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to consume not gadgets, but an intellectual product and high-quality knowledge. Well, or, alternatively, let the government take responsibility for the maintenance of criminals and their, if possible, re-education. In Norway (probably already faced a similar problem) there are points for drug addicts where they can safely give an injection. They take on the provision of drug addicts, offering them a very simple job – like sales of magazines and Newspapers at the station. While the government sits back and pretends not to notice what is happening on the streets, while still small bandits make regular raids on ordinary citizens of the country. Why, again, people should be held accountable for the incompetence of government bodies. People have their troubles. And then there’s these! Okay, well… I’m back in politics. I write about love, harmony, nature. And rested in the Augean stables that much crap since then, as he rested Hercules. Sometimes it seems to me that I am not engaged in art, but in politics. And I was wildly annoying that the policy debases the art and eclipses the sunlight. “Well,/ka throw melancholy and laziness, and in the street this same day. State business! You catch a shadow?“I never understood why poets/lyricists, such as Vladimir Vysotsky, Sergei Yesenin, became much more popular than poets/philosophers. Well, it is clear that the popularity comes from women – because they share their impressions of the emotions received. But if you think about it, the most delicious poets are philosophers. They manage to create things that are easy to remember. Moreover, the fame of poets/lyricists, entirely rests on the works of poets/philosophers – it is from philosophers that lyricists learn poetic skill. Here, say, Yesenin’s literary career developed in parallel with Mayakovsky’s career. But Yesenin, why/what – although I understand why women like those who are rushing into the distance, not seeing the road – much more popular than Mayakovsky. A similar situation develops in the history of Vladimir Vysotsky and Leonid Filatov. Leonid Filatov’s poems are remembered in flight – after the first reading. What can not be said about the work of Vladimir Vysotsky, if not to be an avid fan of his songs and poems. How many I did not read them – did not remember any phrase. Well, in addition to any/a particular time, such as: “got – got, got – got, five extra pounds gained.“Poets/philosophers have no less lyricism in their poems, with impeccable taste and some quality knowledge. They are sometimes evil, but it gives only a twist. This is not only in poetry can be found, but also in prose, music, painting, word – art. For example, I am very afraid to read the works of ryunoske Akutagawa, because he encourages suicide, and this topic pulls me. And the fact that he ended his life this way is scary. But he is a master of the highest level. Genius! His dizzying stories and images, just forced to come back again and again and re-read – savor. In General, I consider Akutagawa’s works to be the standard of literary mastery. Someday I might try to write too – not quite like him – but on the same level. The same can be said about the works of Virginia Woolf – because they are perfect, flawless, high quality! In ancient literature, too, there are strong the authors, but, unfortunately, people complain, that their very difficult to read. In fact, the whole difficulty of perception of ancient literature lies in the fact that there are very common names and Naz (s) of those times. People just don’t understand who it is, or what it is, because of the confusing names. And learn to read, not paying attention to all these Umnikov, Ferguson, Humpleu, and see how the overall storyline takes place in the mind, not breaking, not breaking the product. It is as if from modern novels to remove all brand names with which authors of numerous series like to trump in urgent haste. If you pay attention, you will see that all outstanding masters of literature, such as London, Akutagawa, Chekhov, Makanin, completely lack media/characters in the stories. The purity of execution of work requires a dismissive attitude to the authorities. I have noticed a tendency that the more modest the plot, the more room for reflection. But there are drawbacks. With the advent of cinema, literature is almost forgotten. But I will tell you what today’s literature should look like. A conversation with the reader. Movies show. Great! Thank you for saving us the trouble of making up scenes and describing everything else. The juice of literature is a story. You can’t show that in a movie. Now we can safely cooperate and not compete as before. Do you agree with me? The image of the virgin in the light dress haunts me again. Only the image – nothing more. When the world is quiet, I am alone in my monastic chambers. Deadlock. Here time is engaged in the destruction of matter. Not a useless job, if you think about it. Not death yet, but close to it. Death is when it all solidifies, transformed into the absolute silence and inaction. No funny baby noise. No dogs barking. Thieving cats break the silence with a nimble sprint under the doors. Again hiding in the unknown. Cats love to sleep. That’s why they are always dirty and lazy crawl out of the basement, where the summer is always cool and warm in winter. Perfect place for cats. From there they can catch rats and mice, although mice mainly live near bags of flour or buckwheat, or wheat, or rice. A mouse, all/??? prefer where drier and reeks cereals. The same can’t be said about rats, always picking at the garbage. Once saw a rat the size that it more resembled an adult hedgehog with a long tail. It was in the ancient city of Derbent, where my late grandmother lived for many years. This city is so old that there is still a stone fortress, towering over the Caspian sea. It’s like people used to live far away from the water. The sea, the sea… how I love your sandy beaches. Thumping waves. Foam rustle. The smell of seaweed. Breeze. In Murmansk I always liked to walk along the pier at three o’clock in the morning, when it is a polar day, when the big sun looks out half from/over the horizon. Northern landscapes give severity. They can not be compared in the mountains, because the winter is high in the mountains eternal. But they are beautiful in their own way. Winter in the North no one cares about the scenery. Constantly howl snowstorms, constantly dark. In the afternoon sun just peeks out from/over the horizon and back hides. He doesn’t care either. It’s amazing how people make trips to the North pole. It’s almost eighty degrees below zero. Endless plains and fierce wind. In the mountains of Pamir and Tibet, and Tian/Shan, almost the same, but in height. Now people go to Everest as tourists. Equipped with oxygen cylinders. All the ways are already prepared – just wait your turn. I’ve always wanted to go to Everest, but I can’t get there. Yes, I’m afraid – so many legends about these campaigns. Although, any much/any experienced climber will tell you that Hiking to Everest if they do not occur on the North wall just child’s play in comparison with the ascent on Jannu on the marble-kilometre plummet at an altitude of seven thousand meters. Experienced climbers generally go without oxygen. The problem is that the air there is very discharged and, in fact, there is simply nothing to breathe. But that is attractive and hike in the mountains – their hardest tests, the danger of dying, fall into a crack or vertical cave. The city man in the street wouldn’t think of that. However, in the city of their difficulties enough – the eternal vanity. When the city all day, the noise, and then suddenly fades in the night, the impression that all died. Immediately the chill of loneliness hugs his shoulders. Peace – you wish it when it is too fussy around. But, as soon as it comes, it begins to seem that it would be better on the contrary. What/zamogilnaya gives peace. The vanities of the world immediately takes on eternal meaning. And what about the vacuum silence of space. However, if you think not so quiet in space. We just don’t have the ability to listen to cosmic noise. The rattling of planets flying at great speed in their orbit. In space, the velocity of matter is measured in kilometers per second. Hellish explosions, so-called prominences, causing solar activity. For some reason it is impossible to describe space in artistic language. Eternal cold. A violent Inferno. Hot light. Long-range light. What an incredible contrast of nature. One day people will learn to move in outer space, as at home – as in the hallway. Build up all sorts of objects: lunar, Martian, Venus. I had a dream that I was on an expedition to Venus. Why/what once seemed an immense desert country, and on this vast plain, a lone cabin with two beds, where they live, scientists who study the planet. I dreamed that a monster entered this house, the image of which is similar to a Russian matryoshka doll, and instead of the right hand – a hook, which it was enough, or clung to all living people. I think it’s a perverted version of a recalcitrant wife. I was madly afraid, but at the same time – endlessly curious. You know, I have noticed that I am not so much a writer as a progressive teacher of literature. I know something about the technology
