive from the definitions of socio-cultural processes.

In the mid-90s, I lived in Berlin for some time. Once I met there with a familiar German journalist, who often went to Moscow on duty, and sometimes I was there for a long time. At that time, she just came from there. "Tell me what we have there?" I asked her.

“Well, in every way,” she said. “But it is a little worried that nervous products began to disappear from the stores slowly.” - "What does" nervous products mean? " -" Well, those that signal the advancing dysfunction. Including political. " -" What are these products? " -" Well, cheese, for example! "

Wow! After all, the truth! And I never thought about it before.

Then, however, the cheese quickly returned. And a little later, the monolithic word “cheese” gained multiplicity: in everyday speech there was a quiet but important revolution, as a result of which society mastered the word “cheeses”, thus dominating a long -standing, Soviet times, anxious the myth of three hundred varieties of cheese in any European store.

In general, cheeses appeared.

And before that, the word "cheeses" (as well as "Syrykhi") for decades meant fans and fans who went to their favorite artists. “Cheeses”, as I found out later, they were called because the famous “cheese” store was on Tverskaya (and I remember this well) for many years. And there they had a meeting place. There they ran to warm up in a winter cold. This term, they say, dates back in the 50s, to the times of the glory of the singer Lemeshev, who seemed to live nearby.

"Cheeses" were people. The store was "cheese".

Cheese, as I already said at the beginning, was not too consumed by the product. Sometimes it seemed like a product rather ritual. From childhood, I remember how no festive table could do without a plate of finely cut cheese. And also I well remember that it was this plate, as a rule, that remained untouched. After that, she went to the refrigerator, where the sad slices of cheese were dry for long from longing and loneliness.

But the lack of cheese always caused something close to eschatological despondency in people. For example, in Ilf's notebooks there is such a touching record:

"No God!" "Is there any cheese?" - the teacher asked sadly. "

Have you noticed that most of the jokes and jokes on the topic of antisanctions and other import substitutions are mainly associated with cheeses? It is more and more about Parmesan and about Kamamber, under which he embarrassed is confused, trying to draw attention to himself, some restless Hamon.

So the author of these lines, when he read the other day a message that the forbidden products would be destroyed directly on the border , immediately an unpretentious poem was formed by himself, rephrazing the well -known pre -war song:

*Over the customs is cloudy and gray,

The fogs lay wide.

Camamberes decided that night

Cross the border by the river.

And went to the pigs Kamamber.

To destroy us at one moment.

"Nothing, we will accept countermeasures" -

The president said, gritting his teeth.*

However, jokes and jokes associated with the "cheese" theme were before. "Cheese", although not in the main roles, firmly settled in urban folklore. Here we can recall that “free cheese happens only in the mousetrap”, and about some, sometimes quite idiotic, semi -children's jokes like this: “Hello, you finally got a job?” “Yeah, got a job.“ And where is it? ”“ What are you doing there? ” - instead of cheese, I stink.”

If the sausage myth, due to the peculiarities of its appearance, refers us to the material-bodily bottom and other Bakhtinsky carnival, then the physical properties of cheese as the smell, that is, the spirit, exalt it over the Probish world and settle in the “mountain sprinkled limit” (Tyutchev).

Is there a solution?

Yes, the cheese is spiritual product, this must be admitted. And the point is not only in the way that he went to the Krylovsky Vorona. The point is that he literally spreads the spirit.

The pedant, of course, will object that it is not “spiritual”, but rather “spiritual”. But, as life shows, these single -rooted ones, but still different in meaning in the minds of some prominent thinkers of our time are not different in meaning. And they know better.

Here is, for example, such a biker surgeon. It is widely known not only with noisy form and exotic manifestations of its thunder -booming patriotism, patriotism without end and without a edge, without fear, reproach, mind, honor and conscience. Recently, he has acquired a reputation as an unsurpassed gold. By this, he stands out from his midst, where, frankly, you will not notice special Cicerons.

So, it was he who spoke out not so long ago that he considers “all honest, spiritual people” (sic, as stated in such cases).

What can I say besides the fact that in this particular case, the eloquent biker hit the very point. That with this thesis, at least in that part, where about "spirituality", you can’t argue.

An exceptional, I think, a sense of the word in a motorcyclist. And I say this almost seriously, because all that they are used to calling spirituality there is this very is.

And here they become somehow especially understandable internal, not recognized for the time being, the springs of the patriotic raw vehicle. We will not allow NATO cheeses to smell in our open spaces! We have our own spirituality, that is, spirituality, that is, that is ... well, in general, it is clear.

But how to finish so positive? Well, for example, we can finally say that all the same, after all, the spirit blows where it wants. So we will say.