Politics is a dirty business.

Politics is more dangerous than HIV, Cancer, more dangerous than any most awful Ebola in the world. It strikes not just the body, it strikes the soul and deprives all of humanity, is man to obtain a fraction of power as white and fluffy citizen, he turns into a monster ready to eat anyone who gets in the way, literally and figuratively…


We sit in the gazebo one of the country houses. The evening had just begun, so we are still sober and are quite unintelligible conversation.
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Forgiveness.

Forgiveness is very difficult, and sometimes impossible. It may be better just not to do those things for which you need to ask forgiveness?


Before death, many people begin to wonder. Everyone thinks about her, someone is sitting in the memory of the bad things that someone says is good, but all United in one way or another, people are thinking only about one thing: is there something there? A man selfish and vain, this is its basic stupidity, he naively believes that it’s necessary to leave something after itself, and really thinks that without him the world would be worse. No matter who you are, king or beggar, the world will not change after your death, there may be some events that will change the map of the world or something, but the scale of the universe, it is only a little spit in the vast ocean. For example, my grandfather once came up to me and put on the table a book about Jesus Christ that was given to me at school in the fifth grade. At the beginning of the 90s our English school came aliens, children of the new Russia, they were brought not only gum, like Huba Buba, but the literature of a religious nature. Then began a new fashion: do not love communism, and to love God. Therefore, the school administration did not oppose this literature. My grandfather was a Communist to the bone, died from a membership card under the pillow, the entire religion knocked out of him in the 37th, so the question: Why did he read it? Then and now, remains a mystery to me.
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Putin aide defends Google

Клименко


Decommunization names of settlements of the Crimea in Google Maps — this is a mistake of developers of the service, said Life President’s Advisor, Chairman of the Board of the Institute for the development of the Internet Herman Klimenko.
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The great Russians!

Do you feel great? No? Then you or Western mercenary or a member of the fifth column, or simply loser! If you listen to Russian propaganda, paid bloggers, schizophrenics type Korotchenko (did not want to offend George, just the person have a diagnosis, people without facial expressions), it turns out we all great. We have the best army in the world, the polite and brilliant President, the best the State Duma, and so on and so forth. Since the Soviet Union rhetoric about the power of comrades has not changed at all. In the USSR it was the big, fat, great and powerful. Do not eat the fuck was behind it was nothing, went to the buckets, but it was great. The best explanation from patriotov is always the same: Not all measured jeans and iPhones! There is a great goal, there are spiritual ties, is something more than ham and cheese. And here I want to say the words of the classics: “we have no garage!” Just us common people and not IPhones, we do not go to Mercedes, bought state. account, don’t eat French cheese receptions in the Kremlin and do not rest in Courchevel. We have in addition to greatness no fuck! But the worst part of this fucking, Russia has no future. Simply it is not!


Recently Delyagin, by the way, a friend who is freaking out over Putin, announced the numbers. Officially 60% of people poor and poor. The poor are those who already can not afford to buy the right clothes, and the poor who already can’t even afford basic foods. Unfortunately, greatness is not devalued. Greatness cannot eat and to wear, it will not learn children and do not cure for the elderly. Greatness, like patriotism is a disease, a psychological disease. You’re sitting on the couch, in hruscheby, watching as the plane VKS something there is bombing in Syria, and you raised the CDA, you realize yourself a part of something grandiose, but actually, you’re just a stupid Russian boy that milks the state, showing you the beautiful pictures accompanying them with eloquence Kremlin Fucks. You Russian shit that can’t educate their children is normal, is valued in the world, the ordinary world is not great, you can’t afford a medicine, can not, in fact, no dick because all your salary is only enough for housing and food. Thus, even if you disagree with something, you can’t tell because you look askance at other members of the herd, which inhabits great country. You are a Russian citizen, you’re a great redneck, dumb beggar sheep, for which you have already prepared a black plastic bag.
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Boulevard.

In two hours the night Gogol Boulevard completely empty. Summer rain washed and refreshed him, June put on his emerald pajamas, endless Moscow sky was covered with dark blanket, and he prepared to sleep. Tomorrow the Boulevard Wake up and be filled with people tomorrow souls there are sad and to laugh, to meet and to part, it will all be tomorrow, but today, he falls asleep easily inhales the night air and exhales it, occasionally rustling the leaves. Lanterns illuminate the path, stretching into the unknown of existence, they do not prevent it, over the years, he got used to them. Boulevard smiles by the curves of the curbs, laughing at us, over the perishability of our thoughts and feelings, he dreams the faces of people who in his eyes were born, grew old and died. Our tens of years for him only moments ahead of him forever, and we have only oblivion.


From the depths of the Boulevard visible female silhouette, slightly swaying, it is like a boat in the ocean of lanterns floating in the silence of the night. Go on as if afraid to Wake up the Boulevard, to break his rest, afraid to break the serenity and fragility of his beautiful dream.
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Fluid policy

The political scientist Oleg Matveychev — about the new reality of a unified state apparatus in Russia.


In the decrees of the President can be traced to a single strict logic. As we can see, it consists in the fact that our conventionally “bureaucratic” state space is not closed, and fluid — similar to the English word liquid. Today’s presidential decrees demonstrated the three dimensions of this space.
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Agent.

Khovansky inspired.


Summer. The streets are empty, the smell of wet asphalt, which leaves a sprinkler, and greens. I’m going off shift, satisfied, already drunk, waiting for a nice weekend in the company of brunettes, blondes, and possibly some red beast. In which the pocket begins to vibrate the phone while he figured out which of the three pipes, rings, all was quiet. I looked at the screens – missed: Serge.
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Men.

His morning starts off terribly easy. He wakes up half past four in the morning and goes to milk the cow, feed the pig and chickens, and then returns home and prepares Breakfast, while the kids are asleep. When the days are monotonous and mundane, a lot of thought disappear, emotions fly like a spring dust after a long winter. He brews coffee, opens the window and lights a cigarette, watching the street. Monotonous landscape of rural road is diluted only by the change of seasons. He looks into the distance, trying to take in thoughts but they are confused about creating a bunch of downed fragments of cases that are coming today.


In the village work a little, so he has to cling to any business to make money. He has been building and fixing cars, mowing grass, and cut down the old trees and chopping wood. He never refuses and does not shun even the most rough of earnings. To raise three kids it is not just difficult and daunting, especially when the kindergarten was closed and the nearest school is ten miles and all this on roads that are paved under Stalin, and the government just forgot. But despondency and despair is not his way and not his choice, his path is a constant search for solutions, setting goals and their implementation. When behind the wall of sleep children, you just don’t have the right to despair and bad decisions. Your life already belongs to you in full, and no matter what, as if the fate didn’t hit you, you have to drag the cart, the burden of existence.
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Friend.

The worst thing that can happen in the life of man, acre mother-in-law’s friend’s wife. Married, not married makes zero difference. If pussy married, and the man, more successful than you, you get bashed from his wife for their futility, if not married, you will get bashed because nabanye girlfriend will say, would be goat, better than there! They always know everything best of all, they are the best and friends, they are smart and beautiful, even if they have faces like the front of the asphalt paver. And actually, I know women do, if you know the person for a long time, that will captivity listen to it, but I can not understand the other things: to fucking talk about my family, and I had all this shit in the house to make? Women animals are blunt and don’t realize that when you start to live with some shaggy, you choose it, not girlfriends. If I wanted to live with her friends, I would probably be with them.


Evening, my job pisses me off, I’m tired and can’t open a fucking door lock, which can’t change for a month, there is no time and effort. What castle? At fuck forces there. The fifth attempt, I finally open the door. In the kitchen heard a woman laughing. Put the briefcase on the floor, removed her shoes and walk to the kitchen:
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