Jives Matter
Ah. There was a time in a modern history of Russia, with Russians nearly destined to repeat and challenge the mischief of the Jews and Gypsies... a sound of a "wayback machine", conducted in tearing the country apart, jazzy cacophony of a wave of "national" rocks rolling down the riverbeds of the muddy political tide. You know, a tendency to "get things back for two or three hundred years when it was our land". Then suddenly a simple dismantling of the Soviet State emblem has appeared not satisfying the second-thought, throwing itself from delusional to mad, greedy, subprime needs of the elitist group of "global" top bankers*. In the heartland of the continent, they needed to pump&cc the circulation of the virtual money in regions smaller than Russia, because of the highest improbability to program anything and settle *their* deals in Russia risk-free in generous return for allowance to Russia to chase the buck down the field as its emittents are pleased.
Is it really some Kali Yuga, or what? "Guys, gals, we're apologising we can't give you another galaxy. Same shit, same doing business with same staff, same another thousand years are ahead."
Once it was laughed at. Now this sounds like vacuum - just sucks.
Feel myself slightly disturbed when thinking that your point was not even tried to get dismissed by the readers. At least sometimes, the PR of Kremlin's policy and men who represent it, keep the jivers doing their tricks on scenes.
:-) Hope I didn't show any signs of support of a dictator, or doing another anything comparably shameful? Oh, by the way. How's Fort Knox hangin' there? Can you knock/kick in and ask a simple question... or two?
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* "Global" - mepersonally thinks, like hell they are. The only accountable unit in their flat world is the "Ultimate Me". And they are easily tricked by that bait, but - we'll be some later with more on it...
Is it OK that we, the humble passenger of the boat, see them, elite and airy creatures, as dirty seagulls overfed with lounging plastic sea garbage (-: and snitching away the loaves straight from our hands? Sorrry, from our pocket?
Oh damn. There's only a plastic card in it.