open my eyes and I will see the wonders of your law i. in the life before last I was a Russian princess. I carried a weight on my head and slept on the stove, where there were bugs, my first confessors. I had a rose garden where my buttocks were lashed up to sixteen for bad grades in arithmetic, and the thorny bushes swayed from side to side. in the past I was shot by employees of the investigative department of the State Security Committee of the USSR.

My opponents, comfortably ensconced in the chairs of modern antinatalism, like to quote Sophocles: “ The greatest good is not to be born at all .” They give us an equation: the amount of suffering minus the amount of pleasure multiplied by the probability of the worst equals the moral right to procreate. In this profane calculation they commit a fatal category mistake. They compare the phenomenal with the noumenal, the existent with the non-existent.

There is a tragic type of thinker, born from the ruins of a great metaphysical catastrophe. This is a man who had the courage to survive the earthquake, but did not have the will to rebuild his house. Georges Bataille is the brightest and most pathetic representative of this tribe. His philosophy is not a daring leap into the unknown, but a symbiosis with ruins, a necrophiliac romance with the remains of the God he supposedly buried.

Understanding Rolling Papers and Their Growing Popularity Rolling papers have been an essential part of smoking culture for many years, offering users a simple and flexible way to prepare their smoking materials. Unlike pre-made cigarettes, rolling papers allow individuals to customize the size, shape, and content of their smoking experience. This flexibility has made them a preferred choice for many users around the world.

I. Disclaimer In the kitchen, a woman is washing dishes; her friend tells her about her husband, who returned from work late and angry yesterday. The woman at the sink nods, turns around, and instead of “let me pour you some tea,” she says, “let me pour you some father.” He freezes with a teapot in his hand... The friend looks, they both laugh. “Lord, what am I talking about?”, pours tea, the conversation moves on. Let's stop here. What happened?

This collection contains the results of my rather chaotic thoughts about art and the people involved in it. All this does not pretend to be any system, much less a theory, these are simply texts written from 2016 to 2026 during my wife and I’s life in Israel and provoked by the meditative nature of the work of a CNC machine operator. Content 1. The older the genre or format 2. Texts about artists and more 3. About the museum 4. Fairy tale 5. Intelligence, talent and shitiness 6.

In times of total democratization of culture, when the act of creativity was relegated to “self-expression”, and the viewer turned into a passive consumer of content, the question of the quality of art has become more acute than ever. We are drowning in an ocean of secondaryness, where the criterion of success is like, box office or virality.

Part I. Lordan Sahrad Sahrad is a manael makhlaki on the mythal. In Russian, a site foreman at a factory. This is one of the professions that leaves an indelible and easily recognizable imprint on a person - I realized this fact back in the days of “going among the people,” when, in my youth, I worked for three or four years at several Leningrad factories.