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nicklloydnow · 10 months

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“In Russia, power is a pyramid. This pyramid was built by Ivan the Terrible in the 16th century – an ambitious, brutal tsar overrun by paranoia and a great many other vices. With the help of his personal army – the oprichnina – he cruelly and bloodily divided the Russian state into power and people, friend and foe, and the gap between them became the deepest of moats. His friendship with the Golden Horde convinced him that the only way to rule the hugeness of Russia was by becoming an occupier of this enormous zone. The occupying power had to be strong, cruel, unpredictable and incomprehensible to the people. The people should have no choice but to obey and worship it. And a single person sits at the peak of this dark pyramid, a single person possessing absolute power and a right to all.

Paradoxically, the principle of Russian power hasn’t even remotely changed in the last five centuries. I consider this to be our country’s main tragedy. Our medieval pyramid has stood tall for all that time, its surface changing, but never its fundamental form. And it’s always been a single Russian ruler sitting at its peak: Pyotr I, Nicholas II, Stalin, Brezhnev, Andropov … Today, Putin has been sitting at its peak for more than 20 years. Having broken his promise, he clutches on to his chair with all his might. The Pyramid of Power poisons the ruler with absolute authority. It shoots archaic, medieval vibrations into the ruler and his retinue, seeming to say: “you are the masters of a country whose integrity can only be maintained by violence and cruelty; be as opaque as I am, as cruel and unpredictable, everything is allowed to you, you must call forth shock and awe in your population, the people must not understand you, but they must fear you.”

(…)

Alas, Yeltsin, who came to power on the crest of the wave of perestroika, did not destroy the pyramid’s medieval form; he simply refurbished its surface: instead of gloomy Soviet concrete, it became colorful and was covered over with billboards advertising western goods. The Pyramid of Power exacerbated Yeltsin’s worst traits: he became rude, a bully and an alcoholic. His face turned into a heavy, motionless mask of impudent arrogance. Toward the end of his reign, Yeltsin unleashed a senseless war on to Chechnya when it decided to secede from the Russian Federation. The pyramid built by Ivan the Terrible had succeeded in awakening the imperialist even in Yeltsin, only a short-lived democrat; as a Russian tsar, he sent tanks and bombers into Chechnya, dooming the Chechen people to death and suffering.

Yeltsin and the other creators of perestroika surrounding him not only didn’t destroy the vicious Pyramid of Power, they didn’t bury their Soviet past either – unlike the post-war Germans who buried the corpse of their nazism in the 1950s. The corpse of this monster, which had annihilated tens of millions of its own citizens and thrown its country back 70 years into the past, was propped up in a corner: it’ll rot on its own, they thought. But it turned out not to be dead.

(…)

The Pyramid of Power was vibrating and its vibrations stopped time. Like a huge iceberg, the country was floating through the past – first its Soviet past, then only its medieval past.

Putin declared that the collapse of the USSR was the greatest catastrophe of the 20th century. For all clear-headed Soviet people, its collapse had been a blessing; it was impossible to find a single family unscathed by the red wheel of Stalinist repressions. Millions were annihilated. Tens of millions were poisoned by the fumes of communism – an unattainable goal requiring moral and physical sacrifices by Soviet citizens. But Putin didn’t manage to outgrow the KGB officer inside of him, the officer who’d been taught that the USSR was the greatest hope for the progress of mankind and that the west was an enemy capable only of corruption. Launching his time machine into the past, it was as if he were returning to his Soviet youth, during which he’d been so comfortable. He gradually forced all his subjects to return there as well.

The perversity of the Pyramid of Power lies in the fact that he who sits at its peak broadcasts his psychosomatic condition to the country’s entire population. The ideology of Putinism is quite eclectic; in it, respect for the Soviet lies side by side with feudal ethics, Lenin sharing a bed with Tsarist Russia and Russian Orthodox Christianity.

Putin’s favorite philosopher is Ivan Ilyin – a monarchist, Russian nationalist, anti-Semite, and ideologist of the White movement who was expelled by Lenin from Soviet Russia in 1922 and ended his life in exile. When Hitler came to power in Germany, Ilyin congratulated him hotly for “bringing the Bolshevization of Germany to a halt.

(…)

In his articles, Ilyin hoped that, after the fall of Bolshevism, Russia would have its own great führer, who would bring the country up from its knees. Indeed, “Russia rising from its knees” is the preferred slogan of Putin and of his Putinists. It was also taking his cue from Ilyin that he spoke contemptuously of a Ukrainian state “created by Lenin”. In fact, the independent Ukraine was not created by Lenin, but by the Central Rada in January 1918, immediately after the dissolution of the Constituent Assembly by Lenin. This state arose because of Lenin’s aggression, but not thanks to his efforts. Ilyin was convinced that if, after the Bolsheviks, the authorities in Russia were “[to become] anti-national and anti-state, obsequious toward foreigners, [to dismember] the country, [to become] patriotically unprincipled, not exclusively protecting the interests of the great Russian nation without any regard for whorish Lesser Russians [Ukrainians], to whom Lenin gave statehood, then the revolution [would] not end, but enter its new phase of perishing from western decadence.”

“Under Putin, Russia has gotten up from its knees!” his supporters often chant. Someone once joked: the country got up from its knees, but quickly got down onto all fours: corruption, authoritarianism, bureaucratic arbitrariness and poverty. Now we might add another: war.

A lot has happened in the last 20 years. The president of the Russian Federation’s face has turned into an impenetrable mask, radiating cruelty, anger, and discontent. His main instrument of communication has become lies – lies small and big, naively superficial and highly structured, lies he seems to believe himself and lies he doesn’t. Russians are already accustomed to their president’s lie-filled rhetoric. But, now, he’s also inured Europeans to those lies. Yet another head of a European country flies to the Kremlin so as to listen through their traditional portion of fantastical lies (now at an enormous, totally paranoid table), to nod their head, to say that “the dialogue turned out to be fairly constructive” at a press conference, then to just fly away.

(…)

Putin’s inner monster wasn’t just brought up by our Pyramid of Power and the corrupt Russian elite, to whom Putin, like the tsar to the satraps, throws fat, juicy bits of corruption from his table.

It was also cultivated by the approval of irresponsible western politicians, cynical businessmen and corrupt journalists and political scientists.

(…)

For Putin, life itself has always been a special operation. From the black order of the KGB, he learned not only contempt for “normal” people, always a form of expendable matter for the Soviet Moloch-state, but also the Chekist’s main principle: not a single word of truth. Everything must be hidden away, classified. His personal life, relatives, habits – everything has always been hidden, overgrown with rumors and speculation.

Now, one thing has become clear: with this war, Putin has crossed a line – a red line. The mask is off, the armor of the “enlightened autocrat” has cracked. Now, all westerners who sympathize with the “strong Russian tsar” have to shut up and realize that a full-scale war is being unleashed in 21st century Europe. The aggressor is Putin’s Russia. It will bring nothing but death and destruction to Europe. This war was unleashed by a man corrupted by absolute power, who, in his madness, has decided to redraw the map of our world. If you listen to Putin’s speech announcing a “special operation”, America and Nato are mentioned more than Ukraine. Let us also recall his recent “ultimatum” to Nato. As such, his goal isn’t Ukraine, but western civilization, the hatred for which he lapped up in the black milk he drank from the KGB’s teat.

Who’s to blame? Us. Russians. And we’ll now have to bear this guilt until Putin’s regime collapses. For it surely will collapse and the attack on a free Ukraine is the beginning of the end.

Putinism is doomed because it’s an enemy of freedom and an enemy of democracy. People have finally understood this today. He attacked a free and democratic country precisely because it is a free and democratic country. But he’s the one who is doomed because the world of freedom and democracy is far bigger than his dark and gloomy lair. Doomed because what he wants is a new Middle Ages, corruption, lies and trampling on human freedoms. Because he is the past. And we must do everything in our power to make this monster remain there – in the past – for all time, together with his Pyramid of Power.”

“The Russian president is facing the most serious threat to his hold on power in all the 23 years he’s run the nuclear state. And it is staggering to behold the veneer of total control he has maintained all that time – the ultimate selling point of his autocracy – crumble overnight.

It was both inevitable and impossible. Inevitable, as the mismanagement of the war had meant only a system as homogenously closed and immune to criticism as the Kremlin could survive such a heinous misadventure. And impossible as Putin’s critics simply vanish, or fall out of windows, or are poisoned savagely. Yet now the fifth-largest army in the world is halfway through a weekend in which fratricide – the turning of their guns upon their fellow soldiers – was briefly the only thing that could save the Moscow elite from collapse.

(…)

Much of this sudden resolution is as curious and inexplicable as the crisis it solved. Prigozhin appears – thus far – to have had none of his demands heeded. The top brass of Russia’s defense ministry is still in place. He has done incalculable damage to Putin’s control over the Russian state, and shown how easy it is to take control of the key military city of Rostov-on-Don and then move fast towards the capital. And it took the intervention of Lukashenko, an ally whom Putin treats more as a subordinate than an equal, to engineer an end to this ghastly of weekends for the Kremlin.

(…)

The rage and tension that has been building for months has not suddenly been assuaged. It has instead been accentuated.

So accustomed are we to viewing Putin as a master tactician, that the opening salvos of Prigozhin’s disobedience were at times assessed as a feint – a bid by Putin to keep his generals on edge with a loyal henchman as their outspoken critic. But what we have seen – with Putin forced to admit that Rostov-on-Don, his main military hub, is out of his control – puts paid to any idea that this was managed by the Kremlin.

(…)

Perhaps Prigozhin dreamt he could push Putin into a change at the top of a ministry of defense the Wagner chief has publicly berated for months. But Putin’s address on Saturday morning has eradicated that prospect. This is now an existential choice for Russia’s elite – between the president’s faltering regime, and the dark, mercenary Frankenstein it created to do its dirty work, which has turned on its masters.

(…)

This is not the first time this spring we have seen Moscow look weak. The drone attack on the Kremlin in May must have caused the elite around Putin to question how on earth the capital’s defenses were so weak. Days later, elite country houses were targeted by yet more Ukrainian drones. Among the Russian rich, Friday’s events will remove any question about whether they should doubt Putin’s grip on power.

(…)

As this rare Jacobean drama of Russian basic human frailty plays out, it is not inevitable that improvements will follow. Prigozhin may not prevail, and the foundations of the Kremlin’s control may not ultimately collapse. But a weakened Putin may do irrational things to prove his strength.

He may prove unable to accept the logic of defeat in the coming months on the frontlines in Ukraine. He may be unaware of the depth of discontent among his own armed forces, and lack proper control over their actions. Russia’s position as a responsible nuclear power rests on stability at the top.

A lot more can go wrong than it can go right. But it is impossible to imagine Putin’s regime will ever go back to its previous heights of control from this moment. And it is inevitable that further turmoil and change is ahead.”

“No one should be naive and think that any new Russian leader would automatically be better.

For their part, it is understandable that Ukrainians hope that liberation may be at hand if Russians fall out among themselves. But the chilling truth is that Prigozhin has made it clear that he is rebelling because the aggression against Ukraine has been mismanaged, not because it is a war crime. Prigozhin’s unrestrained brutality means that if he succeeds in bending the Russian state and army to his will, the war against Ukraine could be plunged into new depths of horror.

So far, Putin has used bluster about using nuclear weapons but don’t count on a criminal such as Prigozhin to show restraint. For this is a man who has used a sledgehammer to smash the head of an insubordinate soldier.

Would such a beast bother considering the consequences before unleashing nuclear weapons on the world?

Make no mistake, the fate of Russia’s vast nuclear arsenal is now in play. As bad for Russia and the world as Putin’s regime has been, a new power struggle for control of the Kremlin risks putting the world on the brink of atomic catastrophe. We have never witnessed a civil war inside a nuclear-armed state before.

(…)

Nuclear-armed anarchy is a terrifying prospect. But there is little in practice that the West can do to control the situation.

However much Putin deserves a grim reckoning, those who may yet topple him are even less predictable and self-controlled. Yesterday’s chaos suggests his coming fall would still set in train a worse time of troubles for all of us.”

#vladimir sorokin #sorokin #putin #russia #ukraine #russo ukrainian war #power #yevgeny prigozhin #wagner #russian coup #ivan ilyin #mark almond

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yutjjhggg · 1 year

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davidlavieri · 5 months

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...the Russian Empire, which showed the world Asian-Byzantine despotism in combination with indecently dimensionless colonial geography, a harsh climate, and a submissive populace, a large portion of which lived like slaves. The twentieth century is far more interesting, starting with a world war, during which the monarchic titan of Russia began to stagger, followed by a bourgeois revolution that surged forth rather naturally, after which the titan began to tumble over. Perhaps it'd be better to say "titaness" (grammatically speaking, Russia is a feminine noun). Her imperial heart stopped. If she, this gloriously merciless giantess wearing a diamond tiara and a mantle of snow, had properly collapsed in February 1917 and disintegrated into a collection of human-size states, everything would have turned out more or less in keeping with the spirit of modern history, and the nations that had been oppressed by the czar's power would finally have gained their postimperial national identities and begun to live freely. But everything happened differently. The Bolshevik Party did not allow the giantess to fall, compensating for its small numbers with its beastly bite and inexhaustible social activity. Having successfully pulled off a nighttime coup in Saint Petersburg, they stopped the falling corpse of empire just before it hit the ground. I see Lenin and Trotsky precisely as tiny caryatids, holding up the dead and beautiful giantess with furious grunts. Despite their "fierce hatred" for the czar's regime, the Bolsheviks ended up being neoimperialists to their core; after they won the Civil War, the corpse was rechristened as the "USSR," a despotic state with centralized governance and a rigid ideology. As befits any empire, the USSR began to expand and to seize new lands. But Stalin turned out to be the purest imperialist of this new imperial circumstance. He didn't become a caryatid, but simply decided to raise up the imperial corpse. This was called kollektivizatsia industrializatsia. He did so for ten years, raising up the giantess according to the method of ancient civilizations that necessitated laying stones underneath a statue in order to successfully erect it. Instead of stones, Stalin used the bodies of citizens of the USSR, As a result, the imperial corpse assumed an upright position. They then applied makeup to its face, rouge to its cheeks, and froze it. The freezer of Stalin's regime worked without fail. But, as everyone knows, no technology shall serve us forever-just remember your wonderful red BMW. After Stalin died, the corpse began to thaw. They just managed to get the freezer running again, but not for long. Finally, the body of our beauty melted for good and she once again began to topple over. New hands rose up to catch her and post-Soviet imperialists were ready to turn into caryatids. But, at that moment, a wise group finally came to power, one led by a man who was unprepossessing at first glance. He turned out to be a wonderful liberal and psychotherapist. For a decade and a half, this toiler of the fall talked constantly about the revival of empire, while doing everything he could to make the corpse land successfully. And that's what happened. After which another life melted into being amongst the shattered bits of the beauty.

Vladimir Sorokin, Telluria

#sorokin #telluria #russia #history #lit #quotes

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atridesmediator · 6 months

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lying on a pink sofa kicking my feet in the air and giggling while discussing vladimir sorokin’s books

#sorokin #rbrntxt

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ijustdontlikepeople · 1 year

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Soroking 👑👑👑👑

#isles lb #sorokin

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coo1day · 2 years

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Владимир Сорокин - Метель (Vladimir Sorokin - Der Schneesturm)

#Sorokin

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don-lichterman · 2 years

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These Under 30 Listers Are Impacting Marketing And Media Across Europe

These European journalists, entrepreneurs, marketers and designers are pushing the boundaries of what’s possible with storytelling, creativity and business. Being a war correspondent isn’t something everyone experiences while still in college, but Anastasiia Lapatina has spent the past several months doing just that. As a national reporter for The Kyiv Independent—an English-language publication…

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#30 under 30 #Bucha #Europe #impacting #Kyiv Post #Listers #Marketing #media #media & marketing #Sorokin #The Kyiv Independent

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wehaveagathering · 3 months

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the loneliest job in the world // tony hoagland

ben jackson / minas panagiotakis / len redkoles / mitchell leff / joel auerbach / jonathan daniel / eliot j. schechter / steve babineau / scott taetsch / bruce bennett / jared c. tilton / minas panagiotakis / gerry thomas / mark blinch / ben jackson / bruce bennett / jeff vinnick / andy marlin / norm hall / gerry thomas / bruce bennett

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samgirard · 8 days

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└ kochetkov manning the door | round one, game one: car vs. nyi | 4.20.24 + bonus: sorokin stuck behind the glass

#pyotr kochetkov #andrei svechnikov #jordan martinook #ilya sorokin #carolina hurricanes #canesedit #islesedit #nhledit #nhl playoffs 2024 #as requested #backup goalies you are still good boys even when you are made to be doormen or put in a tank with the zambonis

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fictionkinfessions · 7 months

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I have no idea if one Zoro or multiple Zoros have been sending in confessions about realizing they're him and having to come to terms with it..but. shine on you strange funky swordsmen

frog

#fictionkinfessions #fictionkin #sorokin #onepiecekin #chara love #mod party cat

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fadedday · 17 days

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Photography by Sergey Sorokin

#Sergey Sorokin #artistic nude #photographic nude #art nude

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horangislittletiger99 · 9 months

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Tw: non consenting pet play,sex as rewards and just masochistic reader

Imagine being kidnapped by makarov and made to be his pet

like you saw something you weren't supposed to and you piqued his interest in some way

that's the only way I see it to be honest

He'll have sex with you as a reward

Probably carve his Initials in your skin with a knife

Maybe he'll have yuri join in too ( ͡° ͜ʖ ͡°)

your usually Perceived as bad when he's having a moment and you'll be not allowed to touch yourself or anything

(I pictured him having a shock collar for you on those occasions)

He'll probably make you wear a tight black dress no matter what gender

You'll even wear a collar and be forced to call him daddy or master in Russian

It could just be me desperately wanting to be owned or something

#vladimir makarov #cod makarov #vladimir makarov x reader #cod imagines #call of duty x reader #call of duty #yuri sorokin #Cod thirst #Not horangi stuff

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annarexcouture · 3 months

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ilyasorokinn · 2 months

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always a winner ― ilya sorokin

note, i love ilya, and can’t believe i haven’t written as many things as i have for other players. he’s literally the love of my life, and i’ve kind of neglected him lol. anyways, this fic is part of the "sorokin, party of four" series. check out this masterlist for more. another note, also, let's please not talk about how this is like a 300 years late. i'm so behind on things and so tired and i think i'm getting burn out? but idk so let's just enjoy that i wrote something :) all-star fics are in the works. last note, sorry one last note. in this fic, mila is 4 and victor isn't really in this, but he is 2 :) summary, regardless of the outcome, ilya sorokin is the best dad in the world to his kids. warnings, kids/children word count, 1286 words (a little short, i'm sorry. it's just ilya being cute with mila ig)

mila’s eyes were wide as she took in the converted football field. she was wearing her sorokin jacket and a beanie with a sequined ‘30’ on it. victor was only 2, so you left him with ilya's parents because you knew he wouldn't remember most things.

"mama, look!" mila pointed up at something before her attention was grabbed by something else. you tried your best to keep up with her but she was running on sugar and adrenaline, a dangerous combo for a toddler.

"i know," you laughed, "slow down, mimi." you called after her. you eventually spotted the girls and all the kids, standing off to the side of the field, talking and taking everything in as well, "look, there's your friends." she quickly spotted all the other kids and ran over to join them.

you followed after her a little slower, wrapping your jacket tighter around you and taking everything in. it still was mind-boggling to you, even a decade later, that this was your life. you were in metlife stadium, watching your husband play the sport he loved, surrounded by a group of girls doing the same thing. it was special.

"take it all in." kristy wrapped an arm around her shoulders, "it's magical."

"this is so insane." you laughed.

after bribing mila with some more sugar and almost having a meltdown, the guys finally came out. before family was let out onto the ice, all the media content was taken. once that was all taken care of, family was finally let onto the ice.

once he was able to, ilya immediately made his way over to you and snatched up mila, flipping her upside down, making her giggle like crazy.

"put me down, papa!" she giggled, trying to get out of his grasp. he put her back down and set her down on the bench. he made quick work of helping her tie her skates and helping her get her helmet and pads on.

after helping mila, he turned to you. even though you had been together for a decade and no matter how much you protested, he would always help you put your skates on.

he kneeled in front of you and grabbed your foot, tying your skate, "new trick?" mila asked. she had been taking skating lessons for a few weeks.

"you want to show everyone your new trick?" she nodded her head, "of course, you can," you smiled, kissing her head and switching legs so ilya could tie the other skate. once he was done, he helped you off the bench, and you each grabbed one of mila's hands, walking her over to the ice.

all around you, the rink was a buzz. everyone was skating around. kids were playing mini sticks, guys were skating around, girls were mingling and skating.

it took a few laps, but eventually, mila was comfortable with skating and let go of your hands and skated around. you and ilya followed behind her and when she did fall, ilya was quick to pick her up and soothe her before she could start crying.

ilya skated off to the bench and grabbed a stick he had brought for her and handed it to her. varlomov's kid was in front of the net, just like their dad, so mila winded up and skated shakily up to the net with the puck and managed to get it past them.

she turned around and looked at you, shocked that she had done it. you both gave her a thumbs up, "celly." you told her. she did a little celly, which the media team had caught on camera and would later be posted on the isles social media account.

she skated over to ilya, who picked her up and held her to his chest, "that was amazing, mimi." you cheered, patting her on the back.

she skated around a little more before she was distracted and started playing with the other kids. you managed to take lots of pictures and got a picture of mila with her favorite guy on the team, mat barzal, cause of course her favorite uncle is uncle maty.

mat carried her around the rink, making her laugh and giggle (which gave the media team more amazing content of mat with a child). you and sydney got pictures of matt holding mila and ilya holding winnie which melted your heart.

the next day, mila somehow overcame the sugar rush and was filled with even more energy. the entire way back to metlife, she was bouncing around in her seat in the car.

"mimi, calm down." you laughed, watching her talk to herself through the rearview mirror, "now remember, when we get there..."

"i know, i know. hold your hand and don't let go, i know." she sighed. you didn't have to look back to know she was rolling her eyes. you knew where she got her attitude from.

"good." you nodded. you looked back at victor, who, on the other hand, was as calm as a cucumber in his seat. he had been occupying himself and barely paying attention to his sister.

you arrived at metlife earlier than all the fans attending, and met up with a few other girls, as well as your parents and all of the family ilya had invited. it wasn't many people, but you were excited to see them.

after pregaming the game with a few of the girls, fans started to arrive. there was a good mixture of both rangers and islanders fans so you were excited. you had left mila and victor with ilya's parents and your's so you could go off with the girls to get snacks and drinks.

by the time you had returned, mila already had a bag of cotton candy and victor was asleep, his headphones on so he couldn't hear all the loud noise. when mila saw you, she looked at you, her eyes big and scared.

"who gave you cotton candy, miss mila?" you asked. without hesitation, she pointed over to your dad. you looked over at him and raised a brow.

"who am i to deny my grandchild?" he simply shrugged, accepting a piece of cotton candy mila was offering him. you shook your head and smiled before turning your attention to the game.

the first period of the game was strong. the isles were up 3-1 and everything was looking good. by the end of the second, it was 4-3 and by the end of the third, it was tied and mila was asleep.

then, 10 seconds into overtime, panarin scored and the rangers fans in the crowd went crazy. when the horn blared, an overwhelming feeling of sadness filled your heart. you knew ilya tried his best and he would probably beat himself up about it.

you left mila and victor with your parents and ilya's family, who would drive back to your home where they were all staying, and you would drive back with ilya.

you followed alexa, matilda, and emma down to meet up with the guys. when you saw ilya walk out of the locker room, you couldn't help but smile. he managed a sad smile back and made his way over to you.

no words were said as he wrapped his arms around you. you stayed like that for a few minutes, just wrapped in a hug. you pulled away and cupped his face, "i'm proud of you." you leaned your forehead against his.

he nodded, "you were amazing, ilya." he nodded again before closing his eyes and taking a deep breath, "let's go home. order some sushi and go to sleep." you grabbed his hand and let him lead you over to his car.

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