THE UKRAINE

Q.: Hurrah, Hurrah! Total Czecho-Slovakia 0.2. The return of Serguei Pravda updated by a half century of 
      decay. Once a Russian spy, always a Russian spy, aren’t you? The systems are changing but the song 
      remains the same. Is that all there is to metamorphosis?
A.: Don’t fall for the trick. It’s only coincidentia oppositorum. The genome’s silly joke on me. My Caucasian 
      circle is closing in. Significantly narrower than an African-American’s. Vainly you deny every past, the
      roots will come after you. It is the curse of the Zodiac. The stigmata of birth.  
Q.: You have never betrayed the original input of the first Five-years plan. You’re crawling with nostalgia for
       the cold war. Your Pentagram didn’t fade a shade in spite of your unspectacular failure. Your loyalty to
       your adopted mother is astounding indeed.
A.: Except for the regional similitude, the two avatars have nothing in common. I’d send the same letter if I 
      was from Canada. What’s demonstrated here is the dialectic of betrayal. The tenacity of the attitude. 
      From Soviet Internationalism into National Bolshevism. Come on baby, light my fire.
Q.: They are obscuring history not to glimpse the present. Is that what they do?
A.: I’m observing the current from above, without emotive prejudice. I might be drifting too slow but always
       find myself on the right side of the river. Desperately seeking for the seeds of treason. My body’s worn 
       down and out but my mind is flexible like a juvenile delinquent’s. I accept no morphological boundaries. 
Q.: ‘The Ukraine’ with the insulting definite article is a very dangerous message, mind you. Your diciest
      attempt of interfering the Zeitgeist to date. It is actually actual. And unmitigated propaganda art like no
       yesterday. An impertinent hoax described as a call for mutiny no nihil and ram. At the age of ’72 and 
       dead like a doornail are you getting realpolitical? Aren’t you delusional yet? You are a sham veteran who 
       never fought for a thing. Do you want to annex Eurasia to the O.S.P.’s metapolitical dominion? Let me 
       remind your amnesiac Lowness that The Party does not exist since 1984. But how can you prove it if 
       investigated? You are an anonymous troglodyte unprotected from the laws of the land. Shouldn’t play 
      wicked games like this.
A.: I’m playing no game of any sort. I’m guided by my inner voice of reason. It tells me I should respond to 
       the crisis. In order to avert further mayhem by all means necessary.
Q.: O my Spiel! This might be the most reprehensible lie of your treachery. All of your life you’ve been  
       scouting for a scandal. Any bloody pretext would do. You don’t want to help anyone, just profit from the
       disaster like an arms dealer. Soulless merchant of an exotic ideology. No humanitarian avidity implied.
A.: This is a crucial moment to reunite the scattered army of the UR under the true logo of Osh Tovarish 
       Dugin fortuitously monopolized. The chaos magic of the alternative path can yet overthrow the reign of
       subhumanist tolerance. The O.S.P. is not an afternoon tea party. It is the happy home of globalitarian
       patriotism for you. A galactic takeover of the multiracist elitariate. The renaissance of ethic supremacy.
Q.: Beware of the warmongers though. They won’t let you get away with hypocriticism (!). Lost between eight 
       transmissions you’d better rationalize your discarnate economy. What if the swindle pans out and
       you’re called to account? Can you stand by your ten words in an interview situation?
A.: Absolutely. I can defend my antithesis before any court. My plain poetry is pure love-speech. Treason is 
       the only true chance for change. It’s the evergreen motto of our cult of life from East to West. The coming
       race knows no discrimination. But the dawn breaks in the Occident as opposed to my Slavic camouflage.
       That’s our anthropocentric perspective. Reconstructive progress is antisunwise.

Q.: You are a white labrat in a virtual cage. Never had a meaningful conversation. You’d deny your idols to
       save your own skin. You have no associate in the whole Pandemonium. Couldn’t give a single name if 
       waterboarded. Because you do not have any members, but who will believe you? No one will petition for 
       the freedom of speech of a Holocaust approver. The Bride will never be on your side.
A.: I despise social media worse than my mother’s tongue. But I have to do this public. Allow comments 
       like a living entity. I am ready for the war on wars. My day of glory has arrived.
Q.: Your attempted hit is a smash in the face of pragmatical populism. You pose as an arch enemy at the gate
       forgetting that you’re armless and naked. More vulnerable than a new-born lamb. Guilty victim of an 
       outmoded symbolism. To know you is to loathe you. You don’t need death threats with your extrasystole, 
       I’m afraid. Your gutless audacity is killing us slowly. Your existence is a perennial suicide. Vainly do I 
       my best to keep you safe with toys and drugs. 
A.: This conflict could have been over in a Blitz if the people didn’t resist. There are but the Cossacks to 
       blame. Hostile minorities have no right to exist. The world should live as one. What’s wrong with that?
Q.: All and everything. I’m up to help you with the pain but often doubt whether you know what you’re
       doing. Lastly you vindicated the most notorious sex trafficker of our generation. Now you’re backing up
       the worst military invasion since Fall Weiss like a Luciferian advocate. But what do you get out of it
       beside filthy hope and pangs of paranoia? Whoever should care about another opinion on the countless
       polls? Everyone has his own universe to handle. Everybody’s alone.
A.: I am an asocial justice warrior. Defender of the falsely condemned. From Ghislaine Maxwell to 
       Vladimir Vladimirovich. That’s wide enough for me.
Q: C’mon Supermännchen and take a look in the mirror I’m holding. You are unable to create a Twitter 
     account. Couldn’t upload a single image without my technical assistance. A wannabe orator who cannot 
     even chat. Should be a lot humbler when you judge.
A.: I need no diploma to tell right from wrong. Objectivity is my indisputable strength. I may be wrong but 
      never err. 
Q.: You are an impuissant outsider lurking in the dark. The Word that couldn’t come true in English.
       Incarcerated in the conditional tense full of contradictions. An exiled pensioner out of Nirvana. The 
       spectre of counterrevolution hiding from the light. 
A.: Four decades have I been waiting for the miracle that’d catapult me from the bottom to the top. Because I
       cannot climb. I tried to stop the Golf-war too way back then. Maybe ‘The Ukraine’ will be my portal. I’m
       bracing myself for the final showdown.

Q.: I’m glad to hear that but don’t think you do. You’re anxious alright but don’t yearn to get it done. You’re
       a lame theory terrified of the practice. Adorno’s enervated progeniture.
A.: Don’t get me wrong, I’m not fond of the Kremlin. I am an independent agent. But I support a cause 
       when it’s just. Unlike American imperialism I vehemently disdain, this is a reunification attempt. 
       Separatism is the cancer of evolution. Tribalism is our fifth column. We also support Assad’s Syria.
Q.: What about the civilian casualties? And the new migration it generated? The threat of a nuclear 
       meltdown? Human suffering is never justifiable. Putin is not like Stalin. Rather his antipode. A
       communist traitor repossessed by orthodoxy. Won’t convert him to Antichristianity like Marilyn Manson. 
       Nor the Trump dynasty for that matter. Baphomet will never fuck Sofia.
A.: Under the omniabscence of Osh nothing is impossible. I’m not interested in the gruesome details. This 
      war must end and so should all wars do. The Party’s promise is Total Peace. An intransigent invitation.
Q.: Tut tut, Mr. 888. The old word-spewer is back again. At least you don’t withhold your ulterior motives. 
       Your vile effort to exploit the carnage will fall on deaf ears. Your videogram couldn’t be less 
       misunderstandable. It promotes majority vice over minority crimes in the strangest way. A brotherhood 
       of the blood. The thing you despise most in the planet. Have you completely submitted to relativity? 
       Resorted to strategic conjecture amidst the culture clash?
A.: Unity is the only solution. Unity with diversity and integrity. The bigger’s always better and that’s the 
        first law of an antigravitational civilization. Why should someone prefer to remain second-class citizen in
       stead of becoming a first? I was proudly Russian as a Warsaw pact exile. Considering my occupied
       homeland an integral part of the empire. Genuinely condemning the Abendland of Christian democracies
       by the book. I got adroitly identical with the magnificent role I was cast to play. The fall of the Berlin wall
       was the greatest catastrophe of my secret life. Another thing I’ve got common with Vova.
Q.: You are an idiosyncratic idiot simulating an enlightened time traveller. You don’t know what it’s like to  
       belong. The emotional rescue you presume offering is not for political refugees. It is for the Nihilist 
       Convention. A party of the living dead.
A.: There are situations only treason saves. It’s always been so but never a doctrine. Treason is not equal to 
       surrender but the perfect reversal of it. The surpassing retreat. Sacrifice is a barbaric remnant of the 
       mortal. An intonation is not worthwhile to die for.
Q.: Your infernal pacifism is a transparent disguise of uncompromising bigotry. Little different from a 
      career politician. Your illoyalist ontology is foreign to Neo-Nazis. 
A.: There are Neo-Nazis on both sides. Maybe they should ally against their dividers. It would be a triumphant 
      insurgence of the few. A big win of the genetic lottery. That’s what I would suggest to the Eurasian 
      Parliament. The common salute should save the day of reckoning. 
Q.: Sieg, Heil! The bastard nephew’s summoning his Uncle. But the force ain’t with you. It is no mystery why 
      you are tongue-tied. You’d be shot from both sides with that centrist standpoint. Martyred by a behaviorist
     duplicity. The Crucifixion wasn’t a worse theatric.
A.: The Oshist uprising is above the polar wings. A rocket from the crypt. In the single eye of Horus there are
       but two sides of the modern world. The Moral and the Liberal. Divine terror or human horror. It’s time to
       do draw a horizontal line.

Q.: The geopolitical substratum of your grotesque postulate is a total blam blam. Sheer demagoguery without 
       any substance. You should have remained a lyricist. What a damage that your bandmates marooned you.
       You wouldn’t have to send out epistles like a stranded robot to a phantom public. You’ll never 
       transcend the sublunary region. There is no opposition you could ever lead. 
A.: ‘The Ukraine’ is an emergency podcast. Thousands could be saved if they obeyed the call. Let alone the 
       infrastructure. Yet they prefer to die for their father’s grave triggering a world war? My empathy’s 
       running thin. All we are saying is to give future a chance. If it’s stronger, let it rule. History is a tale of  
       endless reproduction. Should be brought to a halt instantaneously.
Q.: Your trite allegorica won’t impress the apoliteic youth. Moral dictatorship is to nobody’s gusto. The 
       palatine ruling class of technocracy won’t be enchanted by the Platonic paean of an aggressive agnostic 
       with no detectable background. There’s no room for your apathetic bathos on the free marketplace.
A.: Senseless wars of parochial autonomy only prolong the reign of Hell over the fragmented hemisphere.
      The Purgatory must be liberated. In a bloodshed like this nobody’s innocent. Only traitors will be forgiven. 
Q.: Tell this to NATO and you’ll be hanged higher than Saddam Hussein. Collective individualism has no
      entry in the dictionary of oxymorons. It’s only in your Proudhonist egghead.
A.: What I am dreaming of is ultrasocialist. All-out annihilation of the oligarchy. Burning yachts and 
       frozen assets. Violent redistribution of the common wealth amidst the meritocracy. Basic income for 
       everyone who deserves it. And martial law on impropriety. An unequivocal victory of the mutant class. 
Q.: You’d better wake up by my opinion. Peoples are made in the likeness of their gods. War is their element, 
       no matter what they say. Your anarchist sanguinity won’t dazzle natural-born warriors out for the kill. 
A.: Putin has to win. He’s got no other choice. Or else he’ll end up in The Hague like the poor Milosevic. 
      Only America has the right to impose liberty. Even Trump thinks he went mad. The Donald would never 
      bomb Texas. I’m gonna tweet my clip to his Facebook like a true fanatic. And also to his nemesis I truly
      appreciate. I put Volodymir amidst my heroes of the year too, alongside Jean-Luc Brunel and the Truckers.
Q.: Just to prove how unbiased you are, I guess. But after all it is pure eye-wash for nothing. No one will 
      appreciate the amateur solidarity of an unregistered voter. Just another gratuitous sublimation for the
      extinguished altar. The conspiration remains illusory. And we’ll die alone.
A.: In any case, I have paid my duty. My conscience is clear. I have 30 views by now. Though no comments 
      as usual. But I’m waiting alright. I’ve sent the link to my favorite sons. To Russell Brand three times in a
      row. God is now here. I can go to sleep with the perfume of traitors.