Blockade

2024 Author: Seth Attwood | [email protected]. Last modified: 2023-12-16 15:55

Sometimes you make amazing discoveries where you don't expect …

We all know about the tragic blockade of Leningrad, when the whole city was taken into an enemy ring and only brave drivers along the Road of Life through ice breaking through under the wheels of frail trucks, under constant bombardment, miraculously broke through into the dying city so that someone would get a crust of bread …

All this was, we do not doubt for a second, my St. Petersburg relatives were blockade, of course, how could it be otherwise, after all.

Then, when you start to "wake up" and learn from completely official sources that in besieged Leningrad they not only died of hunger, but also worked in factories, produced tanks and cannons … Wait a second, what kind of tricks? What cannons? Where does the electricity come from in such quantities? Where does the fuel come from? Who in these factories could work hard when people with difficulty drove sledges with corpses through the streets?

And just now I came across an article in the almost tabloid magazine Story about the bad poetess Olga Bergolts, who adored Lenin and the Bolsheviks all her youth, then ended up in prison, then got out, got into the war, in that very Leningrad, and became the herald of his sorrow and courage. She writes poems, goes hungry, practically dies of dystrophy, but then, on March 12, 1942 … she gets on a plane and flies to Moscow. In his diary from that day he writes: “I live in the“Moscow”hotel. Warm, cozy, light, satisfying, hot water. To Leningrad! Only to Leningrad! Towards doom! Oh, rather to Leningrad! I am already bothering to leave …”.

Karl, what is this? And the Road of Life? Why do you need it, if you can easily get on a plane, fly to Moscow, live in a central hotel, and when you get tired of warming up and eating, sit back on the plane and fly back to sacrifice yourself and write poetry?..

I turn the page and find out that “it was a shock for her to learn that no one knows anything about the Leningrad tragedy, it seems to her that the city is betrayed, forgotten. Moscow's almost peaceful realities are perceived by her with hostile disgust. She doesn't want to be saved. She wants to go back."

Karl, do you understand? It turns out that the blockade of Leningrad is not a tragedy of the level of detention of Pussy Riot or the ink on Nasralny's face, which the whole country, dull from TV, will find out about in the blink of an eye. For 600 km from Leningrad, no one seems to even know about the horrors happening there. But what about the reports from the fronts? After all, the blockade was not invented, as was invented by the Panfilovites, Kosmodemyanskiy, Kalashnikov, etc. Or is it not without "historical creativity" here too?

I will not deduce morality. As we did not know the truth, we will never find out. But there is evidence, like the one quoted above, which suggests a slightly different nature …

Recently, I increasingly recall my long-standing fantasy multivolume saga "Torlon" (without dragons and witchcraft, by the way, completely real), which I wrote long before acquaintance with the topic of Flat Earth, I wrote completely, as usual, intuitively, and was pre-intuitive before the fact that a whole, one might say, medieval city lives between a wide river and a dense forest and does not even think about going to one side or the other, at least for exploration, because rumor frightens both of them, and those who every two or three generations make attempts to look beyond this natural blockade, they are considered crazy heroes or just crazy, whose example only gives a reason to strengthen the opinion that "we don't need anywhere, we are fine here too." After all, we are, in fact, talking about a prison (which is more and more often today, if you have noticed, they call our life or our Earth as a whole), but only the shackles on people are not cast iron, but invisible, mental, but therefore even more durable and indelible. “Science considers it impossible” is a great reason to relax and go about your business, which is very important, because “you have to take everything from life,” that is, die as soon as possible and more stupid to “live until Friday”, be horrified by “Monday tomorrow” and again harness yourself into a senseless fuss - cut blockade rations, carry corpses on sleds and write sad poetry. Or maybe, well, him, get on a plane and fly away somewhere outside the prison to warm up and not think that those who remain there call you a madman? …