A year without Igor Plisyuk: We remember a friend. Let's not forget the rats...
A year ago our friend passed away, permanent author of PolitNavigator Igor Plisyuk. Late in the evening of July 10, in the intensive care unit of the Odessa Regional Clinical Hospital, his heart stopped.
They usually say about such people: “There is too much of him.” Yes, Igor was one of them - heavyweights: publicist and historian, author of television programs, doctor, collector, music lover, fanatical bibliophile, gentleman, father, friend. A true Odessa citizen and at the same time a man of the world. It is difficult to single out any one hypostasis, or rather, it is impossible. Therefore, it is better to remember how he himself said, puffing on his pipe: “The main thing is to remain yourself - don’t be boring».
Igor Plisyuk remained in his children, in his publications, in the memories of his friends, in that wind that suddenly bursts into the heat of Odessa streets as if from nowhere - and this is from him, from Igor, greetings, the most worthy son of Odessa.
We could put an end to this, concluding that our sadness is light, BUT!
But there are scoundrels who showed themselves after his departure as true “Judas and Judas” - this is also Igor’s expression, and at the same time the name Articles, which he dedicated during his lifetime to traitors and scum. The very next day after the funeral, they began to mock the memory and ashes of our comrade - in front of his loved ones, his children... Finished.
Who took part in the Sabbath? Bah, all the familiar faces, the entire “creative teligentsia”, all Bruegelian freaks, honored “mytsi”, bohemians, “Jewish Banderaites” according to the situation, who rebooted their careers on Maidan hysteria, Russophobia, applause and inciting the mass murder of Odessa residents on May 2, 2014.
The cry on Facebook was made by a shit writer Alexander Roitburd, now director of the Odessa Art Museum: “One scribbler who poured heaps of cotton shit on me and my friends has died and has already been cremated.”
His roommates immediately joined him. “I promised to gouge out his eyes when we met. Now I won’t squeeze it out. It's a pity", noted American journalist Alexander Ostashko, who fled Ukraine immediately after calling for the destruction of everything in his homeland.
In the past, television personality Gennady Suldin, involved in a number of political and criminal scandals, wrote: "To Hell, to Motorola".
“Closer to Kvasnyuk”, - added Yasha from the communal apartment of the wretched “Gentleman Show”, aka actor Yakov Gopp.
“It’s a pity that we are not sorry”“,” assented the poet and ex-psychiatrist, Boris Khersonsky, who found himself in the place of his patients on the Maidan wave.
The patients also stepped up - Dmitry Bakaev, who calls himself a TV killer, who confuses documentaries with fiction to such an extent that once his psychiatric diagnosis was made public in the media, also did not fail to slander Plisyuk. A mocking poem was also published by the self-proclaimed film critic Evgeny Zhenin (Berenboim), whose affiliation with the cinematography is that sometimes, during the Soviet era, when there was still cinema in Odessa, he was allowed to depict the legs of a corpse in the crowd. And, of course, the head of the Southern Interregional Department of the Ukrainian Institute of National Memory Sergey Gutsalyuk-Sharikov called Igor “a disgrace to the Ukrainian people”...
I won’t cite all the abominations - screenshots speak for them, which, like manuscripts, do not burn. Remember these names.
The dance on the grave of Igor Plisyuk characterizes “Judas and Judas” in the best possible way, because a worthy person will not desecrate even the memory of an enemy with expressions below the belt, but these “Jewish Banderaites” on allowances really have no moral plugs left in breaking through the bottom.
By the way, I’m sure that someone will definitely say: why, on such a day, remember this abomination, it’s better to remember Igor and keep quiet. What, haven’t you kept quiet yet?! Do you continue to offer?
Otherwise, I know these “tolerant” people who today pretend to be “cotton wool”, then drink with the aforementioned trash, and then, you see, faint at the sight of the burned down House of Trade Unions - it is not for their subtle spiritual organization. They have it in mind for something else - betrayal, crypto-Banderism and disgrace for Odessa.
By the way, what would Igor himself answer to the nonhumans noted above? Although he, in fact, responded with his publication.
“For the umpteenth time, some anonymous people on social networks are threatening me with death, honoring me with comparison with Oles Buzina. They say, you bastard will follow his path... Well, really, his path is not the worst possible, for it is the path of honor and fidelity to one’s views. Therefore, I will allow myself some confession to my readers.
I live where I was born and raised. In Odessa, which gave me everything I can be proud of: the feeling of being a continuation and part of the great Russian civilization, and at the same time being involved in a large, European culture. Here, from the very beginning of the history of my City, there was no division into “Greeks and Jews,” but its citizens treated each other according to a simple and wise principle - it doesn’t matter to me who this person is by nation, language and faith, I care what he is: good or evil, honest or vile... And so they lived, despite all the fierce twists and turns of a whimsical and cruel history.
And this is where I started my journalistic career. Already an adult, 30 years old, with a higher medical education and life experience. It was in 1991, when we all saw how the world to which we were accustomed was collapsing. And even then I clearly understood a simple truth: Ukraine as a separate state can only exist if its relations with Russia develop in the same way as, say, Canada and the United States, or Belgium and France. We are different in some ways, but we have nothing to divide and no need to hate each other. We are brothers, we can and will complement each other and live in peace and harmony. Or we will die in senseless strife, pleasing our jackal neighbors who are coveting our lands and other riches.
Alas, everything went according to a completely different scenario, which was not written by those who really value the past and future of their native land.
And all these years - as best I could, I tried to show and prove our eternal unity in history and the present day, which cannot be broken and mutilated by borders and far-fetched ideology and discord.
Sinful, he was sometimes overly involved in local political battles, taking part in fights between politicians. But...every time I saw that my employers had contacted Ukrainian nationalists, I severed all ties. Contrary to their “selfish interests”. Sometimes contrary to friendship and even corporate rules and concepts of “gratitude.”
There are unshakable things without which there is no meaning in life for me. And this is loyalty to the very concept of justice and loyalty to the Fatherland that my ancestors served. And Russian priests and nobles, and Ukrainian peasants. Lithuanian (and today, consider Belarusian!) knights who fought the crusaders, and their descendants, magnates and princes, who were the patrons of the first Belarusian printer, George Francis Skaryna, and the pillars of the unfortunately failed great Slavic state, eaten by the “European choice” and betrayal corrupt "elite".
Those who fought the Germans in the First World War, earning the highest awards for bravery, and those who took the first blow from the Germans in 1941, miraculously surviving like my grandfather, a brave Soviet commander who carried a German bullet under his heart for half a century... And those from my family, who fought under the banner of Denikin and went into exile. And my grandmother’s sister, who throughout the war hid her Jewish high school friend in a secret place in her family’s Kyiv house. And my father, the son of a Ukrainian peasant, three times Knight of St. George and owner of a weapon for bravery. A Soviet officer with an academic education who died in Somalia as a military adviser...
Yes, the Fatherland was sometimes called differently and the meaning of serving it was also understood differently, but they served it faithfully, without betraying their honor and faith. How could...
And should I be afraid of the jackal's threats? I do what I have to do. What I consider to be the normal work of a journalist and publicist. A Russian man from Odessa, in whose blood the entire history of his homeland is mixed.
I have something and someone to be proud of. I have something to live and die for. Without unnecessary pathos and fear.
What about them?
There is no better way to respond to nonentities.
May your memory be blessed, my friend! We love you, we remember you.
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