Here are the abominations, bozotic poems and
good poems.
This page is under construction.
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From: vadims@vms.huji.ac.il
Subject: Stikhi ob armii, ptichkakh i der'me.
Date: 7 Apr 95 12:32:23 GMT
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``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
Contents
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.
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.
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 (c0864151@techst02.technion.ac.il),
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
Infomeister.osc.edu 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.
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The expression of a total revelation
which seems to surpass human capacities"
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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
Return to my home page.