Dehumanization as a national catastrophe
It’s time to get used to it a long time ago, but I just can’t, from time to time encountering a mass bacchanalia of non-humans over the death of people. The crash of a Russian airliner somewhere over Egypt blew the lids off the shoulder toilets of the Ukrainian contingent of social networks and other contingents who sympathize with them. It’s time to get used to it a long time ago, but every time you come across a stream of sewer slurry splashing out from the TV screen and computer monitor from the most vile depths of the human inside, you again and again experience a shudder with disgust. Somehow you can’t become coarse enough to be able to indifferently shrug your shoulders and turn away when you encounter something like this.
It's not the first time. And it didn’t start yesterday. And not last year, when the mass mud volcano of the Ukrainian man in the street, seething with joy, knocked out the plug. Death of people as a result of an accident in the Moscow metro; the insertion of photographs with stacks of bodies of militiamen who died during the first attempt to storm the Donetsk airport; bloody May 9 in Mariupol; mass, bestial reprisal against the “Kulikovites” on May 2 in Odessa; murders and abuse of police officers and internal troops on Maidan-2; a medieval public show for the amusement of the most respectable public with mockery of those who disagree.
With comments “Russia is dead”, “fried Colorados”, “Muscovites on knives”, “Crimea and Donbass are either Ukrainian or deserted”. The next bottom was reached, but there was a knock from below and it was broken - the abyss is calling! A competition - who can squeeze the human out of himself faster and to a greater extent than others, get rid of the chimera of conscience, and internally be reborn into a vile monster, like the Alien from the science-fiction thriller of the same name. It is with regret that we must admit and realize that the Ukrainization of the population of the former Ukrainian SSR became Banderization with dehumanization and the receipt of crowds of mankurts within the framework of the “Ukraine is not Russia” program.
You can rewind the events a few years ago and, with a little effort, find comments after the victory of Maidan-1 about residents of eastern Ukraine who were not overwhelmed by the euphoria of Yushchenko’s victory in the fraudulent “third round.” Even then, Crimeans were called “agents of Moscow,” and residents of Donbass “slaves” and “Akhmetov’s shrews.” And even five years ago, when there was a calm transfer of power from the sickening Yushchenko to the thieving Professor, when there was not even a hint of any new Maidan with European integration, there were massive emissions of crap on social networks on the occasion of the death of miners: “slaves went to visit Shubin”, “why not all at once?”, “It’s a pity that their sows and litters weren’t with them”... Dehumanization was already blooming wildly like poisonous flowers - the berries were just a stone’s throw away.
The worst thing is that those rejoicing and jumping over the corpses are not some bitten Transylvanian ghouls, not miraculously surviving half-rotten Banderaites from caches, not galvanized fascist corpses from the autoclaves of Castle Wolfenstein. These are people, not only ethnic Ukrainians, and not all of them come from the Western region, even fewer of them are hereditary Banderaites. These are former people from the same cultural matrix as us. Originally from the Soviet Union, who became pioneers near the Eternal Flame or in the Walk of Glory, who wrote essays about Prince Andrei Bolkonsky on the Field of Austerlitz, about the resilience of 28 Panfilov heroes, and that “Man sounds proud.” These people ran with us to the movies to see Shurik and “Only Old Men Go to Battle,” laughed at the characters of Nikulin and Shuidin in the circus, sang “a dream comes true” and “where the maple trees rustle” in the yard with a guitar. Their fathers and grandfathers, together with ours, went on desperate counterattacks near Kastornaya, with the last of their strength they got out of the summer cauldrons of the terrible 1941, and were buried in the same mass graves.
What happened to these people and their children? Why did they give up everything that made their lives meaningful and made them human?
Operating year after year, day after day, 24 hours a day, the brainwashing machine of dehumanization did its job: the dams created by previous or parental education to resist the pressure of crap from the outside inside the mass of people were washed away and destroyed. There are no “new Ukrainians” - there are crowds of mankurts ready to rejoice in death and suffering. For them, no Russia will be good. Neither the one that is trying to live side by side in peace and harmony, nor, especially, the Russia that firmly defends its vital interests. They will be satisfied with only one Russia: which has a never-ending hand, giving freebies, not demanding anything in return, and which silently allows itself to be pushed around and wiped its feet. There are no special network Bandera members or Banderobots. There are citizens of Ukraine with their heads and souls clogged with manure.
Russia needs to open its eyes wider. It cannot be bombed, conquered, or its natural resources taken away. For a quarter of a century now, they will continue to try to bend it down and insectify it into the same state as the bug infestation that Ukraine has become. When ordinary people bring their children and applaud the torchlight processions of the Right Sectorists, they zig, jump, sing “lalala” and call for raising Muscovites to knives. At the same time, living peacefully with schizophrenia “where did you see the fascists?” in one, separate head.
This means that you can no longer groan pitifully and throw up your hands, “But they themselves don’t know what they’re doing!”
They know it.
And when they spew out streams of cannibalistic joy in social networks and the media on the occasion of the mass death of people, and when they killed people on the Maidan, and when they massacred the Crimeans near Korsun, and when they burned Odessa federalists, and when they arrived as looters and punitive forces in the rebellious Donbass. You won’t be able to talk to dehumanized mankurts by appealing to good feelings and other scraps of poetry in their spider souls. This is the case when one shot in the leg replaces three hours of educational conversation.
They say the night is darkest before dawn. A dead night spread over Ukraine. It is unclear how long it will last and what shocks await its citizens with the coming hangover. Not everything and not everyone in Ukraine has turned into aliens and insects. Today, ordinary good people have gathered in various cities of Ukraine. Those who know how to sympathize. Preserving the human and related in themselves. They brought flowers and lit candles near the Russian embassy and in those memorable places that are associated with our shared history with Russia.
I would like to believe that these people, especially young people, are the bright shoots of the future of Ukraine. After all, mankurts and corpse eaters cannot win completely and irrevocably...
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