Tuesday 2 December 2008

Fabulous comment regarding: "Vladimir Vysotsky - Variacii na tsyganskie temy" - anyone care to comment back?

I don't have time-i have to go and get my nails done in a fancy salon, pick my son up from his private tuition sessions in russian propaganda and then go and rub shoulders with the rich and famous at Kings...

Vysotsky was an anti-government campaigner who some say was killed by KGB bastards for saying the truth! Others say he died of a drugs overdose. His sad songs are full of repression and misery caused by the awful Stalinist regime in the so-called USSR (it was not a Union, not soviet, not Socialist and not a Republic):
In my dream - yellow lights, wheezing in my sleep; a while longer, a whole longer, In the morning I'll be fine! But in the morning everything's wrong, The joy is gone; Either you smoke on an empty stomach, Or you quench a hangover. Hey one, yes once again; Hey one, yes many-many more times... In the bars; green tablecloths And white napkins. Heaven for the poor and slobs, But for me - like a bird in a cage
Taverns have green drinks with spice, Tissues white and crimson. It's the paupers' paradise, But to me - a prison. Church is full of smoke and soot, Deans on weed have gotten. No! Religion is not good: All is bad and rotten.

I ascend a hilly slope, Of mischance am wary. Alter-trees are at the top, Downhill -- a cherry. Clothe the hillside with a vine -- All to me is better. Could at least some things be fine To improve the matter?

Translation not by me...
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Hey Clare,

Nice choice of music. Who knows what he is singing about, right?

The sad part about you is that most of the time you have no idea what you are talking about.. I don't think I can imagine you not living in your OXO tower penthouse.. being able to ONLY listen to music that has hidden or blatant brainwashing communist messages and nothing else, waiting in a queue for luxuries such as bananas for 5 hours in the cold, having to eat vegetables for months because there is no meat available in supermarkets, not being able to go to university because a distant family member is against the communist party, being IDed and bullied by officials and police all the time, not being able to go travel anywhere without official special permission.. the list goes on forever, these are just the relatively nice bits my parents had to go through, and then risked their lives whilst escaping to a democratic country where no matter how poor, they would still be treated as human beings.

Do us all (who actually have some direct or indirect experience with real not theoretical bullshit communism and socialism) a favour and just focus your rants against more acute situations such as Palestine and Sudan.

Thanks, have a nice day. Anonymous in Nottingham

3 comments:

Anonymous said...

Anonymous - I think you are just being unfairly critical of Clare. This interpretation of Vladmir's life for me shows the contradictions that we all have. The truth and lies, real and fake in all of us just as the day to day experience that we all go through. His lifestyle - a fake, lie lifestyle.
His inner sense of justice - the truth and real life. The contradictions in human behaviour.

Some people, both poor and rich have no sense of truth, hence will lie with every word they utter.
Others, both poor and rich know the truth but have no way of chanelling it. Some of these people don't have the conscience to keep them awake at night. Others, like Vladmir feel inprisoned and suffocated by this knowing the truth and inability to express themselves either in fear of their class or in fear for their lives.

I don't know anything about Vladmir, but I know the suffocation and the prison I lived in as a poor black country girl under an apartheid system which was based on lies.
I know the suffocation and prison I lived in surrounded by material wealth and rich pretentious so called friends unable to express my disgust at their blindness and total oblivion to the truth of their empirial ancestors's plunder of this world which was driven by their greed that still manifests itself among this generation.

I had no way of channelling this anger, hence lived a pretentious life inprisoned by my knowing the truth and my life which was based on lies. It is worse than living in hell, even religion failed to intoxicate me in both cases. Capitalism does that I am afraid - stifle the voice of truth in both poor and rich.
It is always best not to judge a book by its cover!

rob said...

You could write a long answer about state capitalism explaining why the USSR was never socialist or you can always just ignore the right-wing troll.

Tigger Kakashka said...

In thinking you "understand" or "can relate" or whatever other way you all are trying to say "I get it! And by the way me too!"... I dunno. I don't think any of us get it. I don't get it. Its just beautiful art that hits incomprehensible nodes in everyone's core, in their "truth" as you want to call it. You can't tie it back to communism and politics even though sure that stuff influences it. If you know anything about Russian mentality / behavior - its a culture of silence and frustration. Silence not in the literal sense that they don't talk. They just silently took their "punishment" in the form of life. Life was very difficult as they were being told that all is fair (socialism) while nothing FELT fair. But no one could explicitly say it (esp Vysotsky's generation) because then they'd be sent to Siberia or worse (my great uncle, grandmother's brother, was left in a cellar for 3 days and the rats ate him. oops. he was there because he owned land and grew fruit on it and sold it. A business, which was illegal). So here you have a song about how just nothing feels right. For whatever fucking reason. And the funny thing about humans is that no matter what their class / economic environment is (rich, poor, dirty, clean), they constantly question whether they are "really happy" and constantly struggle with addictions and escapes that will help them not think such things. But you keep living. And thats the hypocrisy / confusion. "how can i go on" you ask as you keep going on. And that's the tragedy. That's Sisyphus. That's why you cry when his raspy voice says "its not right. not the church. not the wild boar. nothing's holy."