Showing posts with label trotsky. Show all posts
Showing posts with label trotsky. Show all posts

Wednesday, January 6, 2021

#AMWRITING #BLOGGING – ARE WE PROUD NOW, AMERICA?

 


AMERICAN NAZI

After all of the denial. After all of the normalization. After all of the rationalization and nay-saying and trying to work around the person at the center of the discussion, much like trying to avoid the elephant in the room, our country has finally had to come to the grim realization that Donald J. Trump is merely a thug, and like any thug, he tried to apply muscle to both Houses today to force, stall, or subvert the inevitable.

I have to admit that I've kept him on the outside of my bubble for a long period of time. My bubble is this: my Asperger condition. I'm highly functioning, but like any Aspy, too much stimulation or stress gets all of my other “inconveniences”, like essential tremor going and so, I retreat to non-knowing bliss. Pretty much the last time I dealt with anything Trumpian was the day I returned from Japan and he was doing some of his immigration shit and wouldn't you know it, but, I had to fly into Dulles Airport and... it sucked. It took forever to get through Customs, even being legally blind. Whatamess. I decided that I would check out for a few years and that would be okay.


Trump. And dogs playing poker. I think the dogs won.

So, I went off to play viola, rescue some cats, move to South Carolina and get engaged, rescue some more cats, play some more viola, and then along came 2020. Holy Mackerel.

To say that this year was bad is like saying that Florida has hurricanes, or California experiences wildfires. I cannot believe in the sheer magnitude of the loss of life and the sickness and the blow to the economy that would NEVER have happened had we not stayed locked down for an initial six to eight weeks and flat-lined, instead of a three week lock down and open back up, when diseases don't work like that, especially a NOVEL virus that has never been seen before and is zoonotic (translation: jumps from species to species; a special kind of hell) to boot! I still haven't left the house since last February.

Also, a little reality check here. Does anyone remember in about the 3rd week of the announcement of having COVID-19 on U.S. soil, that the U.S. Navy said on Twitter one bright March day, “Oh btw, Aliens are a thing!” Well, they did and I totally haven't forgotten, but I digress.

Anyway, as we went through this worst of all years, and experienced George Floyd's murder over and over via video in late May (which was in itself 8 years long) and finally saw people get well and truly fed-up with all of the rampant killing being done by police and #BLM led the charge to protest and make whites 'fess up to the fact that we've never, EVER truly addressed racism, nor made everyone free, safe and equal, we got to take that time to look at ourselves and address our own shortcomings and say “Yeah, it DOES suck to be a black person in this here United States. Now, what are we going to do to fix this?” These kinds of moments are our opportunities to leap forward and to make reparations and acknowledge that we can do better.

History gives us this ability to seize that moment and it came again today, January 6, 2021, when Donald Trump's thugs stormed the Capitol and took over the House and Senate. It was astonishing. It was frightening. It was sad and horrific. This is the United States at its worst, because unlike the War of 1812, we did it to ourselves.

When we voted in November, 2020, we voted in Joe Biden for our 46th President of the United States. Since that was made official, Donald Trump has sent Rudy Giuliani, his attorney to several Supreme Courts, who turned down his petitions in every case, but one. Donald Trump has tried to get the Electoral College of each state thrown out so that he can substitute his own delegates; that too has been denied. He did manage to get some GOP Senators and Congressmen to question the validity of what was to have been today's final validation by the sitting Vice President, Mike Pence, but just in case that wasn't going to work, he called on his Proud Boys and other white Nationalists and Trumpists to intervene. They did so by storming the Capitol building and smashing things.



This is called "fomenting rebellion". Trump should be impeached immediately under Amendment 25 and arrested for that and his followers should be arrested for committing "insurrection". This is still a country of laws and truth. What he doesn't understand is that if a Revolution DOES come, it may not have the desired outcome and there is always, ALWAYS a Trotsky waiting in the wings.

This is thuggery at its finest and you don't get any more brutish than this. This is shit that was done in the 1st Republic of Rome and that was a long time ago. When the men and women of the Senate and House were finally allowed to re-convene this evening, Mitch McConnell (THAT fucking weasel) looked shaken, and spoke of the need to have a country that was “Ruled by Law” or some nonsense. Other senators spoke and were impassioned that the American people had spoken; that a clear majority had voted for Joe Biden and that by putting aside their wishes, we would no longer stand as a republic, or a Leader among countries. As it stands, we've already blackened our own eye, and we have a long way to go to repair our image. Let's not go down the road of the “banana republic”.


Wednesday, December 7, 2016

#IWSG – DECEMBER CHECK IN – TROTSKY FILLING IN THIS MONTH!


Sorry, Viola Fury couldn't make it! She all tied up in symphony rehearsals and many viola playing! Playing otlichno viola! Is korosho? You think for once in her life, she could post decent check in that let everyone know she care about writing? Bah! All she care about is stupid viola and music! Not give one damn about me and her kinda crappy about goals!


D'obro Vechir! Mena Zavut Trotsky!

They all play lovely Rachminov “Variations on a Theme of Paganini” in some alternate universe, when they should be playing Schumann's Symphony Number 1, in B flat Major in Tampa Bay Symphony. But... Nyet! They all run off and find some wizard of a pianist!

“Play Rachminov!”, she said! “Stay home!”, I said!

Never! Off she goes with viola and leaves me alone to pine! “Sigh!” It is sad to be a Russian Blue... Maybe I go off and sing the Blues... Is that allowed here? In the USA? Now, that President Obama is not going to be in White House?

This Trump Turnip? He say he knows Putin? I think Putin will, how you say? Have his lunch... maybe eat him for lunch. More like it; Putin very, very wily and smart; this Trumpkin Turnip. He dumb, like bag of hammers, or napkins; he a goner. For sure, he no President; he think he smart? Ha!...

I wish my redhead would come back to me. She was my one and only; actually I left her. I came to her when she most needed me; left her when she most needed me, but I couldn't help it. I was so old; sick beyond sick. She know that; she still pine. Now, she doesn't really need me, but... I need her. How do I get her back? Does anyone know? Or am I with her always in her memories.


ViolaFury and stupid viola, "Wolf".
    I should be in lap, not piece of junk wood! >.<


Da, that is it... we are interwoven. Well that is #IWSG for now. She will not be here in January. She will be in another country, with her beloved viola, playing. There is a saying in my country, in Rodina, da. “Your first love may be great, but your last love will be perfect.” I truly believe this, and as she has had tough times, she crafted her well-earned perfect life, but is still waiting for her perfect love. Spaciba and D'zvadanya! More drivel in февраль, 2017. Maybe she write some words, but she still be playing many viola in Tampa Bay Symphony. Bye Bye, as you say, for naow!

Thursday, October 27, 2016

#STORYTIME – BLOGHOP – “911”


It's time for another round of #Storytime Blog Hop fiction! Please be sure and check out these other terrific short stories, by these superb writers!

PARTICIPANTS
C. Lee McKenzie Beautiful
 Erica Damon Penance J. Q. Rose Sorry
 Elise VanCise Lady In The Woods Barbara Lund Spooky Space
Angela Wooldridge Quiet Neighbours Katharina Gerlach Australian Dream 
Karen Lynn The Waves at Midnight Sherri Conway Ants
 Elizabeth McCleary Over James Henry Wilcox Dead Body Canis Lupus The Picture
 Peg Fisher All In the Fall, a Fractured Fairytale Bill Bush Trapped
 Benjamin Thomas Autumn Cascade Crystal Collier Emily’s Ghost Juneta Key (placeholder)

“9-1-1, What is your emergency, please?” The woman on the on the other end of the phone sounded anxious, but not particularly scared, she may even have been said to have even sounded a bit sheepish, and , well, no small wonder later on, when everything got sorted out and stories were compared and various parties interviewed, for what seemed to have been a sorceress, or a “temptress”, or mayhap a delightful devil-may-care companion up for some Samhain, Halloween, or All Hallow's Eve shenanigans with her talking familiar, an alarmingly large soot-gray panther with glowing green eyes, who answered to the name of “Trotsky” and conversed with his mistress in Russian, it all sounded rather like, well, mass hypnosis, or as if several folks had tarried too long at the Cider Barrel at one particular high-rise, during the annual Halloween party. Except for the fact that this high-rise didn't have annual Halloween parties and the tenants weren't particularly prone to this kind of delusional thinking.

courtesy:furtech.dreamwidth.org                                 

Some called in saying they had seen a woman in a black ninja outfit with katanas, having sport with a giant cat-like, well, leopard up on the roof garden, and wasn't that just illegal to have a leopard out in the open, in public, like that?

An older woman called, saying that her next-door neighbor had visited for tea, a wonderful tea and brought cookies, along with her cat, and the cat had yowled a wonderful rendition of “Old Man River”, while the younger woman played piano, and now the old lady felt silly calling about it, but she was a bit dubious about a house-cat the size of a house, practically, because, when last she had seen Trotsky, he had seemed much, much smaller. The woman kind of petered out on the whole "send a prowl car" thing, when asked what she wanted to do; she felt rather sheepish about it all. The 911 operator sighed; it was obviously going to be a very long night. 

courtesy:pinterest                                        

A man called in flustered, because he claimed a temptress had tried to seduce him in the Laundry room in the basement and as they were about to embrace, he felt a cat winding itself around his legs, only he was afraid to look down, because the cat's tail felt HUGE, like a ship's docking rope and when he did look, OHOLYMARYMOTHEROFGOD!, he nearly fainted! He glimpsed feet the size of dinner plates! The temptress and familiar let out evil cackles and then. . . poofed away! In a puff of smoke. 

One of the many doctors who lived in the building called in, put out because he had gotten an on-call for an emergency to the nearby teaching hospital, and when he pushed the button to the elevator, the door opened, and a woman and a huge cat, or two little people in a leopard-costume, like a horse-costume only smaller, dressed in surgeon's whites jumped out. They both shouted “SURPRISE!!!” and then, they ran gleefully off down the hall. The doctor surmised from this that the leopard was real, as he didn't believe that two little people could run quite that fast, encumbered as they were by the leopard-suit clad in surgeon's whites.

The doctor said, “I know my residency has kept me pretty cloistered, but when did leopards evolve to the point that they could talk?”

The poor 911 operator, who by this time had had her fill of all of these calls answered him, “Sir, I'm not the National Geographic hot-line, nor a biologist, so I'm not up on that myself. I'll have a prowl car sent.”

The doctor, now in a huff, said, “Don't say the word “prowl”. It makes me feel like I'm “prey”.”

The 911 operator shot back, “Well fine! Why don't you just wait until I have Scully and Mulder sent out; this sounds like their bailiwick, anyway!”

courtesy:youtube.com                                        

  
To which the doctor riposted, “At least they don't prowl! So there!” The 911 operator rolled her eyes; people used to at least TRY to be witty.

It was turning into that kind of night, for everyone involved and it was just one high-rise building near one teaching hospital in one state. It just all seemed to devolve into one of those half-waking, half-sleeping states, where everyone seems either confused or delusional or both.

Nevertheless, all of this DID happen, on one certain H'ween eve, and no one is ever sure why it did happen, and as the Ann Arbor police would later say, “no harm, no foul, and the “alleged perp” ain't talkin'. As if a cat could talk.” The policeman then snorted and patted the gorgeous Russian Blue on his head and left the nice lady's apartment.

courtesy:me                                                                           

As soon as the door was closed, the nice lady turned and hissed at Trotsky in Russian, “What were you thinking? I told you we could NOT do this anymore! How could I let you talk me into this!”

The cat looked at her obdurately and yawned, and then as all spoiled rotten cats do, jumped up, grabbed her around the neck, nestled in and said, “Da.” Then switched to his patently horrid English. “Is okay. I have many fun; you too! No one hurt!”

She rolled her eyes and hugged him tighter. “You've been in this country HOW LONG? Would it kill you to learn a pronoun or three? What if someone doesn't think this is so funny and they catch you “changed” and you get killed? That will kill me! Yeah, yeah, I know it was all fun and games during the Russian Revolution, but folks're different here. They're scared of their own shadows. 'Sides they might miss you and shoot me, or some stupid thing.”

Trotsky pushed back from her throat and looked her square in the eyes; this was how she knew she had something “other” than just a cat, when she found him at three weeks old tottering up a dirt road; that striking intelligence. She had long ago learned to just go with whatever was tossed her way; there were far more many things unseen than seen and she'd quit asking questions at around age 25.

He looked at her searchingly for several minutes, huffed, and said, “You think you found me by accident? It was I found you. I knew you have heart of lion; take anything that come at you. Not wrong about that. You should not worry about me. It is I who worry about you; you take too many chances.”

She was aghast. “That is what life is; taking chances. Surely you know that and lived your life accordingly. We can have fun; always must have fun, but life is to be lived and if it means taking chances, we do.” She started to laugh; “Maybe we're just arguing the same point, here, but really, if you're going to shape-shift, choose something less alarming. Next time, chihuahua.”

Trotsky's eyes twinkled. “Bah! Decent sorceress no has chihuahua. Next time; Tiger!” He laid his head on her shoulder and fell asleep, purring.

courtesy:pinterest.com                                        



        


                                 

Saturday, November 8, 2014

GORBACHEV'S WARNING AND THE FALLACY OF A “SHARED VISION”* - WE SAY GOODBYE TO LUDWIG; FOR NOW



When Mikhail Gorbachev was Premiere of the USSR he first adopted perestroika (перестро́йка), in the mid-80s, along with glasnost (гла́сность) and primarily did so to try and restore a moribund USSR to some kind of economic pre-eminence that it had really never enjoyed, not even under Stalin. To be sure, the power-house that was the USSR had done amazing things, such as improve it's literacy rate from less than 5% to over 95% under Lenin's first five-year plan, even while fighting a civil war with the Royalists; it was Trotsky's magnificent pen and organizational abilities that allowed the Red Army to be built, fight and finally prevail against arrayed enemies sent from Poland and even from the U.S. In an attempt to halt the rise of Bolshevism. But Communism was an idea that took firm root under the hands of Lenin, Trotsky, Bukharin, Kamenev, Zinoviev, et al. and would have remained rather benign had not Lenin died prematurely in January of 1924.


Russian Postage Stamp, circa 1988, celebrating Perestroika in the USSR

Copies of his Last Will and Testament had been distributed to several party members of the Duma and stated simply that under no circumstances should Iosif Vissarionovich Dzhugashvili, better known as Stalin, be allowed to become Premiere, and preferably, should be reduced to a minor role; in short Stalin was dangerous, narcissistic and given to paranoia. Unfortunately, Stalin found out about the will and managed to reclaim every copy and then to do away with everyone who had possessed one. His long-simmering feud with Trotsky grew to epic proportions and Trotsky was forced into exile, all the way to Mexico City. Not content with having him even on the planet, Stalin had Trotsky assassinated in 1940.


Trotsky, my Russian Blue, not Leon Trotsky, the writer and Bolshevik Party Red Army Leader.

When Stalin died in 1953, his mark was firmly embedded on the USSR. The zeitgeist of the country was one of suspicion of outsiders, paranoia, a deep sense of inadequacy regarding it's place on the world stage and yet, a hatred of anything really new. At least that is how it would seem to a westerner. The reality, I believe was much different. The old USSR and now, Russia is a country of brilliant scientists, poets, artists and critical thinkers. It is also a country of some of the toughest people imaginable. No other country has been invaded so many times. They withstood sieges at Stalingrad and Leningrad. The Nazis made it as close as six blocks from the outskirts of Moscow, before the tide was turned against them. This is the country that lost anywhere between 20,000,000 to 55,000,000 people, both military and civilian, in World War II, while the USA suffered 450,000 casualties. The reason the numbers are so disparate is because, while “official” numbers tend to be lower, independent researchers, over the years, have painstakingly pored back over birth records and talked to surviving relatives, in villages in the west. The other issue is that so many people were also still sent to P.O.W. Camps and D.P. Zones (displaced persons) tended to be rather haphazard in identifying remains, as battle fronts were still fluid. Anyway, I digress.


Mikhail Gorbachev and Margaret Thatcher, in 1989

This is really about Mikhail Gorbachev and what he said recently on the anniversary of the fall of the Berlin Wall. Mr. Gorbachev was “elected” Premiere of the old-style Soviet Union after a series of gray-heads came and went. When Stalin died, Georgi Malenkov inherited all of Stalin's titles, but lost out within the month in a power struggle to Nikita Kruschev. As Premiere, no one dreamed that even with all of his shoe-banging and hollering about “burying the United States in the ash-heap of history” that he was a closet subversive and would allow Alexander Solzhenitsyn to publish his “A Day in the Life of Ivan Denisovich” (an un-put-downable little tome about a little prisoner's day in the gulag) and THEN allow it's reprint in the west, where it was an instant sensation (READ IT! If you haven't, it's great!). Well, Nikita remained Premiere from 1955 until 1964, when while vacationing on the Black Sea, he was recalled by Leonid Brezhnev, and in a fiery clash, he was “let go” and basically declared a non-person; he quietly retired to a dacha on the Black Sea and is buried in the Novedevichy Cemetery, not in the Kremlin, although he was a Hero of Stalingrad. His son lives here in the United States, now and is a charming man.


Leonid Brezhnev became General Secretary until his death, and a series of “gray-heads” followed: Yuri Andropov, and Konstantin Chernenko. Their one constant was Andrei Gromyko, who also worked in concert with Eduard Shevardnadze (who along with Stalin, was also from the SSR, Georgia). Gromyko and Shevardnadze had been around during World War II and had negotiated with von Ribbentrop and were people who really got things done. But, again, I digress. When Gorbachev became General Secretary, in 1985 upon the death of Chernenko, he embarked on a series of reforms with the approval of his Cabinet (Duma).

Still, facing the west, with Ronald Reagan and Margaret Thatcher proved daunting at first, with the abjurement from President Reagan, “Mr. Gorbachev, tear down this wall!” Shortly after that, Mr. Gorbachev announced his ideas for perestroika and glasnost, the two ideas wedded together, essentially meaning “transparency within government and a willingness to open a dialog with the west”. Although this was viewed positively in the west, it became a very hard sell for the Russians; once again, Mr. Gorbachev and his visionaries were battling centuries of suspicion of the west, paranoia and again, perversely a lack of self-confidence on the world stage – even Peter the Great bemoaned the fact that Russians were medieval, as he brought them kicking and screaming into the 1700s, in his effort to join the "enlightenment" then going on in western Europe.


Tsar Pyotr spent 18 months traveling incognito in the west and learned how to build ships and bridges, use telescopes and microscopes and build armies. What he didn't learn, he hired and brought home with him. For several years, he had Dutch and Scottish shipwrights, scientists and astronomers who were part of his vast retinue. Many stayed after his death and they are much written about in Neal Ascher's fine book, "The Black Sea". 

Nevertheless, the wall came down, as both sides really did wish to see this happen. With the fall of Eastern Germany, the rest of Eastern Europe was not far behind. Eduard Shevardnadze resigned and went home, to become Georgia's first ever President and to secure for his former SSR, it's lasting independence. Czechoslovakia broke into two separate states, which they had been under the Austro-Hungarian Empire, and Poland elected her first president. The Eastern Bloc was no more. Ukraine elected a president, but as a buffer state near Russia, Ukraine, like Belarus and Chechnya are unique. Ethnic Russians have lived in these countries for centuries and as such, they live and speak both Russian, Ukrainian, or Russian and whatever the home country's language is.

This presents a very unique problem for these regions and problems that we, in the west cannot begin to understand. Mr. Gorbachev has recognized this and addressed it today. “We are on the brink of a new Cold War. Some are saying that it's even begun.” This was said at an event marking the 25th anniversary of the fall of the Berlin Wall, close to the iconic Brandenburg Gate.


The Brandenburg Gate in Berlin, Germany

Mr. Gorbachev's comments echoed those of Roland Dumas, France's Foreign Minister at the time the Berlin Wall fell. “Without freedom between nations, without respect of one nation to another, and without a strong and brave disarmament policy, everything could start over again tomorrow. Even everything we used to know, and what we called the Cold War.”

President Barack Obama seemed to share some of Mr. Gorbachev's concerns, but I feel that he really doesn't quite get it. Even Ronald Reagan and Margaret Thatcher had a clearer understanding of what Russia and her place on the world stage is about. The conflict now in Ukraine is one, that is not about sovereignty so much as it is about appearances. What we perceive here in the west, is not how it really is in Ukraine. The ethnic Russians and ethnic Ukrainians have lived in that region for centuries. As I have mentioned before in my posts, they will feel one way one day about rule or directives from Russia, or a pro-Russian Leader, and then another way, another day. Then, there is Vladimir Putin himself. He will concern himself with Ukraine for a bit, and then get side-tracked by Syria. It was ever thus. Sanctions against Russia will not do anything but cause ill-will and frankly it is ill-will we really cannot afford. We in the west should frankly, butt out. One of the things the Russians DO NOT WANT from us is advice on how to run their internal affairs, and strictly speaking, this is still an “internal affair” even if it does involve another country.

courstesy of: readditing.com

The perfect map for "busy Americans on the go..." circa 2012, but hey, wait five minutes and it changes, and then changes back, so, this could all be correct, again. The "Commies" part of it is still in play, I believe, and some may have moved farther south to Sevastapol. Whatever. This is a good example for why we should keep our noses and sanctions to ourselves.

President Obama is using a fallacious argument by paying “tribute to the East Germans who pushed past the East German guards to flee to the west”. This is a wholly different situation and Mr. Gorbachev is right to bring Mr. Obama to task. We all want freedom and equality in all nations, but we must look at these situations realistically. Those ethnic Russians in Ukraine are a huge part of the country and they must have a say in their governance as well. That is something Mr. Obama has overlooked time and again. It's time for him to get real; his “shared vision of peace in all nations” is not attainable by his methods. The west must seek an accord with Russia that is acceptable to both parties; not just impose sanctions on a country with no understanding of the real situation on the ground. Mr. Reagan and Mrs. Thatcher understood this better than Mr. Obama and they were supposedly more conservative than the current President.

*My second largest readership resides in Russia. I'm not quite sure how that happened, but I am appreciative for that and for each and every one of you. Спасибо


Well, last Tuesday, we put on an absolutely stellar show at the Palladium Theater in St. Petersburg, Florida. It was even better than the concert we had on the previous Sunday. Tomorrow is our last concert of this series and then we say goodbye to Beethoven. . . for now. It has been an exhilarating, frightening and thoroughly enjoyable experience! I've fallen in love with Beethoven all over again, and it's a love that is deep and wide and will never end. There are times in playing certain figures and passages that still take my breath away with the creativity and the depth of his development; from a simple theme to a 16-measure run of 32nd notes, in the celli and violas, that are meant to be tossed off, light as air and are then echoed in the violins. It is sublime in it's perfection and the execution has been as near-perfect as can be. We have done honorable service to Beethoven's and then some; it is as a benediction and such a privilege to play. Our conductor, Mark Sforzini, Music Director is wonderful and under his guidance he has wrought a miracle. I am so fortunate. Next up, Edward Elgar and Enigmas.


Wednesday, October 16, 2013

#ROW80 4TH QTR - WEDNESDAY CHECK IN – SPAM COMMENTS FROM HOMELESS CHRONICLES “READERS?”



Who knew I had so many readers or followers? I certainly didn't until today, when I happened across my SPAM comments folder or doohickey or whatever it's called out there in cyberland, where all of these fabulous bits and bytes occupy space, if not time. It's up to me to occupy time and try and persevere over it, but we'll get to that in a moment.


Needless to say, I was just gosh-a-mighty pleased to find that so many swell folks had bothered to comment on my blog, until I started to notice a few things. One of them is this, all of the comments are coming from “Anonymous” and I'm pretty sure it's not this guy:




Anonymous' corporate logo of choice. As a protest group, or a focal point for protest, their Mission Statement may seem apt for our times, but there is always the possibility of becoming vigilantes merely to make a point, rather than justice.


Number two; depending on the subject, the spam is sorta related to whatever topic I was blogging about that day. I am hoping and praying that this has more to do with the search-and-spam algorithms, or else we are up to our eyeballs in a universe of deranged madness. The It's not just the pornoQueen sites, it's the sort of puckish, yet demented cross of one of those translator robots and AutoText Correct.

Of course, once I started really trying to decipher it, it just became hilarious; well, to me, at least, because, it's confuse-a-what at it's finest. And in a weird, sort of Boolean, true-or-false, computer way, it makes sense.


 
Why yes, Anon, I do happen to know of plugins to protect against hackers. It's pictures of warts in ASCII code. 1001 0001 1111 0010 etc... or you can write it in Python, I understand... 

StopIteration... Wait! What?


To be sure, the comments were rich and varied but none so filled with irony and self-fulfilling prophecy or fate, or something high-flown sounding as this:


For you non-programmers in the reading audience, site () = null in JAVAscript, which is about as nihilistic as it gets. Of course, my upside-down sense of humor finds this hysterical, to the point of almost-apoplexy. There are times, when even the heaviest of psychotic medications are penetrated by the unreality of this world.

Meanwhile, over in Russia, happy is sad; sad is happy. Too much is truth, pravda and vremya and once again, тротскы, виолафурыжс феллош травелер ис чоме. It's pretty bad, when your alter ego has an alter ego, but Имагинары Тротскы and ViolaFury have traveled along for many years. So, I guess it was natural for this to show up:


My Russian being slightly less horrible than my Spanish which is awful-to-mediocre on any given day, this loosely translates as "Samsung Corgis and Vodka Being Please No Stop." Or, it's just a bunch of garble kicked off by the 2013 Bloggers' "A to Z Challenge Letter, Z for Zither."


One night I was working on a post and I got one of those annoying "Restart" messages for some doohickey or another. I try to jump on those and kill them as quickly as possible, but I wasn't quick enough this night, so of course, I received the legendary "Windows Update..." message, for what seemed like 6 years. 

Since I write most of this dreck in my head, I had plenty of time to wait, while Microsoft rooted around on my hard drive and snooped and pried and did absolutely nothing except slow things down and cause me to uninstall most of whatever it had installed in the first place. 

Of course, some search-and-spam algorithm responded with this:


Yeah, I do need some quality meds, and Vodka, if you expect me to work with your stupid operating system, thank you very much! Bring me some blinis, black bread and sour cream too, you stupid apparatchik! Balalaikas, too!



WE'RE STILL WAITING! OH, THE HUMANITY, THE HUMANITY!


Still another response to the "Windows Updating. . ." post. Apparently, I had much to rant about, being as how it's Microsoft and it sucks and all and IBM has a much superior product in it's operating platform for PCs, called OS/2 or Merlin. IBM just didn't know how to market it, so the majority standard is Windows with Java and it ALL sucks!

I'll leave you with this; I had to look at this for the longest time to understand what was so familiar about this type of spam. Well, when I puzzled it out and. . . Shit. I was being really good about the cuss words and then. . .


This is actually kind of creepy; this particular (data-mining) response is to my post "TECHNO-STUPIDITIES," but the algorithm is from this post. So, all that Eye-in-the-Sky paranoia, is maybe not so paranoid after all. 


Which kind of leads me back to Anonymous, our "V" guy. The whole personal freedom thing here in the U. S. of A. Now, that as of today, we have once again, veered our lemming hordes away from the fiscal cliff, I guess we can breathe a sigh of relief.

This week, really did nothing towards attaining any of my Deliberate Goals, but I did get some of my blood work back and it looks okay. Next up, Eyes (in the sky?) and Bone Density scan. Enough folderol. JC has been sick and is recovering from cancer surgery, as well. But, he is a trooper and all in all is feeling pretty good. On my "Deliberate Goals" blog, I am going to re-post 2 posts I wrote about a very wonderful pet we had when I was a kid. They will be part of my life's story, should I ever publish. 


Tuesday, April 23, 2013

BLOGGING FROM A TO Z APRIL 2013 – LETTER “T”


Лев Троцкий

(Lev or Leon Trotsky)


When I was in college studying, I took Russian History and Languages for 2 years. Ever captivated by them, their art, their sheer heart in the face of adversity and completely fascinated by the Bolshevik Revolution. Trotsky was born Lev Davidovich Bronstein, but as all Russian Marxists soon found, it was easier to remain out of the clutches of the Czar's secret police with noms de guerre. Lenin was born Vladimir Ilyich Ulyanov and Stalin, a Georgian, was born with Iosif Vissarionovich Djugashvili. He deliberately chose the moniker “Stalin,” because in Russian, it means “steel.” Harbinger of things to come and not good things.


Here, artist; you must make me look MORE evil. Draw some fangs and a tail!

Trotsky, was initially a member of the Menshevik party, a more loosely-organized and liberal party than the Bolshevik party. Although he and Lenin quarreled and often times had out and out splits over dogma of true Marxism, prior to the 1917 revolution, they both recognized the other's worth. Neither, however trusted Stalin, although he too was part of the inner circle.


Stalin doesn't even look like he's having a good time here. Spoilsport!

Trotsky initially came to prominence in 1905. A peaceful strike was held at one of the shipyards and grew into a general strike in St. Petersburg. Father Georgi Gapon led a peaceful procession of the participants and citizens through the streets to the Winter Palace to plead with Czar Nicholas for food and relief for the oppressive government. The Palace Guard fired upon the peaceful gathering, causing the deaths of a 1,000 of those gathered. This has become known as Bloody Sunday.

Trotsky was picked up, arrested and put on trial, a “show trial.” He was allowed to speak in his defense, although the resulting verdict was a foregone conclusion. It is said that he gave the “speech of his life.” A superior orator, dynamic, forceful and an incredible writer; impassioned, logical and understanding of what was at stake and how to communicate to people who were not necessarily the most literate, Lenin understood him and wanted him on the Bolshevik's side. Stalin feared him.




Trotsky and his daughter Nina in 1915, France

After these events, Trotsky secretly returned to Russia from imprisonment in Siberia, and set up shop in Kiev. He had been printing leaflets in Kiev, but soon decided he needed a wider audience. He went north, to St. Petersburg, was discovered and had to flee to rural Finland. During all this running and fleeing, he managed to found the newspaper Pravda, Truth.

The Menshevik and Bolshevik parties were still at odds, but slowly gaining strength and also consensus about what they wanted to achieve for Russia. It was decided at one of their many gabfests that they would unite as one. Zinoviev, Bukharin, Bulganin, Plekhanov, Kirov and others, to a man, all lined up behind Lenin. Lenin and Trotsky continued to spat, but again, they all argued over dogma. There is a scene in “Reds” that depicts it accurately. It just sounds like a lot of yelling.


This was probably taken after a yelling session in the Politburo.

While all of this is going on, the country is literally falling apart. In 1914, when WWI breaks out, Trotsky is in France, once again in exile. Then, France deports him to Spain for anti-war activities. This has come about, because when Lenin declared the Third Internationale, he adopted it as written by Trotsky, which excluded Russia from WWI entirely. So, Spain, says, “well, we can't have any peace-mongers here,” and they ship Trotsky to the U.S. The U.S. lets him stay and teach or write or play chess, for a while, and then in 1917, the Russian Revolution breaks out. Czar Nicky gets tossed and Trotsky hops a ship under Swedish registry which gets waylaid by the British government and sent to Canada. Trotsky gets detained for a month in an internment camp in Nova Scotia. All because Lenin, as head of the Bolshevik party, pulled Russia, who at that time was an ally, OUT of the war.

After some fum-fawing, and fooling around, the Russian foreign minister Pavel Malyukov demanded the release of Leon Trotsky as a Russian Citizen, and the British Government released him on April 29th, 1917. When he arrived home, although he agreed with the Bolshevik position, he didn't join right away. Eventually he did, and sided with Lenin against Zinoview and Kamenev to overthrow the Provisional Government headed by Aleksandr Kerensky. Stalin wrote of Trotsky's particular prowess as a Military Leader in his memoirs, a passage Trotsky later expunged from his own works; the enmity between the two that great even then.

Trotsky was not only a wizard on the battlefield. He was the consummate politician, securing Lenin's primacy in the Soviet, keeping the power centralized and by the end of 1917, Trotsky was the number 2 man in the Bolshevik Party. He streamlined the organization and centralization, which had been Zinoviev's task. Zinoviev did feel the slight, but soldiered on; he had been with Lenin for over a decade.


The yelling ranged from distribution of goods, to whether or not Russia should recognize other countries at war.

Trotsky went on to experience more brilliant achievements, became Head of the Red Army in 1918 and several reversals (losing his beloved army in 1925) in fortune. It is no secret that Stalin hated and feared him more than any other man. In Lenin's last will and testament, he literally beseeches the heirs “Stalin is too coarse... becomes intolerable in a Secretary General.” Of Trotsky, Lenin says, “...is distinguished not only by his outstanding ability. He is personally perhaps the most capable man in the C.C. (Central Committee) but he has displayed excessive self-assurance and excessive preoccupation with the administrative side of his work.”

After Lenin's death, Stalin reclaimed every copy of this testament that he could, killed the recipients and hounded Trotsky and thwarted him in everything the man tried to do. Trotsky and his family, after running for several years, ended up seeking asylum in 1935 in Mexico City. There he studied, wrote, and published “true” histories of the Bolshevik revolution. He lived quietly in a house that belonged to the painter Diego Rivera. On August 21, 1940, and undercover NKVD agent, Ramon Mercader broke into his house and hit him in the head with a pickaxe. Trotsky was rushed to a hospital and operated on, but died a day later. He was 60 years old.

I always liked Trotsky; the pen is mightier than the sword, he proved that. It would have been a far different USSR or CCCP had Trotsky and not Stalin succeeded Lenin. We never really stop to think that Lenin was in power, REALLY in power from 1918 until 1922, when he had his first stroke. There are rumors that Stalin had Lenin killed. Who knows? But Stalin ruled from 1924 until 1953; that's a long time to instill a zeitgeist of fear, paranoia and utter hatred for anything outside of yourself. Djugashvili started his career at a Jesuit monastery. I too, was taught by Jesuits, but it just deepens the mystery. One of the first things Stalin did was treat his own SSR, Georgia with immense cruelty. Part of the Harvest of Sorrow.


He has his own Facebook page, "Imaginary Trotsky." Like all animals he graces us with his presence, even if he is no longer here.

On a happier note, in 1987, I inherited a little blue ball of fluff. He squawked when I took him home. I was in the midst of taking some Russian Language and Russian History classes. I didn't know what this little guy was; I named him “Trotsky.” He turned out to be a stunning Russian Blue when he grew up. Smart as a whip and a one person cat. Very protective; all 20 pounds of him. He also had this weird Siamese yowl. I didn't think much about that. He really wasn't a talker. We went pretty much everywhere together. He died in 2002 at the age of 17. I miss him; I found out some cool stuff about these cats. The Arkangel (Russian Blue) cats as they're called, are from Leningrad. During WWII, the breed almost died out, during the 900-day siege by the Nazis. They've been infused with Siamese blood to keep them going, hence the yowl. I learn new stuff all the time. Here's to you, товарищ Троцкий (pal Trotsky.)