- So, woke up finally, Ivan Petrovich?
- Pavel … Pavel Petrovich,- I whispered, still coming to my senses and silly beholding the decayed yellow walls which have surrounded me, and own iron bed on which I was laying.
- Yeah … sure … who the heck cares. Wonderfully, wonderfully. Just remarkably, you know.
And having that said a man in a white dressing gown bent over me, looked in the eyes somehow semi-malevolently and smiled.
- Now we are gonna to put you a clyster, Ivan Petrovich, and all your diseases - and he smiled once more - they will be surely forever gone …
24.06.2011
An unofficial appeal to the book publishers
So, you must have worked well. I guess that was not easy. Most likely, you are happy with your own result. And whether it was possible to play this wondrous game better ?
It’s thanks to you the world has seen million of new books and learned hundreds thousands of new names. It’s thanks to you was born such a symbolical concept as “best-seller” – something which is being sold exclusive good, bringing you well-earned silver coins. It’s thanks to you each and every self-respected person of intelligent look could respect himself a little bit more thanks to existence of yet another volume of yet another classic in his yet another private library which he, as it commonly goes, started and safely finished reading on a second or a third page. It’s thanks to you the mankind could transform its idea of what a “real literature” must look like. And ceased to read anymore thanks to your efforts as well.
You became a great wall, consisting of one thousand and one brick, connected together by a glue of a thirst of profit. You mixed together solution of din words of modern magazines and best-sellers and transformed literature into a business, having added spices of marketing for better taste. And then you started giving this poison to one generation after another, slowly and methodically killing a sense of beauty in them – because it isn’t so really obligatory for those who will soon come to your about-books brothel to buy a next volume of a next author with so colorfully ornamented cover. Collectors of candy wrappers !
It’s not a question of desire to serve as the conductor of verbal wisdom for younger generations – oh, if only it was that way ! It’s simply a question of profit. Simply for that reason you sell what is being sold better, and if it’s ever necessary to sell something quicker than usual – you put a “best-seller” label on it. Nothing personal, it’s just business. Nothing wise, however, as well. What a good business is that !
And what of the love, honesty, justice, after all – there is no demand for these? But how immense must be a demand for something different ! For all these modern healers with fiery spheres in their hands and gilded nimbuses over their heads, promising wonders of healing in the next dozens of read pages. For all this infinite, as it seems, stream of “fantasy”, riveted day by day by newly born authors in their attempts to glorify own names – it’s a pity, however, that a plot from these books becomes forgotten after a week or so, and except for a plot in a dry rest there is only a philosophy of “revenge and destroy” kind that remains. For all these political investigations, speeches, trends, brands, monographs of the ones-in-power … as if it were not politicians who have plunged this world into a chaos of wars and mutual hatred of nations ! For all these new opuses of “theologians”, who have transformed words of Christ ad His apostles to service their self-interest, and letter after a letter, treatment after a treatment darking and polluting their original primary meaning ! And, certainly, we must not forget the books of about-computers subject, which become outdated in a year or two – just a remarkable source of income on a prime cost to a price ratio. Truly, is it such a good saltwort ? But whether there is much salt in it ?
But even when someone comes to your literary magazines with a request to publish something – not for himself, without money, for those reading your papers – you prefer to keep death silence. Yes, it doesn’t interest you, it’s not in a format of your publishing houses. Who will ever read such things ? Probably, only those who have become indifferent to ones such as you.
Well, continue to sell rather than publish. Continue to promote and enslave new authors. Continue to give birth to best-sellers, moving with a mainstream crowds. All of this won’t help you any longer, not anymore. And if once for the down work of building a great wall people who have flown above it won’t even shake your hands – be not surprised.
18.09.2012
An unofficial appeal to the politicians
You address I today, power usurpers. My appeal today is for you, ones trampling people with your unjust heel, oh over proud ones. My word is for you, mother Earth on hundreds pieces dismembering, like a killed trophy. My message is for you, wars provoking and world with blood of nations fertilizing. Mighty ones of this world yourself considering, possessing the right to decide human fates yourself considering. Word of mine is for you, politicians of this world.
Like a dirt from human waste emerge you upwards, not sinking, in waters of national ignorance bathing. To the power you go with methods bloody, crafty and cruel, over the heads of people much more worthy going. Slyness you have already learned in that way of regression long ago, considering it ascension unreasonably. To deceit others you have learned millennia ago in the way mentioned of self-interest and human excess. Tyranny and cruelty long have you accepted and adopted, a way to the tops lowest with your elbows punching. Whether much does that knowledge and skill of yours cost for the world eternal, I wonder? Thirty silver coins, and never more.
Laws to serve your self-interest you do write. Flaunt with imaginary bragging you do, as if for world nations truly serving - but suffer those nations still under your rule. For how many times already have you been thrown from those illusory earth thrones, whether you remember? Nothing you do learn from faults of your forerunners! Rob you the nations, to you entrusted, red caviar over both your cheeks stocking. On the graves of children and old men you keep dancing, of the economic growth keep chatting simultaneously. Of the cultural revival you keep babbling, into debauchery with fornication people plunging continuously. Not to revive countries you have come, but to suck last juices, regaling, instead. Deadly poison that moisture is, yet its effect is delayed for a bit. And not a Socrat you are to drink that poison and not to writhe - one way or another to do that you’ll have soon enough.
The uniform world you have broken off and on the pieces torn apart, human foolishness and hatred having exploited. Now pit people of various countries you do, profit own from wars mentioned gathering and counting up. How to unite people are you going? On the basis of hatred and rage only probably. Of patriotism you talk profusely, men sending on slaughters freely and eagerly. Will you desire to go in front lines on massacres mentioned soon, oh peaceful ones, to own country devoted? Terrified you’ll be to do that, and that you know perfectly.
Your nations you have been considering as cattle for a long time already, and treat people you accordingly. Of the justice eons ago you’ve forgotten, and indulge the humiliation of people you further. No more a purpose they are, yet means instead, and despise them you do. But if all people those spit on you simultaneously - whether you’ll sink in that gratitude of those who haven’t elected you, I wonder? Or do you guess, probably, that for long the Earth will suffer your idiocy? Criminals, into the power who’ve crawled, do the Earth need you any longer? Or do you hope, perchance, that dead as a deader the Earth is, and by a human blood in wars you provoke can you fertilize it with no court and punishment? Both the first and the second are upon your heads already, or don’t you feel it yet?
Whether your television lies will ever be ceased? Whether brainwashing of human beings will be stopped? Whether your bravado and puffing up will finally bother you? Like monkeys you’ve become already! And whether similar representatives of human civilizations, disappeared in darkness of past epochs, have turned into monkeys, I wonder?
Or have you concluded, possibly, that law divine not for you was written,
and chosen ones in own eyes exclusively you have become? Or have you decided that hands of yours are pure for now? How deaf to appeals of simple people you’ve made yourself! Whether they will listen to your opinion further, ones, whom a gold-bringer cattle you’ve considered? One step before the abyss you are standing for now, lords of this world yourself assuming! Never do you learn from mistakes of your ancestors, truly!
For how long to emerge from chasms unknown are you going, people in these abysses leading directly and inevitably? Till what time people of this world will you plunder, covering yourself with self-invented laws time and again? Up to what degree tears of human grief in tubes of self-love are you planning to boil? Till what minute, hour and year your slaughter of each other will be conducted, and common men a wasted material in slaughters mentioned will be? Your time is coming to an end finally, whether you feel it or not!
Inscrutable are the ways of the Maker, and whether you know of the limits of His patience? Are you not afraid to overflow bowls of harm, caused by you, once? Great does influence of yours deeds spread through countries, to you invisible … Why do you keep gathering stones in your bags, to a Court travelling, or into the sky are you planning to throw them further? Fall will that stone thrown back on the head of yours soon, and you never know the place and time, where and when overtake you that requital will. Why are you destroying yourself so imprudently? Awake from self-complacency of own ego, or too late will it be! Those stones of yours, thrown earlier, are flying back already, and if repentance is not found in Souls of yours, their speed increases greatly with each instant of time passing. With a true service to own nations from your side stones those are being melted! Or have you forgotten the essence of service mentioned ages ago totally? Never explained on the fingers can it be, really …
Or have you no desire to lead world nations to prosperity, in fact? Or have you no wish to unite countries isolated, so that no more in such quantities you are needed? Or have the purse more attractive than the life of Spirit own become to you? Or have the voice of your conscience been silenced definitely?
Let the time judge each and every one of you accordingly and people take out decisions theirs. And if the people, tormented by you, will stand up once and with a broom of will throw you away to reaches unreachable, whether there will be a place for you to run to, oh ones, who’ve been running from themselves for so long already?
16.05.2011
An unofficial appeal to the priests
You I address now, ones listening and ones not heard. You I address now, who the Word of His Son deformed for your own sake and from your own misunderstanding. You I address now, ones, trading the God. You I address now, ones, who are betraying Him.
Word of mine is for you, unholy fathers. Word of mine is for you, priests.
For a long time already many of you have lost last particle of that sanctity, apostles of Son Divine which have possessed. For a long time already you lack the eagerness to purify souls of humans. For a long time already you lack the understanding of Divine Laws, laws of the world spiritual. For a long time already there is no sensation of harmony in your souls – and God does not live in your temples.
Whom do you appeal to in shouts heartrending, prayers mournful performing ? Whom do you pray to, like idols bashing with heads of yours painted boards, called as icons ? Whose flame do you aspire to support, lighting candles in temples of yours ? Whether can you explain, why the silvered water you have started to call sacred ? For a long time already have you forgotten the true essence and meaning, and only the ritual form remained, dead as dead.
Do you think, really, that by selling the God you serve Him still ? Oh, not Him, not anymore.
No one gave you the right to pardon errors of human beings, sins releasing back home into a distances unknown by waving those censers of yours. It’s you who have this right misappropriated, having holy texts deformed centuries ago.
No one gave you the right to speak on behalf of God to commoners, who trusted you. On behalf of your own can you only do that – but will words of yours will cost much that way around ?
No one gave you the right to trade portraits of Highest Spirits, icons named, in institutions of yours, churches called. For are these icons necessary really to address in hearts those Spirits immortal ?
No one gave you the right to replace the fire purifying of awakening spirit with wax candles of yours. For impossible it is to replace spiritual with material, and if the first exists without the second, the second never exists without the first.
No one gave you the right to store bones of people, named sacred by you, when they leave this world in a journey to the Spiritual one, into your bosoms. For it’s not the bones that are sacred, but the heat of human’s heart, turning to the God in its holy impulse.
No one gave you the right to replace fast the essence of ablution and purification spiritual with those of water material. For it’s not the water itself that purifies us, may it be three times in silvery tubes boiled, but desire of our spirit of purification named.
No one gave you the right to limit the residence of God to dome markets of yours, churches nicknamed. For the whole world is a domain of the eternal God, and each of us has His part as well.
No one gave you the right to do all that mentioned. It’s you who have stolen it, and great is responsibility of yours for such thievery, for it’s the God whom you are stealing from. For it’s the people, trusting you, whom you are deceiving. Like blind ones lead you them into the pits – but who will fall in it the first soon enough, I wonder ?
Those in disagreement you damn and curse. Those seeking the God in the hearts of theirs without directions from yours you call disbelievers. Fighting with each other over the doctrines you are, merciful ones.
Or should I remind you, perchance, how have you put witches afire previously, oh holy and just ones ? Or should I remind you, perchance, how have you tortured people in casemates of yours ? Or should I remind you, perchance, how have you organized “sacred” bloody campaigns ? Or do you think you have changed much since then ? Perhaps, not trying to kill those not consent with you on spot now you are.
But until now you, peaceful ones, have still been fighting among yourselves, on silliest occasions possible. For the service of yours have business of yours become and no need for God live and just you have anymore. And if the God has come to all of you this very instant – what would you tell Him ? Whether you have made correct quotation of your services and whether the demon of errors have not crept into the calculations of your prices ? So know, that it’s the golden calf whom you have been worshipping for a long time already – for when the sanctity leaves soul of human, it’s the self-interest the takes its place soon.
Mercenary ones among false ones – and so few true ones … but all self-interest comes to an end once in a while nevertheless. On the Dread Judgment it comes. And neither the golden crosses, nor the baked candles save you there. And mourn and cry in desperation will everyone who have dimmed the fire of his spirit under a stream golden, and the voice of soul, named conscience, have made silent.
The last chance you are given to wash away your guilt with worthy affairs, with true aid to the human’s soul instead of its illusion, which you have been assiduously supporting.
Will you be able to use this chance truly, I wonder ?
So give yourself the answer in the calm loneliness of your spirit, and travel the path your heart desire and calls you into.
20.10.2010
Believer
You are a faithful one, right? Say, a true Christian, strictly carrying out all Church rituals. Greatly, immensely devout person. Every week you go for a church on a prayer and a confession, and thus that soul of yours stays in a condition of the highest harmony and purity, thoughts are virtuous to the extreme degree, and from those hands of yours deeds of fair and kind nature never cease streaming. Possibly, wings are gonna to grow at your back already soon, and you will soar up to the heavens much like a divine angel, which a
re being painted on icons so often. You are simply magnificent. And is there is truly anyone in this world greater than you and deserving to be saved in a greater degree?
Here you are coming back from a recent confession, and your face shines in a blissful smile, for you are truthfully and without serious hesitation has told a priest of your recent sin, and he has forgiven you. Now, obviously, you have nothing more to worry about. And that sin of yours - such a trifle! - some sort of small financial swindle with the orphanage. Why, they aren’t going to receive their money - whether that such a serious trouble, you wonder? And you had to spend only one tenth part of that fortune in order to “pay for services” to your favorite and all-forgiving priest, - and here you are, pure like a heavenly angel, - so very convenient! Having no sin you will never confess, right? Last time a rape cost, however, slightly more, - but what one won’t make for the sake of his own soul, yeah?
And what magnificent furniture was there in that temple, what sort of carved icons, candlesticks, candelabrums! You were really stunned when you were beholding all this luxury. One can make anything for a true faith, right? And what sort of faith would that be without all this gold magnificence, right? True disbelief and faithlessness!
You were almost ready to enter your black BMW, conveniently parked near temple walls, when has noticed a lame beggar, hobbling to your direction with a stretched hand. He, certainly, has asked you in the name of God for money to buy some bread. “Take it and choke!” - you have muttered and thrown him a handful of coins. I have said previously that you are such a devout person for a reason - you are the very incarnation of mercy! When your car with a wild roar and having let out a cloud of smoke darted off on new affairs, this beggar was still creeping in a lap on stone blocks, continuing collecting copper coins you have thrown. How deeply have some people fallen! And you are, undoubtedly, have risen so much higher above them.
On the Wings of Hope : Prose Page 17
