Speaker: So, I was talking on the phone with an old buddy of mine from Nizhny Novgorod—you know, catching up, exchanging news. I told him that, taking his advice, I started making these documentary-style video recordings.
Friend: "If you’re running around the field anyway, record a video!"
Speaker: I used to say: "Nah, there's no time, it's all nonsense." But then I thought: "Wait, this makes for a great documentary!" So I started recording. I thanked him for the idea, mentioned that I started a separate channel just for this kind of casual talking-head content.
And then I told him about the local news—how I had to start fighting with the local administration, because things have gotten completely out of hand. What is going on, anyway? I gave him some examples: they plowed up the land around here and refuse to fix anything; they ruined the road. Then a reply comes back from the police saying there's no crime found in the actions of the guy who plowed it all up with heavy machinery. Well, I decided to take on this case myself.
Then at the migration office, we go to register our newborn child, and there’s a huge crowd of migrants there, and they tell us: "No, you have to make an appointment in advance." What do you mean, in advance? We came earlier, it was closed, we checked the working hours, and there was no information about pre-booking anywhere. "Book in advance" is written on the door now, sure. So we drove back from the village again. Still, "book in advance." Okay, fine, book us in. We set up a power of attorney right away so we wouldn't have to keep driving back and forth dealing with this nonsense and wasting time. Now I’m the sole designated representative. So I arrive with the power of attorney. And they tell me: "You can't do it at your scheduled appointment time."
So I'm telling my friend all of this.
Friend: "That's awesome! Why aren't you filming? Film it, film it!"
Speaker: Well, they banned filming there. They said: "We’ll call the police." Exactly inside the migration office, that is. And I still had paperwork to settle. Looking back, I regretted not filming. I should have just placed the phone down quietly and recorded it secretly.
So we’re discussing this, laughing about it.
Friend: "Yeah, I had a situation too: there were no envelopes at the post office."
Speaker: But what do they have? They have canned food!
We had a good laugh. I told him: "Come on, let's be two old guys recording silly, funny videos together." I explained that I approach all of this with a sense of the absurd. Anyway, we caught up like that.
Now I’m reflecting on something else. That was just the intro. I’m thinking about children. Should we introduce kids—with their pure, untainted sense of the living, beautiful, magical, wonderful world of this planet and its nature—into this dirty reality? Into this realm of parasites and pests, when it's not even by their own choice? These parasites might not even know why they ended up in that parasitic, harmful niche. Well, people have to work, right? Everyone needs a job, so they go wherever pays more according to their abilities—all that stuff.
And I’m reflecting, thinking: we used to shield our children from all of this as much as possible, creating a fairytale atmosphere, right? That’s just how we live. Here’s a fairytale, here are cartoons, here’s the world—it’s alive, vibrant, and beautiful, right? Just like that. And I realize we could have kept living that way, not meddling in all this mess, not feeding these topics with our attention, simply ignoring them. Sure, someone’s doing something over there, but we have our own way here. Somewhere people are shooting, somewhere there’s a war, somewhere hospitals lack medicine, while elsewhere an entire bird rescue center stands empty—just completely empty. Why even prove anything? Somewhere a road is half-paved and they didn't bother with the other half, somewhere else things are... well, you know how it is.
I realize that maybe I would have kept shielding them, as long as it didn't touch us directly. But it always touches us indirectly, doesn't it? If a shot is fired somewhere, that means a couple of rubles less for regional development, less support for future generations. Somewhere a tree is chopped down, somewhere land is ruined—it’s all connected. But when they start ruining the land right under your nose, when they actively obstruct you right after you've had a baby, shoving you aside with: "Go book an appointment over there, go do that," while lines of migrants stand there—where maybe some under-the-table payments are happening, or maybe not, maybe everything is completely above board... There’s no sign on the door saying you have to book in advance by calling a specific number. If it were fair, they wouldn't hide it. "Why bother? They’ll check online." Sure, maybe elderly grandmothers will check the internet! Except they don't have that kind of internet. Like who was that? Dmitry Shagin, right? "What internet? I don't even have internet!" Just like in Shinkaryov’s book.
Or like Marat Guelman—what does he say? "Artists need to party and network, you gotta mingle!" Right. Like, how does an artist advance their career? Some advertising and PR trickery like "you gotta mingle." What kind of "mingling" is that? What is that whole scene built on? "Who’s cooler? Oh, I know this guy, I know that guy. You'll get great opportunities if you buy my work." Man, that is so tacky. Go say that to Gely Korzhev, see how he’d react if he read Marat Guelman saying "you gotta mingle." What is that? What kind of statement is that? It’s simply beneath dignity to say things like that, right?
So that’s my point: we should shield our children as much as possible from this hostile worldview that completely destroys the beautiful foundation of nature under our feet, nature around us, nature everywhere in the universe. And then these parasitic habits creep in. But again, once it comes this close to home, once you’ve let it in, maybe it’s worth setting an example of how to handle it: how to laugh at it, how to react. Like that video of the directors of the waste management company: "Their asses are all dirty with crap, they don't wipe, they just wipe a little bit." Like, yeah, why bother wiping the rest? So they walk around like that.
You just raise the degree of absurdity! Laugh at all of it, like Simoron techniques—just laugh and imagine them all with elephant trunks for noses and dirty asses. You can do that! At the end of the day, these company directors are just grown-up kids, like teenagers acting tough in their expensive cars. But it’s hilarious when you imagine them driving around in their cars with dirty asses, or sitting at home watching TV while it smells bad around them. If they don't know any better, you can teach them, right?
So you frame it lightly for the kids, show them that you can laugh at these people, because you shouldn't hate them. They are human beings too, they have their own strange mission. They’re like children, really—we’re all just children deep down. Honestly, read Facebook: people everywhere write like children, don't they? That’s the attitude to take.
Or like my friend Max rightly said: "Are there envelopes? No. What is there? Canned food at the post office, see? But no envelopes." It’s funny, isn't it? And meanwhiles, there's shooting again, millions and billions being spent. Yeah. But no envelopes! The road is only half-paved. Right? Everyone knows how it is. Though some people don't know—some people are completely detached from the common folk. Like that advertiser writing commissioned pieces. Anyway, you get the point, right?
Then I play this song—Nikolai Karachentsov singing the White Knight's song from the Alice in Wonderland animated film. I thought: "Oh, I have to show this to the kids. Some of our older ones saw it, but the little ones haven't." I couldn't remember which cartoon it was at first. I almost teared up listening to that song again. It’s so beautiful, isn't it? Things like that.
And then back to Marat Guelman again: "You gotta mingle!" No matter how wisely he formulates things—and he does state things brilliantly, laying everything out clearly on shelves—he’s missing the most important shelves. I’ve read his stuff, you know, art and artists and all that. But the main shelf is missing. There are a few shelves of Perestroika-era murky ideas, but the main shelf simply isn't there in his arguments. For me, those other shelves don't even exist. They might be standing there, but they’re uninteresting to me. I’d rather focus on what actually matters.
