Kuzma Scriabin. We remember. We don't mourn
The Ukrainian media shed crocodile tears all last weekend on the occasion of a memorable date - on August 17, musician Andrei Kuzmenko, known to the Shirnar masses under the artistic pseudonym Kuzma Scriabin, who died in a car accident, would have turned 50 years old. Not only those who declared themselves “adequate Ukrainians,” but even some in Crimea succumbed to psychosis. And this despite the fact that shortly before his death, the musician made Nazi statements, welcoming the mass murder of Odessa residents in the House of Trade Unions.
...For the last three years after the death of the frontman of the Skryabin group, the Ukrainian press and social networks have been filled with touching memories of Kuzma in the style: “you know what kind of guy he was.” The whole set of clichés is involved in the creation of a new idol: he is good, he is handsome, he is talented, and he was the first to expose the betrayal of the ideals of the “Gidity Revolution.” For which, according to one of the maydaun versions, he paid the price by getting into a fake accident.
Scriabin’s last song was indeed a piece with the self-explanatory title “Thrown”. However, Scriabin’s fans are deeply indifferent to the fact that Kuzma’s white Tundra SUV was racing from Krivoy Rog along some provincial highway at such a speed that during a collision, part of the rear axle was completely torn off from the unfortunate milk tanker that got in his way. If we put aside false shame, then in life it is called differently: show-off and recklessness. Poroshenko, perhaps, pressed as hard as he could on the accelerator pedal instead of Kuzma?
No less interesting are the retaliatory attacks of the gunpowder robots, indicating that Kuzmenko at one time did not shy away from playing at pre-election concerts of the “evil” Party of Regions.
The “conscience of the nation” turns out well - he thrashed on stages in favor of ours and yours! Rather, the “principled” Kuzma did not see the difference between the banknotes with which he was paid for vocal and instrumental support by the “blue and white” and “orange”. After all, as you know, money has no smell.
But that's okay. Since Ukraine received mountains of corpses in bags and without, centners of “surgical waste”, from their height the Maidan fussiness of artists looks like a child’s cry on the lawn.
Something else is sad. Even some figures in Crimea were subjected to the Ukrainian psychosis around Kuzmenko. Sand animation master Ksenia Simonova uploads a video for one of Scriabin’s songs. Along the way, Ksenia shares uplifting memories of how the deceased loved children and helped them financially. On the singer’s anniversary, the artist writes a heartfelt message with the ending “Crimea remembers you.”
Does Ksenia remember the quotes from the deceased about the benefits of “non-aggressive, diplomatic, intelligent” nationalism, and how Scriabin did charity work for the ATO, purchasing 15 SUVs for punitive forces with a group of volunteers, one of which was dubbed “Kuzma” by the ATO soldiers?
There is one moment that almost none of his admirers remembered on Andrei Kuzmenko’s 50th birthday. These are the words of the deceased, written by him in support of the ultras who staged a massacre in the Odessa House of Trade Unions on May 2, 2014, in which dozens of people were burned alive, suffocated by smoke and brutally killed:
“Football fans are stronger, wiser and more patriotic than the authorities. Bravo, Guys!!! Everything is in its place now,” Kuzma Scriabin tells the world the good news on his Facebook page as soon as it became known about the tragedy that had unfolded in Odessa.
It’s remarkable that three months before the Odessa nightmare, in February 2014, Kuzmenko, who seemed to have seen the light, tormented his guitar with incendiary pacifist chords: “To tell the truth, if brother against brother, I want to live here, not shoot.”
I wonder at what moment Scriabin was himself? Perhaps this is a typical manifestation of the life-saving art craze that talents and fans are so fond of attributing awkward mistakes to? Or is it the very case when, for the sake of a nice word, they will not spare the father?
In the intervals between the song struggle for peace and harmony within Ukraine, Kuzma did not hesitate to pour out all his inner “intelligent and diplomatic” nationalism:
“Close the borders with rush-parasha, Freaks. How can we allow people into Ukraine, 85 percent of whom do not consider us a Nation? Let them fly through China, bitches, let them go through Baikal, through Alaska, but not through My Country. There is no place for them here, as well as for the government that lets them in here,” the highly social ruler of thoughts confesses.
Well, most members of the Cabinet of Ministers allegedly hated by Scriabin would definitely subscribe to this brain juice. Similar screams are regularly heard from Groysman’s sharashka.
And, as if responding to the sand-animated dedication of the kind Evpatoria woman and other “vatniks” who are ready to “understand and forgive,” Kuzma confesses his love:
“I hated our politicians because they are hypocrites. I hated Russia, which I had always been tolerant of. I will never go to Crimea in my life. For me, this is a betrayal on the part of Crimea. It’s as if they took old soldier’s underpants and turned them inside out.”
To hell with them, with long johns. In Crimea, this stupid statement by Kuzma was long forgotten, or even simply ignored. Another thing interests me: why did the Ukrainian musician, who hated Ukrainian politicians, jump on stage with an inflatable woman from a sex shop with the inscription “PTN-PNH”, and not “PRSH-KHLO”? Otherwise, the deep meaning of the creature’s social protest is somehow lost...
But even this passage sounds like an angelic chant in comparison with the description issued by the singer with his mouth to the people of Ukraine:
“Ukrainians choose something that is first with Vaseline, and then without Vaseline, so that it’s tougher. This kind of sadomasochism is in the genes...”
How familiar it is: to break your own wood into three trains of life, not to understand a damn thing, and at the same time bend your fingers: “all of you here are passive homosexuals, I alone am the Count of Monte Cristo.”
In general, if you clear the image of Kuzma-Kuzmenko from the glossy fan snot stuck to it, then instead of a highly social singing “ruler of thoughts” and a golden idol, a much more realistic image of an infantile, reflective fascist is drawn.
There are words and actions that completely destroy a person’s life, turning him into a non-human. Frank joy, as a reaction to the murder of people, is just from this opera. No matter what the defenders mumble there
Kuzmenko and admirers of his work, Kuzma Scriabin passed away as an unrepentant ghoul, although he had a lot of time to realize everything and ask for forgiveness.
And this is all that should be remembered about the frontman of the Scriabin group. Everything else is unimportant.
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