Mysterious Russian Soul

I had almost forgotten about my Ukranian blog buddy Crazy Ivan. He had to go underground last year when Russia invaded. But I see he has managed to post some of his wonderful broken prose recently. From the Russian it goes like this...

~About the mysterious Russian soul~
"Granted that I took my keyboard and plunged into the cauldron of absurd reality, where naivete and fearlessness play in clear contradiction with the geopolitical madness. Let's take a closer look at this mosaic psychosis, which, like a whirlwind, takes us into a world of persecution of logic and the suppression of everything reasonable.
What the Russian people are really good for is their familiarity. Two hundred years ago, the great Saltykov-Shchedrin (image below) wrote that the task of the authorities is to keep the people in a state of constant amazement. He, perhaps, thought that he was joking so subtly and bitterly, and meanwhile the authorities took this rule into service, and for two hundred years of unceasing amazement developed in the Russian people a total immunity to this feeling. And then, of course, it was our turn to be amazed.
They cannot be defeated in the sense that they do not understand the meaning of the words victory and defeat. And this is a kind of wisdom, because for them victory from defeat will be no different. Victory - they will go home to thump, and the authorities will take all the money from them in the form of taxes. Defeat - they will go home to thump, and NATO will take all the money from them in the form of reparations.
And here, my dear friends, comes the moment of truth. What is all this madness about? The answer is simple: in the Russian habit of being indifferent. For two centuries now, they have been patiently catapulting from reality to reality, like drunken acrobats in a circus arena, where yesterday Kiev was burned in a day, and today they live in a world where everything that remains of the Black Sea Fleet is trying to hide from sea drones, and the film "Barbie" can, if you're lucky, watch in the Saratov cinema in a not very bad pirate screen.
Forget about the rest of the world - that's their secret to happiness. They, like the heroes of Amber, jump over the edge of perception, swaying between realities, like a drunken clown on a high spire. And what drives them? And nothing but fearlessness. They allow themselves to fall into the nirvana of the unknown, for they know that nothing has changed, nothing will change. So they live, plowing the expanses of their insensitivity.
Capture Kyiv in three days? Yes of course.
Let's surrender Kherson? Yes of course.
Will Prigogine take Rostov and go to the Kremlin in a tank? Well, yes, it is logical.
Drones will fuck up in Moscow City? Well, yes, that's how it should be.
Yes, they do not give in to delight, because they have long ago moved the arrows in their internal indicator of surprise. Now they, like the captains of the Black Sea Fleet, who drowned everything in a puddle, confidently nod their heads, realizing that victory and defeat are just jokes in the palette of their indifference.
And the day will come when the Trident will be erected over the Kremlin. The day when the planet will be shocked by the genius of the Russian strategy: "First we lose in order to try to win later!" After all, only a Russian can easily translate the saying "pull a star from the sky" into reality, calmly sitting on the couch with a pack of seeds.
Trident? Above the Kremlin The policeman now beats not because you have a Ukrainian flag, but because you do not have a Ukrainian flag? Well, yes, it is logical.
All that remains is to call for respect and admiration. Respect for their magnificent ability to remain indifferent to everything that falls on their tiny world. Admiration for this masterful game without surprise, for this soul dancing on the verge of absurdity, which may not be amazed, but does not plunge into the abyss of the unknown.
Maybe it's their defense, their armor, their way of not being overwhelmed by either victory or defeat. After all, for them the meaning of the words was lost in this whirlwind of apathy, and they just watch the whole performance with a smile on their faces.
Perhaps this is because they have long since lost their souls. Without a soul it is impossible to be amazed"

The Psych Ward

I did end up in the psyche ward once. The ex wife took me in. The doctor came out with his clipboard, asked me a bunch of questions, wrote stuff down.‘
"Any thoughts of killing yourself"
“No not too much”
‘Are you doing any illegal drugs”
“Yes”
“What kind?”
“Meth mostly”
“What does that do for you?”
“Makes me feel good, and funny. I’m funnier on meth”
“A comedian?” he asked.
“Yes, kind of” I said and he wrote something on his clip board.
“Do you ever drive while you are using?”
“Yes, all the time”
“Don’t you think that’s dangerous?
“No”
And he wrote something down on his clipboard.
“If you have been up all night, and you get in the car to drive the kids somewhere, you don’t think that’s dangerous”
“No, not really doc”
And I thought about it for a few seconds and added
“You know the dope I do, that’s the same dope they give fighter pilots”
The doc looked at me over the tops of his glasses and said “Oh, so you are a fighter pilot now” and wrote something on his clipboard.

Desperate in Fort Worth

 Dear Meow Town Kitty Rescue

I am desperately seeking help with a population of feral cats. I have lived here almost four years. The lady next door is an invalid. In addition to having a house full of cats, her mother fed a whole bunch of feral cats from her driveway when she would come to visit. These cats like to use my yard as a litter box. Regularly I am overrun with feral cats. They probably produce three to four litters a year. I have put up with it for almost four years.

Two weeks ago the lady next door died. The house is now vacant. The lady's mother is no longer able to come and feed these feral cats. I thought that would be the end of it. Without food and water the cats would disperse. Now the lady across the street has taken upon herself to feed them. She brings food and water into the driveway next door.

I spent several hours this week researching what, if anything, I can do about this. My plan was to trap spay and neuter. And return, which everything I read says will help control the population. After several hours of research I find it this would be difficult for me to do. The schedule of the free clinic is sporadic at best. I have called animal control and complained about this lady across the street feeding and watering the cats. As of today I'm not sure what if anything can be done about that. It hard to tell if it is illegal or not to feed feral cats. I'm told that it is.

I did suggest to the lady across the street that if she wanted to operate a 24/7 cat feeding station she should do it from her own driveway instead of my neighbors vacant house.

Of course she declined. A friend of mine that loves cats said she is probably worried about the cats having to cross the street. I told them yes that would make two things, the other one being she doesn't want all those cats at HER house.

One of the suggestions the humane society and animal control websites have is to contact a cat rescue. So that is what I'm doing. My yard smells like a litter box. On hot and humid days it's horrible. Is there anything here you can do for me?

Thank you for your consideration;

bulletholes

TURNING THE WORLD AROUND

I like it when I go to Sonic Drive Thru, and the girl taking my order sounds like she is new, and she stumbles over the order a little bit (unsweet raspberry ice tea, easy ice) and when she comes out the door I can see that she is worried, tentative, maybe her last customer was mean, but she comes out the door, she's frowning and uptight, she looks up and sees me, and I give her my biggest best smile. I can see the worry melt off her face, her shoulders relax and now she is smiling too, she gets to the car and I give her my best hello and thank you, now she's half laughing happy and relieved and says your welcome and confidently skips back to the door, what a great day at work she must be thinking. Its not much, but its good to know you can have that kind of power -- to turn the world around, upside down even-- if you just pay attention to someone besides yourself.

SHE ROLLED HER EYES

I went through the Burger King drive through yesterday.
“I’d like the #1 Whopper with no cheese, no ketchup, and extra veges. Fries and a diet coke.”
“Would you like cheese on that?” they always ask.
Always always always.
Sometimes they will interrupt me right after I say “”the #1 Whopper” to ask about the cheese.
I try to remain polite and repeat for them:
“No cheese, thank you, and no ketchup, with extra vege's. Fries. And a diet coke”
They will repeat the part about the cheese and ketchup, but usually they get hung up on vege's.
“Is that like the pickles?” they ask.
“Yes, pickles, tomato lettuce and onion”
They repeat back “ Pickles, tomato and lettuce”
“And onion” I remind them “with a diet coke and fries.”
But now its time to revisit Ketchup.
“The Whopper already comes with Ketchup” they say.
“Right. No ketchup for me please”
But by now I am a little worn out and I’m starting to lose patience. So when there is a 10 second stretch of silence as they ponder what a vegetable is, and then ask me again “Would you like cheese on that?” even though I know they are hard-wired programmed to ask me about cheese because cheese is a little confusing, there is always a lot of confusion over cheese, especially when you order a cheeseburger and ask for no cheese, which doesn't happen to be the case right now, but one can never be too sure about cheese, I’m probably not all sweetness and light when I scream “NO! NO CHEESE”.
Then when they ask what kind of drink, and if I want "fries with that" it just about does it for me because “”the #1 Whopper” includes fries at least in theory.
I’ve learned to take a deep breath, and in the softest most angelic voice I have “Oh! I would love a diet coke. And yes, fries would be nice.”.
But yesterday. Yesterday. Let me tell you about yesterday.
After going through this exercise and getting to the window they weren’t done with me yet.
She handed me the bag and I asked if she had put ketchup in there for me.
“I thought you said “NO Ketchup” she says, obviously perturbed.
“Right. No ketchup on the burger.”
“So you want ketchup NOW? she says.
“Yes please, for my fries”
And that’s when she rolled her eyes. She really did.
She rolled her eyes.
But that’s OK. I figure I deserve it.
All those times at the Jack-in-the Box on lunch break with your 3 very stoned friends, 1975. The driver rolls down the window, smoke pours out.
Jack: “Can I take your order?”
Driver: “Ummm, yeah man, what did you want?”
Backseat #1:“A coke, a super taco, and some fries”
Backseat # 2 “ Lemme have a Whataburger with no pickles and a shake and onion rings”
Driver “Dude we are at Jack in the Box”
Backseat #2 “Huh?” (muffled laughter)
Driver: “Dude, I’m trying to order, we are at Jack-in-the Box, get a fucking grip”
Backseat #2 “Is that where they have the big Macs?” (car explodes with laughter)
And it just goes downhill from there, right?
Once you started laughing, that was it.
How we didn’t starve, I don’t know.