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Many years ago

I remember lying awake in a country house.

Grandma snoring,

her blanket billowed like a mountain

under which a volcano sleeps.

And outside there was a storm.

I couldn't fall asleep.

The darkness

outside the window was terrifying.

Even though I knew there was nothing there.

The strange creaking,

frightening grated on my nerves.

It seemed to me that a beast
was prowling around the house.

A bear

sharpens it's enormous claws

on the logs of our house.

They're thick,

but he's looking for a way to sneak inside.

Breathing through his rough nose,

exhaling steam

from giant black nostrils.

I saw him as if he was real.

I knew it was just my imagination.

I've been told there are no ghosts,

and what's a bear doing here?

But the forest is close.

Rationality didn't save little me

from the frightening present.

This place evoked some strange associations

with something I had never known before.

Fragments of memory, somehow.

Residual phrases

phenomena.

I wanted to breathe but couldn't.

In this dusty hall,

covered in cobwebs. It's like

a mummy damaged by intrusion

and, therefore frightening.

In these mirrors

I saw the reflections of others,

and at the same time my own.

How terrifying it was

and how natural.

Natural.

Naturalness is the most

terrifying thing in the world.

It seemed so to me.

As natural is the cold,

as natural is the darkness,

so natural is the existence of fear.

I exist,

therefore I think I exist...

when I'm thinking.

It may happen that I'm not thinking,

but I exist

and it is not worth it for me to be.

And maybe there are only illusions,

errors

and Matrix.

Comrades,

the Palace of the Seafarers was

a shining example of Soviet architecture,

a symbol of power and influence of our

great Homeland.

But now

as I look around

I see only emptiness and decay.

The ideals that once inspired us

are now forgotten.

But I'm not joking here.

I am not here to mourn the past.

I am here to remind you

the struggle for a better world never ends.

System error.

Communism not found.

Please reboot and try again,

reboot and try again.

What the hell kind of culture?

I started my journey from Obvodny canal.

I love this place.

Probably because not many do.

In summer it's not as radiant

as the Fontanka River.

It's always viscous and slow,

and it's banks are not lined

with fancy colorful houses.

It is a celebration of industrialization,

cutting through two shores where

factories once grew,

those that are now crumbling and

melting like snowmen
in positive temperature.

It perfectly matches my mood.

My journey took me to a square

by the Neva embankment,

where street theater actors

lived their amazing life.

Here I felt both at ease and merry.

I imagined how exultant
a human soul could be.

Alongside others.

There is something beyond

individual in these wonderful performances,

deeply collective, yet not imposed.

Something that could
be called folk, perhaps.

These actors,

this bone-chilling cold

cannot penetrate their masks

and my warm down jacket with mittens.

I prepared thoroughly,

and I laughed, and laughed and laughed!

And everyone around thought me a fool,

probably.

Maybe they were laughing with me,

believing in the reality of spring

that will come after this white snow.

Actors were taking off their masks

and I wanted to stay

a little longer in this world

without an inevitable end,

where people are not enemies to each other.

Where there's still hope for happiness.

Sometimes it's worth clinging to illusions.

Sometimes you need
to think with your heart,

not your head.

Smart people

like to predict all sorts of horrors,

unable to come to terms

with just aging and

losing touch with the real world.

Sometimes you have to go with the flow,

seize the opportunities that come your way,

and to believe in, you know,

that what you're doing isn't meaningless.

And that's often enough.

But behind any simplicity lies a mystery.

Nothing in this world happens by chance.

And anyone can surprise if you look

into the faces of those you meet,

knowing that simplification
is often an evil.

Label less.

This is the 18th century mansion,

one of the few remaining.

I could talk a lot about its history,

but for what?

I remembered Mandelstam's words:

All the elegant mirage of Petersburg

was merely a dream,

a brilliant covering

thrown over the abyss.

And I thought how unfair that is.

You built your world brick by brick.

Then it collapses and you start over,

but the wall...

It does not get demolished

to the foundation.

Something always remains.

And now,

you've erected a monument to yourself

that doesn't reflect reality.

It's all just appearances,

and you're still as small as before.

All right ladies and gentlemen

let's slowly start.

As there are many of you and few of us.

Ligovskiy prospect is famous

for various things,

including Pushkinskaya 10.

Come rain or shine,

in this land of highs and lows.

Where the Empire of Evil grows,

each of us a coward knows.

This elite club admits everyone who comes.

That's a joke of course.

They're serious poets.

Well, some of them.

What can poetry mean without a reader,

or in this case without an audience?

Whether it's somebody throwing pearls

or just meaningless word juggling,

It's for you to decide.

What kind of questions,

what kind of pose?

Rest in the deity, wright prose.

Greetings to cirrhosis.

We sell poems even on Avito.

With a wild dance of St. Vitus.

No one is forgotten, nothing is forgotten.

The internet remembers everything,

manuscripts do not burn.

Blood even the most crimson.

After an hour it's just earth.

Blood becomes the norm,

like sticky fear.

It's not about who's the vassel,

who's sucked up for gain,

whom the homeland's pump did drain.

And in the meantime, perhaps,

that happiness isn't far,

it's not about money

or how many women at the bar.

But look around, look around,

pray that in a fortnight's span,

those beside you won't be halved,

a dwindling clan.

You are most likely familiar

with the story about Theseus.

It's known that to save the city

a young man and woman

were sacrificed to the monster.

But strictly speaking,

they were offered not as monsters,

but sent as tribute to King Minos.

This tribute was seven boys

and seven girls every eight years.

Doesn't it seem to you that Elders

throughout history have been sacrificing

youths for the so-called "common good"?

Well, the so-called common good is

a blessing from the
perspective of only the elderly.

Because I think among these wonderful

young men and women, that's

by the way, I think it
was even in the myth,

were boys and girls who didn't go there

with open arms.

In general, the peculiarity

of people who are always a bit older,

standing at the forefront of society,

it seems as though
historically conditioned,

that it is some ruler.

He's getting older, and while he is aging,

there are younger people in the country,

I suspect.

And the ruler slightly
loses touch with them.

And naturally at that moment

when someone is older

tells the younger ones
that they are obliged,

owe something,

that it is their duty to leave somewhere:

well, that's violence, that's violence.

Very interestingly correlates with

what's happening today,

not only in Russia, but generally

all over the world.

I'll remind you that poets
have a small problem.

They are often misunderstood.

Do you dig my verses, bros.

Clear to little girls and boys.

Is it Feng Shui, or is it white noise.

Hello, Joker! Why so serious?

I've measured out poetry in heads or tails,

I grin in Skyrim's "Fus Ro Dah!"

Everything will perish

Covered under beard and blemish,

Blue Beard. Duh.

Are you a homie, Or are you a normie?

Are you mainstream or are you underground?

The truth easily found. What am I allowed?

One-man protest.

Putting the critical

Venom to practical test.

Life's full of tangles like a Pomeranian

Sorrowful Christ before ascending.

Hank Moody's talking cranium

Caricature of Yesenin.

Edmund Kean: debauchery of the libertine.

There are more memes

than memoranda about Kremleen!

Where's the lie, where's the proof?

The trickster comes to no good!

In hundreds of faces
– versifier, versi-liar

Plutocrat, not Cobain, Vonnegut.

Your robe is embroidered with ignorance,

Where did you get the fonts,

where did you get the funds?

You're a caliph for an
hour, Harun al-Rashid.

But that's not a prank of a genie.

This is Gleb Druzhinin.

But we're now in a
slightly different situation,

don't you think?

Raindrops of blood
started falling on my head.

Odysseus from Odessa leaves his motherland.

Your bunny hop won't gain,

won't gain you applause

To get you out of Roskomnadzor’s claws.

Meanwhile all your evolution, ovulation,

constitution, declamation, prostitution,

deformation, defloration, desecration.

Screwing around and bouffonaire

Won't help you grow an iron pair.

It would be absurd

To write nothing at all, mum's the word.

"He, who has ears to hear, let him hear!"

Even if eyeflapped,

ear-plugged and staring into TV.

Kings found in a cabbage patch

Are devoured in a potlatch,

Buried, and then there's nothing more.

D'you think you're Charon, bro?

At best you are Karen
from the grocery store!

And when Pavel Durov conquers Barad-Dur,

As well as Minas Morgul, Ephel Duath,

Cirith Ungol, "Ash nazg durbatuluk,

ash nazg thrakatuluk,
Ash tran nazg thrakatulu

kazg burzum-ishi krimpatul!"

Burns with the evil grandpa in Mount Doom,

And thus restoring art

Rewinding time mainsprings

Only then we will be able to write

Of cabbages and kings.

I wandered through the places

of past fantasies.

At one time, it was planned

to move the center of St Petersburg here.

Right here, they embodied their nostalgia

for the empire in the Empire style.

There's something captivating in this.

St Petersburg is irretrievably beautiful

and full of empty space.

So сold,

yet inviting you to take your place.

Without you, the square will be lonely.

After all I kept walking,

overwhelmed by various thoughts.

Questions.

Just questions and not a single answer.

Are rules made to be broken?

Or do we just like to think that way?

Maybe it's an excuse for the

unimaginable things happening in this world

that we can't control and explain.

Power wanders through space

and takes up residence

in whatever it encounters on its journey.

This reel is dedicated to a contest that

took place on the eve of the new century,

reinterpreting monuments
of a bygone world view.

The first project proposed

to renovate mausoleum on Red Square,

adding "I-S-M" to the existing text.

Thereby transforming the mausoleum into

a monument to an outdated regime

rather than to its leader.

There were options to let pink flamingos

stroll around the top

or to display a scrolling ticker with the

latest news or advertisements.

The second project,

"One Step Forward, Two
Steps Back", addressed

an equally significant Soviet-era monument.

The Worker and the Kolkhoz Woman by Mukhina

were proposed to be placed

on a movable pedestal.

So the characters would constantly

move forward and freeze over the abyss,

unable to make the final leap.

The third project is
dedicated to Karl Marx;

according to the artist's idea,

his monument should be upside down,

as if demonstrating what Marks himself

did with Hegelian dialectics.

...and young October is in Hell.

Ladies and gentlemen,

thank you for your attention.

All right the piece is
called "Short Barrels".

In violence doth violence find its birth!

Yet we, for love, do stand!

For tender nose-rubbings,
in affection's mirth.

Yes, thank you. Now we want to explain

why we are proposing the legalization of

short barreled firearms.
We believe our model...

I wanted to dissolve into ignorance,

but ended up in the
most enlightening place.

And what to do with people

who have administrative penalties

for example for some violent actions?

On such calls even cops don't show up.

Again considering the notorious mentality,

many women won't even go to file an

administrative fine against their husband.

We are talking about that in Russia

there are some imperfect systems,

but they are still unnecessary, that is,

we cannot get rid of concepts like

"medical examination".

Considering that
psychiatric evaluation at least

in free clinics is conducted half ass,

pardon my language.

If Russia adopts a law
on restraining orders,

then it is possible,
in principle, to ensure

that a person against whom this measure

was applied is deprived of weapons.

He might have killed his wife and children,

and then you take away his weapon?

In Russia there are admittedly

imperfect institutions, but...

Freedom to men, freedom to arms.

He didn't even repeat much, and you've

covered everything, so
there are no questions

left for the next round.
So, I'll ask the judges.

Sweet nice people talking about

important things...

In those faces I read
a thirst for knowledge,

that I had long since lost.

I started to think about
how alive one can be

while talking about things that bring death

at this very minute.

I listened... I thought...

I knew what I was thinking,

and I knew I wouldn't speak today...

And it was nice just to stay an observer.

Good evening.

Please answer a couple of questions.

Go ahead.

In the movie "Forrest
Gump" the main character

compares life to a box
of chocolates, saying:

"you never know what you're going to get".

If each country were a box of chocolates,

which one do you think our this?

I think the same way as in "Forrest Gump".

You never know what will
happen to you tomorrow.

That is, you can pick one candy, but

tomorrow won't unfold
like it did in that candy.

Russia is a very unpredictable country.

In other words in a box where

all sweets are different?

Sometimes someone else adds

another layer of filling on top.

Which one represents our country

at least approximately?

I don't know it's like

if you specifically take
candies, then it's like

a candy that has a lot of feelings.

At first glance it's one
thing. You take a bite,

it's another. And then
the after taste is the third.

And you don't know what will happen next.

Do you consider short barreled firearms

to be a more effective
means of self-defense

than pepper spray or a pneumatic pistol?

No, I don't believe that short barreled

weapons are even more effective,

because not everyone is ready to shoot

in a way that they are
not in a state of effect.

Fact that a person will have a pistol

in a holster and everyone will see it.

Do you not consider this to be a

deterrent factor initially?

There is an effect among people

who have never killed before,

that they are scared to shoot.

And this fear can hinder them.

Whatever...

Even if a person learned to shoot,

he will likely struggle

to pull the trigger in that situation.

In the end his gun will be useless.

Using pepper spray is much simpler,

because a person knows in advance

that nothing serious will happen.

All right criminals.

You said criminals will be able to buy...

I listed the models for you.

No.

No you said criminals can buy.

Criminal history. You won't be allowed...

Why in a holster? It's stored in a safe.

And if we return again to the Moldova case,

why is it so relevant...
Because the legalization

of firearms in this country
occurred immediately

after a strong bloody military conflict.

We can draw parallels
with Russia especially

considering that, and
it is yet another very

important example, that after the end,

any conclusion of
special military operation,

the amount of weapons on the black market

in Russia inevitably increases and...

It is already happened.

Yes, this always happens after all military

conflicts. Therefore we believe that it is

better for the government to take control

of the situation.

This implies that it could be legalized,

but the crime rate might not rise

or could even fall.

Because people wouldn't buy it on mass,

due to its inaccessibility.

In the Lithuania case we have shown that

the number of registered firearms

has significantly increased.

And simultaneously with
the increase in firearms,

the crime rate has begun to decrease.

Maybe just regulate the black market.

Somehow the government doesn't

regulate corruption.

Somehow nobody regulates

the black market for drugs.

And why would they
start regulating weapons?

For instance take the United Kingdom,

where gun laws are very strict.

Currently only shotguns
can be legally carried.

In fact, if we look at
the situation in London,

why is there an
epidemic of knife attacks...

Because the United Kingdom has

very strict firearms legislation.

There are two countries
South Sudan and Yemen.

Their citizens can basically have anything:

M16, M60 and so on.

And meanwhile there, as for crime rate,

you know I think there's
nothing even to discuss.

I'll remind you, there's a civil war

going on in both countries.

Moreover, every day in London someone

gets stabbed, and this
is not an exaggeration.

It is literally statistic.

Criminals will start
attacking people anyway.

Well, they will find it even,

if short barrel weapons are legal.

But then citizens will have the

opportunity to defend themselves.

It is already in our country now.

It's insufficient. We want to ensure that

the capabilities of the
person being attacked

are equal, or at least roughly equal,

to those of the attackers.

And note, this isn't about
the turnover of weapons.

So it's not some mechanic.
You didn't manage

to file something. It's the use of weapons.

Totally, here we go
again with this mistake.

Probably one, that both supporters and

opponents of firearms make every time.

They start envisioning some future scenario

and making own assumptions about

how one person will behave.

Oh I'll grabb the pistol in half

a second just like Jerry Miculek.

And then someone else says... but what if

ninja puts a tanto to your throat.

You won't have time to grab the pistol.

When discussions reach that level,

it makes me feel sick.

Please, never engage in such discussions,

but the round was enjoyable, of course.

I can put it briefly,
I'd like more texture.

Who has a question for
the team "Society Past"?

Here's the thing. You
constantly draw a very big

contrast between two categories of people:

between law abiding citizens and criminals.

At what point can I stop being

a law abiding citizen
and become a criminal?

After all, when I get
a gun I can quite easily

cross the line of the
law instead of remaining

in the category of people who only need

protection. Just because
I don't have a criminal

past, doesn't mean I
won't create one for myself.

So the question is, you're
talking about legalization,

something like that. But
there are unsuccessful

cases too. Take the most talked about, yes,

the United States case. Why do you think

that legalization won't lead to something

like what is happening

in the USA right now?

The US case.

Why do we believe it is not relevant to us?

Simply, because the
model of firearms legislation

in America is very very
different from the model

we propose. In most states a permit is not

even required. No permission is needed

to purchase a firearm. In most states

there are no so-called background checks,

no check of your
criminal history. Basically,

anyone with a national ID card can purchase

this weapon. Currently,
in the US, there are

over 120 guns per 100
people. This is unmatched

anywhere in the world, even in Yemen, which

comes in second and was mentioned.

Seems as mentioned by our opponents

with 50-something firearms.

I didn't want to be here, but I was.

I wanted spaciousness,

but I didn't want to end up here,

where melancholy devoured me.

Ghosts buried alive

read Gumilyov's poems to me.

The songs they sang were in a language

unknown to me, but I knew it.

What are they singing about?

About death, of course.

Their voices pour like milk.

They are absorbed by the frozen ground.

And from there,

from beneath the ice of the Neva,

lonely drowned women called out to me.

Their hair spread out like frozen mud.

They knew the words of this song.

They called me too.

It can't be happening you will say.

And be right. Right. It
can't be like this everywhere.

But not here.

Perhaps where despair
engulfs me completely.

Somehow, I feel a bit lighter here.

After all, there's something that

doesn't keep quiet here.

That is not ready to give up,

allowing us to rise again and go on

walking into a new day, in which we,

including myself,

can do something good.

The 19th of November 2022 and the text

we are discussing such
as Alexander Prokofiev

"Shame and Guilt and
Collective Responsibility".

...speaking as without reflection: I say...

Everyone loves listening to stories, but do

these stories tell anything meaningful?

And so for Plato the tradition of the sages

was very important too.

Americans are more protected in this regard

by their operational pragmatic approach.

Because seeing this manipulation,

they won't let themselves be manipulated.

No matter how much you press on

shame, conscience or guilt.

You won't squeeze money out of an American.

They will find a way to
escape from this manipulation.

I'll respond briefly. I think
here, it might be blunt,

but there's no issue
here. I see no problem.

You are shamed by
people who are essentially

shameless. And you, being an educated

and enlightened person have the ability

to conclude about certain individuals,

the so-called "TV heads', that they are"

shameless people. The
point is that in culture...

there are not, not just "authorities",

but charismatic personalities who...

but somehow, preserve shame as a virtue,

a necessary character trait. One can recall

Dostoevskiy Prince Myshkin, for instance.

It's a character trait that
is preserved in a positive,

beautiful person. The question is only

to distinguish whether a shameless person

is attributing shame to
you, or whether as they say

"Dostoevskiy takes the
blame for that shame".

You can't impute shame to anyone.

You can feel shame,

but you can't impute shame.

Hello, Alla. Could you, please tell me how

long the philosophical
cafe has been around?

It has a fascinating history.

Initially it was a
cyberfeminist club from 1994,

because we initiated the cyberfeminism

movement, which quickly
became international

and concluded in 1997 with the

"Cyberfeminist International".

Later, we transformed it into a gallery

of experimental sound. Well, and then

a philosophical cafe was established there

since 2002.

Now it is evolving into a museum of sound.

At that time, I had small
children, and I refrained

from undertaking significant projects.

We had to survive
intellectually and the best way

to survive cost-effectively and to keep up

the interest in what's around, that's once

a week, all the time, year after year, read

a relevant philosophical text once a week.

And discuss it in great detail consistently

throughout the years.

In contemporary philosophical analysis

we observe deindividualization, that is,

all concepts, related to the individual as

autonomous are gradually being destroyed.

And this deindividualization leads to...

to greater individual
involvement and agency.

However in international criminal law

the norm principle is
individual culpability.

This norm principle is not subject to

any discussion.

It was established after the war

and has been reaffirmed several times

in The Hague and elsewhere. These norms

and principles have
never been reconsidered.

It's such a transition
from the Old Testament

perspective on the
world, on the relationship

between individual, society and God, to the

New Testament precisely as collective

responsibility and collective guilt for

transgressions. It was
a giant leap forward:

the understanding that an individual must

personally answer both to God and society

for their own actions and decisions

and no one else.

Individual guilt makes
a person... not shift

responsibility onto others,
but rather contemplate...

what wrongs I'm personally committing.

Observing this conversation, I find myself

leaning more towards the Ancient Greeks,

where it is said that a person is wiser

the more personal guilt he can bear.

But speaking more abstractly Heidegger's

philosophy teaches:
every "self", as individual

as it may seem and Buddhism teaches

this in its own way, is a certain fiction.

So, if I personally
start to examine myself,

what I'm guilty of or how I participate,

don't participate,
what I can do. If I begin

to analyze this, I will always end up with

some form of "we".

I just recall the Soviet
Union. With the same

words we were brought up in the

Soviet Union. You must feel this is "we".

Naturally.

Is this a return to the
Soviet Union because

of our special military operation?

Well, I don't think it's philosophical.

May I respond? I think the approach that

was in the Soviet Union
it, it was state deficiency.

It was a certain extreme. And it created

an environment where one could always hide

or, conversely, never express any guilt.

It was always easier for them to remove

themselves behind some "we".

And I'm talking about how this "we" and

"collective" in defiance of the individual,

should be reflected upon from within.

In one of Victor Pelevin's works,

the protagonist expresses the idea that

the highest form of
self-realization for the

fly agaric as a mushroom
is an atomic explosion,

and humans are just
an auxiliary form of life

that the mushroom uses to achieve its goal.

Can we use mushrooms to achieve our highest

human form, even if it means annihilating

all the mushrooms?

Well, the mushroom period

was relevant for us in the 90s.

Well, you were saying
how these turbo patriots

feel. Turbo patriots feel shame.

Of course they do. Well, of course.

Because the army isn't
winning. It's shameful.

The truth is revealed,

that all is not as good as imagined.

And here the truth is revealed

or actually falsehood?

Thus truth is indeed an act of revelation.

Actually I wanted to say something else,

but I just simply enjoy the conversation

itself about truth, as liberation.

In other words, truth is not

an achievement of something. It's not like

we conquered Crimea, and now we have it.

But the truth is the opposite,

like the disappearance of something,

like the removal of a veil and placing

consciousness into emptiness, in the

deadlock where prostration. Yes.

He gives an example
of contrasting to pride.

We are proud of, I don't
know, our past victories,

our gold medals at the Olympics.

Which means we're basically ready somehow

identify ourselves as one community,

that can take pride in a group of people,

be it athletes, politicians or warriors,

who once in the past represented

intergenerational pride.
Someone did something,

and we continue to take pride.

But pride doesn't imply our

participation in their victory. This means,

we in no way claim, that

"I created a climate in society."

"I'm responsible for
the conditions in which

these wonderful athletes grew up,

those who brought gold to our country,

meaning we are not
attributing credit to ourselves.

So why, when it comes to collective guilt,

the author, following
Rollo May, we all, who

support the rhetoric for
some reason collective

guilt suggest sharing responsibility?

In one of the animated sitcoms,

perhaps in "American Dad", there was an

episode where the worst thing happened.

All countries launched
missiles at each other,

leading to the destruction of all life and

the planet. But while
the rockets were flying,

Chinese scientists
managed to launch a capsule

into deep space,
containing all their cultural

heritage, everything that they considered

the pinnacle of their
culture and ethnicity,

including a sphere of Chinese ice cream.

So, this capsule traveled
for millennia, until it

was discovered by extraterrestrial beings,

who were so enthralled by the ice cream,

that they deemed it
necessary to clone the Earth,

and go through the entire Evolution process

up to that very moment it appeared,

just to experience that ice cream again.

What item do you think might have motivated

the extraterrestrials to restore the Earth

and the people on it?

Here's what's important:

it's a threat and the
fear of the "big Other".

This culture of the 90s, maybe the early

2000s was always generating diversity.

And it's quite hard to
accept it. And as a result

we got a reaction. It's
like the rise of superstition,

conservatism, aggression. And it seems

to me, that this such an aesthetic

counter-revolution, and
we need to live through

it somehow, ideally keeping oneself intact.

Because in essence, we are already in that

future, which is connected with this new

cultural power, that
comes through diversity.

Well, we... we embrace different cultures,

and it intrigues us. This is how the modern

person is structured. That is our vector,

for modern human. But at the same time,

we are always dragging
along old metaphysics,

old philosophical concepts, that we need

to merge together into one thing,

and stand against the threat of another.

That's why the political
task now is not just to

survive, but to stop the aggression.

But also to retain what we have developed

through the cultural diversity,

through the network culture organizations.

Well, we're trying to do just that.

Talks about guilt brought up unpleasant

associations for me, but
I listened to the words

of people I didn't know,

people I had never seen before,

and thought they were too smart

for me. I don't entirely agree with them,

but I wasn't going to speak up.

It's only halfway there.

I was delayed.

...where guilt comes from the individual's

personality within that community.

So the question is why
don't you give another

life and a second birth
to the feeling of shame

within this same community? And such a,

let's say, new understanding of personality

within the framework of the community.

We're talking about such

transcendental generalization.

You lose emotional connotation.

In relation to Lacanian
forms of sexualization.

Subjectivization, a new individualization.

And all of this is described through

the function of castration.

Experiencing the world through oneself.

Thanks to Kant.

Badiou is not equal to love’s prism.

That it's about l'amour and désir.

And for Plato it was very
important to somehow

put the tradition of the wise under this.

There's a function there.

So, Hitler's advent in essence is...

And he has proven among other things

the immortality of the soul.

So... uh...

Look... at Gorbanevskaya'68.

And Gorbanevskaya and her friends go out

onto Red Square. What's that?

And what Gorbanevskaya and the group

did in '68, I mean speaking out against

the introduction of tanks into Prague...

It was an act that was supposed to change

the self-identity of the community.

They inscribed themselves, as it were,

in the classical pattern
of a large community,

but immediately expelled themselves,

as if appropriating
society and politics, taking

responsibility for it, as if
it were their community.

That is, they played on changing

the dimension and scale.

A monument to a beautiful girl,

known for her brave act, aimed at showing

solidarity with Vietnamese communists.

She broke through the soldiers and lay down

on the tracks in front of the accelerating

military train, heading to Vietnam

with tanks for a colonial war.

Many women followed her example.

As a result, the train was stopped

and delayed for 9 hours.

Raymonda was sentenced to a year in prison.

Looking at this field,

one can believe in the tales of the Aryan,

who lived here thousands of years ago.

Pre-parents... the ancients...

those who have partly gone to India.

Because this land in winter is a big cow

with black-and-white spotted, plowed,

barren patches and wonders.

We may not all be close relatives,

but we're of the same kind.

There's no shame in looking alike,

no reason to be upset with the truth.

And let's be brave,

do remember, and do believe in the future.

We will fight against
every injustice in our way

and achieve peace.

I believe in this

as I believe that the
sun rises in the East.

Screams.

They were splitting my consciousness.

The two halves of me,

the living and the dead,
were equally battling.

And I didn't know how it would end.

I lit a cigarette, but I quit.

Where did I get cigarettes from?

Or is it not mine?

Is this the last one?

What's next?

Sorry, I'm not from around here.

I am from another world.

Here I'm just an ordinary person,

living a simple life, not bothering anyone.

And there...

I'm the one who has
to take 12 drags and die.

I didn't know where I was, and why

Tsoi's music was always playing here,

but I was glad to feel something,

even if it was just the games of my mind.

We must allow life to change us.

It seems foolish, but it's true.

We must fight the windmills.

And we must accept what happens next.

Never let your fire be extinguished,

but fire is always new, like water.

That's why life changes us every moment.

And this is an inevitable good.

And why is it good?

Because we do not want to believe

that it should not be evil.

And this must be a fundamental response!

The old grass is burned with fire.

This is what the past generations

passed down to me.

Those who left,

and those who don't want to leave,

invent new rules.

Instead of fire

there's only smoke

Instead of warmth — cold

Another day is crossed out

on the calendar grid

The red shining sun

has completely burned out

And this day goes out with it

And over a glowing city

the shadow will fall

We want changes

It's the demand of our hearts

We want changes

It's demand of our eyes

In our laughter, in our tears

and the pulse in our veins

We want changes

And we are ready for change...

We cannot brag about the

wisdom in our eyes,

And our gestures are not very skilled,

But even without all of that

understanding remains.

Cigarettes in our hands

tea on the table

That's how the circle is filled

And suddenly we've become

scared to change something.

We want changes

It's the demand of our hearts

We want changes

It's the demand of our eyes

In our laughter, in our tears

and the pulse in our veins

We want changes

And we are ready for change...

The band "Changes"

Red, so red blood...

In an hour it's a simple earth.

This is the very essence of existence.

And let there be that truth.

To heck with it. There's another truth.

In which all of us,

each one of us strives for love,

to the most sincere,

to seek happiness not just for oneself.

In this circle,

reminiscent of a miniature Colosseum,

sleeps the memory, curled up in a ring,

and engulfing in its somnambulist state,

its own tail,

dusted with ash.

I feel how these granite walls

vibrate under its heavy breath,

and words are not needed here.

Just to leave memory in your dream

and to rise. Wake up on your own.

Head somewhere beyond the horizon,

to allow oneself such
boldness. Just like that,

for some reason,

exactly in this place.

Like nowhere else, I
felt that my personal...

individual... self means something.

People often say it's
unexpected to look up.

For us, it's the norm of life.