Posts Tagged ‘Germany’

Putin’s Pariah

Sunday, March 2nd, 2008

Edward Limonov, photo: Donald WeberCorrection Appended

It began inauspiciously. On a frozen afternoon in late November, as Moscow was draped with blocklong plastic billboards, banners and flags, each proclaiming a variation on a single theme — “POBEDA PUTINA — POBEDA ROSSII!” (“A Victory for Putin Is a Victory for Russia”) — a few thousand Russians converged on the city center for a rare act of political theater. It seemed, at first, like a tableau from the last days of the U.S.S.R., those heady months when glasnost swelled the streets with protesters. A handful of dissidents stood on a flatbed truck; a jumble of loudspeakers were stacked below; the crew of foreign reporters vastly outnumbered the local press; and across the way, the secret policemen with their unseen amplifiers were drowning the protest in canned laughter and Soviet waltzes. (more…)

It’s Me, Daddy: Limonov On Fatherhood

Friday, February 23rd, 2007

On the great day of Russian Great Revolution I have driven my pregnant wife to the First Birth-House of Moscow. House is located on very North-West of our beloved capital between metro station Planernoye and Alioshkinski forest. We decided that our son will be born near Alioshkinski forest on the street called Vilis Lacis Street not because we are attracted by forest or Vilis Lacis. I even don’t know who the hell is Valis Lacis. Is he famous Tchekist, friend of Felix Djerjinski? Not it seems to me that Velis was a Latwian writer, I suppose so, because near Lacis Street on the map one can see also Yanis Rainis Street and Salomea Neris Street. Yanis, I remember well, was a Latwian writer, so that the place is swarming with dead Latwians. I mean place where my son was born. Because Katia’s doctor recommended First House.

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Germany, my Germany

Friday, April 22nd, 2005

Butirskaia prison in Russia

I started this text on April 19th, having in mind to write about Germany. That fucking Germany I heard about from the tender age about 2,5 or three years old. That fucking country of Goethe, Schiller, Vagner and Hitler.

Then my telephone ringed. National-Bolshevik M. have called from Butirskaia prison. He said that hunger strike that have started yesterday lunched at first by seven National-Bolsheviks at Butirka; was under menace. That special militia forces: OMON, operating in prisons, have arrived at Butirskaia prison and have applied pressure on the heads of prison’s criminal underworld. Those guys in their turn are pressing National-Bolsheviks in order to force them to stop hunger strike. Jesus! That is last thing what we been in need, thought I. Goodbye Germany, anyway. I wanted to say that I am not forgiving them for killing my relatives and devastating my country. But for now they should wait, Germans.

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