Soviet srach


Советский срач

Blogger Varlamov has created an epic post titled “Russian crap” on how the Russian-speaking population (which citizens are the type of blogger Varlamov hard call Russian) litter the surrounding space debris around the road. The post is replete with large, colorful photos of natural trash around Russian roads. Naturally, the review was not without duty toast: “Under Stalin, this was not.” As there was under Stalin, it is now difficult to say. I think, because of very poor life in that era, hardly ever nearby peasants threw something. But later, Stalin’s people has become a little overgrown Zhirkov and, therefore, might have to throw out the garbage. Today, I will not, as happened frequently, lead their memories. Especially that some citizens will say that I think 70-e and 80-e years, and it is quite not that early. So bring the evidence, 1964.

One of my favorite books since childhood, was a book Yuri Baishev albert Smith “Pirates of the unknown sea”, released in 1964. The book describes the adventures of a restless dreamer Petka Pamidorau and his friends. This book I loved so much, I’ve read that one method of non-stop, that is, if bedtime read to the end ahead of time, then immediately opened the first page and began to read again. As I thus read the book, it’s difficult to remember, but even now I remember it almost by heart. So when there was a topic about the debris Russian forest, I immediately thought the appropriate time. Who now cite as evidence of age.

The quoted passage describes how a pirate team, which was created by Petya Tomatoes, retrained, and became temporarily a green patrol. So.

It suddenly dawned on me:
– You were in the local woods?
Yeah, I led you to us. Is it a forest? Under every Bush – banks, Newspapers and broken bottles. Some cigarette butts, a million! And as this forest is not burned?
– All clear, ‘ I told him. – Go to sleep.
– What pirates say? They’re a secret matter entrusted…
– Tell all the pirates: a case. And not only for them. You are here Les wish and protect, take care of him, uncle?
Petya like jump on the bed:
And how did I not think of this before?! Hang in there, gardeners!
And disappeared.


Next is the missing description of the training patrol to the door and then went out to the forest. And more…

The patrol was a chain, Petya was daydreaming and suddenly bumped into Thanks.
– Shh… – he hissed and Roy looked back at them. – Attention! Object number one.
And all lay down. The path moved three: fat man with a huge basket, thin woman with Chinese umbrella and the boy average body condition with a grid, from which protruded bottles of soda.
For a family group, quietly commanded Roy – short dashes… the right one… March!!!
The man soon got tired and went to the lawn, the woman and boy.
– God knows what! – suddenly roared the man. – An hour going through the woods and spit everywhere is a garbage pit!
He kicked at the pile of cans, and they flew in all directions, gleaming in the sun.
Finally the head of the family found the net clearing and with pleasure sank down on the grass.
– Beauty! – gleefully said it. – Grass! The air! My God, how old am I in the woods was not!
The woman smiled:
– Well like! And sighed deeply.
And the boy uncorked the bottle on the tree, sucked all the bottom and how to kill it on the oak – so the pieces and glittered. The man even jumped:
– Are you stunned? Outrageous. Throw away – no eye can stay!
The woman gently pulled the boy by the ear:
– Misha, don’t excite dad. Oh, huliganchika.
Petya Roy hissed in his ear:
– I have it now!
– Wait, – stopped him with Roy. Early.
Family long and with appetite ate. The guys even Slyunkov flowed. Of course! Smoked sausage, “Salmon in tomato sauce”, “Sprats”, pickled cucumbers, crispy bread…
– I’m going home, ‘ said the man. Soon our train. Went slowly.
And they went. And on the lawn there was a pile of broken bottles (the boy tried to), three cans, all sorts of bones, pieces of bread, scraps of Newspapers

So in Soviet times, the surrounding space was littering – only way to go.

As for the “Russian mess”, I say – who throws out the garbage is not where it should be, he is not Russian. How much would it there on himself St. George ribbon does not cling and no matter how much #he abanyiginya. Russian – do not litter. NE NADO MUSORIT’. That’s the slogan of the day. And littering – the Russian-speaking rednecks.


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