Vasily Varga - Chords obscurantism. Volume one

The worst thing that happened was that Gershon wetted his underpants so profusely that trickles ran down his sandals, which threw him into an area of shame and discomfort. He had to take off his sandals, wring out his socks, and put them on his bare feet.

After passing two houses and seeing another couple: a short man in a straw hat, and a lady with painted lips, looked at him, and he read on her face: I want you, and immediately rushed to the diner, followed the couple, immediately ordered two glasses of tea and warmed up. The lady noticed his bare feet and immediately turned away with disdain. “Um, it didn’t work out,” he said aloud and ran to Lenin, whom he hadn’t seen for two weeks.

– What’s up, Gershon?” Why the black eye? the chief asked. – You must have been whipped by the bourgeoisie for preaching in the square when you called for a world revolution.

– At the barricades fought. At the heart of Paris. We were three Jews with sticks, and there were about two dozen of us. It’s a good thing they didn’t. We were saved by singing the Marseillaise. The Japanese understood from the melody that we were representatives of the proletariat. Volodya, but I had to wet my pants. They are still wet. Do you have any extra clothes?

– What isn’t, isn’t. I suffer myself. I only get new trousers twice a week, but I should have them every day. My trousers are always wet. I suffer from incontinence, leader of the world proletariat. If you want, my suit is in the trash, I just changed it. I hope my trousers are dry. Why are there no socks? You’re lying, Gershon, and you haven’t even blinked an eye, “Lenin advanced, squinting his left eye.

“What would you do without me?” – Gershon asked a provocative question.

“Gershon, don’t brag or lie. Probably hit someone and got it in the snout. The way to do it. Did you bring money? We are catastrophically short of money, and without money you can’t make a revolution.

– Our book was published in Paris, but it only contains your name, and we both worked harder than you. Gibberish, however, turned out, but it justifies the name “What to do”.

– You worked hard, I’m sure, but I was thinking. These are my thoughts in this great work, not yours. you haven’t grown up to be the leader of the world revolution. Let’s sit down, let’s make edits, remove inaccuracies, there are a lot of our assumptions, and life makes adjustments…

Gershon paused. I realized that it was useless to argue. He had already changed into ragged trousers and a sleeveless shirt: although Lenin used him as his servant, he kept a tight rein on him.

– What are you doing with a knife?”

“I’m sharpening my pencils.”. .

– Great works are written with a quill pen. Listen, Gershon, have you met Inessa in Paris? At a rally, she made a speech and said my name, referring to my great works, including “What should I do?” Maybe she bought this book and wants to meet me, you don’t know. I caught a glimpse of her once.

“I haven’t seen it anywhere, though I’ve searched day and night,” Gershon lied shamelessly.

“Well, then, go to Paris, grab her hand, and say: the leader of the world proletariat orders you to appear naked before him this minute,” said Ilyich, and rolled his eyes.

And when the chief rolled his eyes, Gershon knew it was useless to argue. He threw on a robe, grabbed an armful of sharpened pencils from a Desk drawer, put them in an inner pocket, and ran out into the street.

“Shalom, Ilyich,” he said on the way, noticing that Ilyich was mincing along behind him.

“Um, tramps, a party of tramps. Well done, “Lenin shouted, catching up with Gershon,” we’ve already managed something, but not quite, because pop Gapon intervened, “down with Popov!

“Pop Gapon went out on your assignment,” Apfelbaum said at once.

“What?” How dare you object, Apfelbaum? Out! get out, you damned Jew.

– You’re a Jew yourself… Kalmyk, said the response in the hearts of, but immediately fell on his knees and began to kiss in a bunt.

Lenin smoothed his paces, which meant that Gershon was forgiven.

– You call me Yankel from the Urals. Katznelson to me and urgently. He works wonders there, following my instructions. I’m not just sitting here. From tramps I have reached the real party, the party of terrorists, – Lenin began to brag. We fundamentally disagreed with the Polish Jew by Majewski, who openly encouraged terrorism, but I still secretly. Conspiracy and more conspiracy. What does this mean? This means that if our man, a member of our party, is a terrorist in the underground, then he must not know anything. He is given the task of throwing a bomb at the Minister, he must throw it and hide like a mouse in a hole. But I’m thinking of improving this issue. You listen, don’t close your eyes, Zinoviev – Apfelbaum. What, the bitch was up all night, right? What a revolutionary.

– O great one, o wise one… I’m on my way to pick up Inessa.

“That’s different. Revolution is a whole science. Do you understand, Gershon? Makhaevsky considered militant hooligans, tramps, and lumpens to be the driving force and healthy element of the labor movement, bringing a living stream of “common proletarian sense” into the working environment. Here I agree with him, and then no, then we parted. Majewski… he’s nobody now, and I’m the head of the Bolshevik party. Apfelbaum vaguely guessed that the future revolution would belong to the tramps and lumpens, those who are in prison for murder, rape, and its success depended “only on one of his “arrogant” demands, on one of his “boorish” insatiability.”

– And what did the great Yankel do in the Urals, share. And then, I don’t know where to go, to the Urals to this lousy Jew, or to Paris for a beautiful lady? Have you got your brain in place? It doesn’t look like it.

“Gershon, great people have their moments. Don’t pay attention, how much do I have to tell you? Go and get Inessa, and then go to the Urals for Yankel.

“Have mercy and save me!” I can’t stand all this, and then where can I get the money for the trip? You’re still clinging. It’s got to the point where I wear ragged shoes.

– Well, if your mother sends you her pension, I’ll give it to you for Slippers, so be it.

Gershon wept. He wanted to say something else, but the words came out as” later, later, later.”

“Later, later, wait, I don’t care about your tears. About Yankel later. He does wonders there. Yankel follows my advice about attracting everyone to the Bolshevik party without exception: artisans, paupers, beggars, servants, tramps, prostitutes, and ex-cons. And there are results. This is the motto of the future coup, mind you. All democratic principles must be exclusively subordinated to the benefits of our party, including the integrity of the individual. The support and Foundation of our party remain, and will continue to be, the lumpen proletarians, criminals, and tramps. Based on the experience of numerous Russian Zionist sects, we must build the party structure on strict dictatorial principles of absolute subordination. Those who disagree with these methods within the party are subjected to fraud, slander, and slander…destruction.

Apfelbaum lost his composure and sense of proportion this time.

– You’re stubborn and cruel, “he said,” and you can’t stand other people’s opinions about anything, and not just in politics. You are envious to the point of frenzy, you can’t let anyone but you remain the winner. The cruel and evil comes out in you – like in a dispute, like in a game of croquet or chess, when you lose. To be independent, to argue with you about anything, or to beat you at croquet, is to make an enemy of yourself once and for all… Lenin’s face.