Here are the abominations, bozotic poems and good poems.

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Subject: Stikhi ob armii, ptichkakh i der'me.
Date: 7 Apr 95 12:32:23 GMT

* * *
``Razreshite obratit'sya?'',-ya sprosil u komandira.
``Razreshayu, obraschajtes''', - mne otvetil komandir.
I ya tut zhe obratilsya v golubuyu pticu mira,
I vsporkhnul emu na plechi,
I nagadil na mundir.

Disclaimer: stikh ne moj. Prosto ponravilsya

(from an artcile by Vadim Savvateev)

These objects d'art were posted to the Usenet newsgroup soc.culture.soviet


Stikhi Pro Mutlu.

For those interested in background of ``Stikhi Pro Mutlu'', here is a little breakdown on Hasan B-) Mutlu.


Here is a poem by Patricia Margaret Schwartz (transliterated Russian). PMS was an American feminist (and a wife of a famous physicist) who posted to Soviet newsgroup, mostly about Bulgakov and Russian underground (by which she understood the Novyi Mir editorial board). She was a newsgroup personality at large, who used to spent her riches in Russia. She often posted from here. I found her admirable, but she was impossibly naive and never read the newsgroup she posted to. Once she wrote a short article from Moscow, ALL IN CAPS, complaining about lack of tampons. All kinds of politically correct Soviet emigres started reprimanding her at her lack of decency (a decent woman has no right to speak of such thing, if you knowhatImean). She later found that she had miscarriage, and as a matter of fact blamed it on non-sensitive Soviet males from the newsgroup (who were making assholes of themselves all along). She also used to write, matter-of-factly, convoluted stories about how she was raped (as a young woman) and molested by her father (as a child). This was a bit of background necessary for proper understanding of ``poetry'', which I find very good.

Pro krokodila.

Here is a satire on esteemed Patricia (see above) posted by Alexandre Kostomaroff, the author of odes to Mutlu (see above). Peter Vorobieff claims that this poem belongs to Sasha Chernyi.

Alexei Khrabrov.

A brave new poet. Here his protuberant vision pierces the veil of illusion surrounding the ordinary existence. Here are more works of Khrabrov, salvaged from the never-sated jaws of a Usenet newsreader. For more of his work, check Serge Vinnitsky's homepage (this page is invalid -- October 96).


With kudos to Anatoly Vorobey (, who sent me more poems by Fligenko. I am equally indebted to Alexander Burshtein, who also sent me his Fligenko files. Burshtein's own writing is also recommended. Alexander now has a homepage, called Grafomania with a lot of his works.

Another Fligenko archive is found on Leonid Delitsyn's homepage. By the state on May 5 1995, Delitsyn's archives mostly coinsided with that found in my and Vorobey's directories, but lacked chronological order. Here are some of Delitsyn's files, (rearranged, cleaned-up and slightly HTML-ed). There is also an unofficial homepage of Fligenko, maintained by Anatoly Vorobey. Also recommended: The Expancive Chease Spred Immitation homepage, courtesy of Mikhail Samuilovich Panikovsky.

If you saved the articles that I don't have, please let me know.

Textology of Fligenko archives.

The poems in Vorobey's archive were posted between 17 Jul 1994 and 23 Aug 1994, plus an extra one dated by 23 Mar 1995. My own archive contains poems posted between 27 Sep 1994 and 9 Nov 1994, with inclusion of an extra item dated 27 Feb 1995. The files of Burshtein contain 14 articles posted between 31 Jan 1995 and 8 July 1995, plus a number of related imitations. Finally, my edition of Delitsyn's archives contains a couple of verses from 1994 (dated by 28 Jul 1994 and 8 Aug 1994 - later one being Fligenko's long-lost masterpiece, ``Puziko''), plus four poems from 1995, posted between 21 Feb 1995 and 1 Apr 1995.

And a lot of random stuff.

Here is transliterated Russian version of Luka Mudishchev by Ivan Semenovich Barkov. A collection of Barkov (complete with biography) is found at gopher, together with some other pornography: Banya by A. N. Tolstoy and Ochered', by Vladimir Sorokin. Here is a local copy of Ochered'. Also, for ye frog-lovers, les Chants de Maldoror by Isidore Ducasse.

The expression of a total revelation which seems to surpass human capacities"
- André Breton
One who does not love pornography is uncomplete.

Maldoror, Part I, Chapter 7.

``I have made a pact with Prostitution to sow disorder in families. I remember the night which preceded this dangerous liaison. Before me I saw a tombstone. I heard a glow-worm, big as a house, say to me: `I will give you the light you need. Read the inscription. It is not from me that this supreme order comes.' A vast blood-coloured light, at the sight of which my jaws clacked and my nads fell inert, suffused the air as far as the horizon. I learned against a ruined wall, for I was about to fall, and read: `Here lies a youth who died of consumption: you know why. Do not pray for him.' Not many men perhaps would have shown such courage as I did. Meanwhile, a beautiful naked woman came and lay down at my feet. Sadly, I said to her, `You can get up.' And I held out to her the hand with which the fratricide slits his sister's throat. The shining worm, to me: `You, take a stone and kill her.' `Why?' I asked. And it said to me: `Beware, look to your safety, for you are the weaker and I the stronger. Her name is Prostitution.' With tears in my eyes and my heart full of rage, I felt an unknown strength rising within me. I took hold of a huge stone; after many attempts, I managed to lift it as far as my chest. Then, with my arms, I put it on my shoulders. I climbed the mountain until I reached the top: from there, I hurled the stone on to the shining worm, crushing it. Its head was thrust six feet into the ground, a man's height; the stone rebounded as high as six churches. Then it fell down again into a lake, and for a moment the water-level, eddying, dropped as the sinking stone created an immense inverted cone. The surface became calm again; the blood-red light ceased to shine. `Alas! alas!' the naked woman exclaimed. `What have you done?' I said to her: `I prefer you to him. Because I pity the unhappy. It is not your fault that eternal justice has created you.' And she said: `One day men will do me justice; I will say no more to you. Let me go and hide my infinite sadness at the bottom of the sea. Only you, and the hideous monsters who swarm in those black depths, do not despise me. You are good. Adieu, you who have loved me.' I, to her: `Adieu, once more adieu! I will always love you From today, I abandon virtue.' And that is why, oh you peoples of the earth, when you hear the winter wind moaning on the sea and by its shores, or above the large towns which have long been in mourning for me, or across the cold polar regions, say: `It is not God's spirit passing over us: it is only the shrill sigh of Prostitution in unison with the deep groans of the Montevidean.' Children, it is I who say this to you. Then, full of mercy, kneel down. And let men, more numerous than lice, say long prayers. ''

I call your attention to the humongous song lyrics archive, courtesy of Russian Club of MIT. KOI-8 encoding is used throughout. The programs handling KOI-8 can be found on Sovinformbyuro, courtesy of Vadim Maslov.

A link to a list of highly bozotic invocations known as KSP, on Sema Hawkin's home page. Some claim that KSP was invented in pagan past of proto-Slavic peoples as a way to pacify Shub-Nigurrath, The Black Goat Of Thousand Young. Like all Ways, this Way is also a Gate, and woe on one who opens it unheeded. Be it known that all Gates are One.

``All numbers are infinite, there is no difference.'' -- Liber AL, I.4

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