Citizen journalism in this town is celebrating a huge victory and I am here to take all the credit. My recent ground-breaking report on a possible contender for the biggest pothole in the State of Missouri sent seismic waves through the City Hall and the solution came swiftly – a bigger barrier.
Parts of the previous orange obstacle that weren’t swallowed by the pothole were recycled…
…and replaced with the state-of-the-art early warning system.
City geologists used the circular cracks around the barrier to size up a new commemorative steel plate which will be placed over the pothole in the near future.
The City Council ordered the City Attorney to draft a letter to BP demanding reimbursement for the repairs (mostly for the barricade) since the appearance of the pothole is directly related to the oil leak in the Gulf of Mexico.
On behalf of myself and many residents of the nearby property tax-free building I’d like to thank the City for paying attention and quick decisive action.
In the USSR May 19th was celebrated as the “Pioneer Day”. Pioneers were the members of the Young Pioneer organization of the Soviet Union, which was a second step in the official Soviet brainwashing pyramid. After a general but unorganized brainwashing from ages 0 to 7,a child entered the first stage of the pyramid by becoming a Little Octobrist. By age 9 being a Little Octobrist wasn’t cool and exciting anymore and kids were looking forward to joining the Young Pioneers. Pioneers wore red ties. They went to summer camps. They had meetings. They were cool. Or so it seemed. I was honestly looking forward to the day when a red tie would be tied around my neck. I really didn’t care about the communist b.s or stories about wise grandpa Lenin, by 1979 I didn’t know anyone who did. Most kids just learned to repeat what was expected of them and move on. Nevertheless, for many of us the day when we were accepted into the Pioneer Organization was a long-awaited holiday. We just wanted to be like older kids and that day couldn’t come soon enough.The picture above was taken on that day in 1979 when we were finally accepted. Joining the Pioneers required some preparation. We needed to know the motto, the rules and, most importantly,…in the presence of … comrades solemnly promise: to love and cherish … Motherland passionately, to live as the great Lenin bade us, as the Communist Party teaches us, as required by the laws of the Young Pioneers of the Soviet Union. Long-time readers of this blog would notice that the ceremony was conducted near the Monument to the Unknown Soldier to make it more solemn and memorable. What made that day even more memorable for me was an afterward trip to the Odessa Catacombs – a series of underground tunnels which during the WWII housed the underground (literally) resistance unit and in peaceful time – a museum. Part of the tour included walking through the tunnels with candles imagining yourself being a partisan. I don’t know about the partisans, but upon the exit I realized that my new pants were completely covered with melted wax, which my Dad had to iron out for a long time. By the way, while writing these posts I discover a lot of stuff I didn’t know before, like the real story of the catacombs which was very different from the official version. With years red tie went from the object of pride to just a dirty wrinkled patch of silk to a dark place in a pocket of the school uniform. The next step was joining the Komsomol, but that’s the subject of another story.
Today, on April 22nd all progressive humanity celebrates the n-Th birthday of the Leader of the World Proletariat, founder of the USSR and the Communist Party of the Soviet Union Vladimir Illyich Lenin. Something like this would make a traditional headline in every newspaper in the USSR as recently as twenty years ago. For years Lenin’s likeness was everywhere, every classroom had a portrait, every school had a bust, every city had a monument or ten, and then there were countless pins, flags, medals, certificates, photos, paintings and other visual aids. On this picture I am posing with Lenin in the parade uniform which I had to borrow because I was too lazy to sew the badges onto my own. In my day, Lenin was not as revered as he was in years before, but we still had to read the stories about his childhood, his love for the common men, his wisdom, his humbleness, his bravery and genius. We didn’t care but it was something that had to be done. As we grew up he was growing up with us, from “Grandpa Lenin” to “Comrade Lenin”, always omnipresent, always watching us from every wall and every city square. Stories of his childhood were replaced by his works that we had to study and quote. Every respectable establishment would have all 55 volumes of his “Collected Works“,which were lovingly translated into every language known to man.We didn’t know about “Red Terror“, hunger, repressions, killings,murder of the Romanov family; people who remembered knew better not to discuss it, every mention of the horrors wiped out or edited to look necessary to establish and protect the new country. Just a kindly old man who cared about us.
No one knows how the world history would have turned out without Lenin. Probably the same. Lenin wasn’t the one killing, robbing, kicking out of the country, starving and raping. He was just issuing the orders.
His body is still out there as a morbid reminder of his genius, evil and determination, a lethal combination which affected billions of people in every corner of the world for generations to come.
Russian and Ukrainian dancing, Siberia, drinking, cold, snow, vodka, Hammer and Sickle, Lenin, Stalin, balalaikas, dancing bears, tanks, ushanka-hats, and more.
httpvh://www.youtube.com/watch?v=p32JwYNMe9s
If there is something else you wanted to know that is not covered in my groundbreaking Behind The Iron Curtain series, this would be a good time to ask. I might even cover your question in an upcoming post.
On an unrelated note, I added a Google+1 button, just in case you feel like clicking on things.
Every year an ever-expanding group of morons gathers to celebrate Stalin’s birthday and reminisce about the greatness of the Stalin’s years in the Russian history. Considering that a person born in 1953 when Stalin died is quickly approaching the age of 60, not too many people in the crowd actually remember the life under Stalin but that doesn’t stop them from marching around, dreaming about going back in time. The irony is in the fact that during Stalin’s times marching around or expressing disregard for the current regime would be a sure-fire way to get shot or be sent to labor camps.
Russian communists stand in line in Red square to attend a wreath laying ceremony at the tomb of Soviet dictator Josef Stalin marking the 130th anniversary of his birthday at the Kremlin wall in Moscow, December 21, 2009.
And here we see a group kids whose parents could use a few months of labor camps themselves.
Members of the youth wing of the Russian Communist party march along Red Square to lay flowers at Soviet dictator Josef Stalin's grave to mark the 130th anniversary of his birth in Moscow, Russia, Monday, Dec. 21, 2009.Russian Communists hold red flags as they queue to lay flowers at the grave of Soviet dictator Josef Stalin to mark the 130th anniversary of his birth, as they walk along the Red Square in Moscow, Russia, Monday, Dec. 21, 2009. St Basil's Cathedral is seen at left and Lenin's mausoleum is at right.Russian communists attend a wreath laying ceremony at the tomb of Soviet dictator Josef Stalin, marking the 130th anniversary of his birthday, at the Kremlin wall in Moscow December 21, 2009.A Russian communist walks along Red Square after attending a wreath laying ceremony at the grave of Soviet dictator Josef Stalin marking the 130th anniversary of his birthday at the Kremlin wall in Moscow, December 21, 2009.Russian Communists leader Gennady Zyuganov, 2nd left, smiles as others hold portraits of Soviet dictator Josef Stalin after laying flowers at his grave to mark the 130th anniversary of Stalin's birth Red Square in Moscow, Russia, Monday, Dec. 21, 2009.Russian communists laugh in front of a McDonald's restaurant after attending a wreath laying ceremony at the grave of Soviet dictator Josef Stalin, marking the 130th anniversary of his birthday, at the Kremlin wall in Moscow December 21, 2009.
With a statue, background, and portrait, foreground, of Soviet dictator Josef Stalin, Georgians attend a rally marking his 130th birthday anniversary in Stalin's home town of Gori, 80 km (50 miles) west of the Georgian capital Tbilisi, Monday, Dec. 21, 2009.Georgians carry portraits of Soviet dictator Josef Stalin during a rally marking his 130th birthday anniversary in Stalin's home town of Gori, 80 km (50 miles) west of the Georgian capital Tbilisi, Monday, Dec. 21, 2009.Continue reading →
In the USSR May 19th was celebrated as the “Pioneer Day”. Pioneers were the members of the Young Pioneer organization of the Soviet Union, which was a second step in the official Soviet brainwashing pyramid. After a general but unorganized brainwashing from ages 0 to 7,a child entered the first stage of the pyramid by becoming a Little Octobrist. By age 9 being a Little Octobrist wasn’t cool and exciting anymore and kids were looking forward to joining the Young Pioneers. Pioneers wore red ties. They went to summer camps. They had meetings. They were cool. Or so it seemed. I was honestly looking forward to the day when a red tie would be tied around my neck. I really didn’t care about the communist b.s or stories about wise grandpa Lenin, by 1979 I didn’t know anyone who did. Most kids just learned to repeat what was expected of them and move on. Nevertheless, for many of us the day when we were accepted into the Pioneer Organization was a long-awaited holiday. We just wanted to be like older kids and that day couldn’t come soon enough.The picture above was taken on that day in 1979 when we were finally accepted. Joining the Pioneers required some preparation. We needed to know the motto, the rules and, most importantly,…in the presence of … comrades solemnly promise: to love and cherish … Motherland passionately, to live as the great Lenin bade us, as the Communist Party teaches us, as required by the laws of the Young Pioneers of the Soviet Union. Long-time readers of this blog would notice that the ceremony was conducted near the Monument to the Unknown Soldier to make it more solemn and memorable. What made that day even more memorable for me was an afterward trip to the Odessa Catacombs – a series of underground tunnels which during the WWII housed the underground (literally) resistance unit and in peaceful time – a museum. Part of the tour included walking through the tunnels with candles imagining yourself being a partisan. I don’t know about the partisans, but upon the exit I realized that my new pants were completely covered with melted wax, which my Dad had to iron out for a long time. By the way, while writing these posts I discover a lot of stuff I didn’t know before, like the real story of the catacombs which was very different from the official version. With years red tie went from the object of pride to just a dirty wrinkled patch of silk to a dark place in a pocket of the school uniform. The next step was joining the Komsomol, but that’s the subject of another story.
Today, on April 22nd all progressive humanity celebrates the n-Th birthday of the Leader of the World Proletariat, founder of the USSR and the Communist Party of the Soviet Union Vladimir Illyich Lenin. Something like this would make a traditional headline in every newspaper in the USSR as recently as twenty years ago. For years Lenin’s likeness was everywhere, every classroom had a portrait, every school had a bust, every city had a monument or ten, and then there were countless pins, flags, medals, certificates, photos, paintings and other visual aids. On this picture I am posing with Lenin in the parade uniform which I had to borrow because I was too lazy to sew the badges onto my own. In my day, Lenin was not as revered as he was in years before, but we still had to read the stories about his childhood, his love for the common men, his wisdom, his humbleness, his bravery and genius. We didn’t care but it was something that had to be done. As we grew up he was growing up with us, from “Grandpa Lenin” to “Comrade Lenin”, always omnipresent, always watching us from every wall and every city square. Stories of his childhood were replaced by his works that we had to study and quote. Every respectable establishment would have all 55 volumes of his “Collected Works“,which were lovingly translated into every language known to man.We didn’t know about “Red Terror“, hunger, repressions, killings,murder of the Romanov family; people who remembered knew better not to discuss it, every mention of the horrors wiped out or edited to look necessary to establish and protect the new country. Just a kindly old man who cared about us.
