Always will be the sun,
Always will by my mother,
Always will be me.
These wretched lyrics, sung by a chorus of freakishly enthusiastic Russians of various ages, blared from my grandmother’s TV as my mother and I walked in. My mother hates this sort of music- in fact; it’s the only time that I’ve actually seen her flip out- and walk out- on her mother.
Kitsch. Fucking kitsch, bullshit propaganda. Hypersweet lies, idiocy, nothing: worthless.
Always will be….that blatant, nightmarish certainty,
The death of opportunity and your Goddamned Destiny; Russia’s your Rock and Safety: it holds your life in its hands, dependent child,
Take your fine little lot, take your bread, know your boundaries,
Hate those capitalist pigs, those greedy bastards! Killers, opportunists, the ones who’d sell their mother for a dime.
Love your collar, love your Country. Love your Leash.
A slight hypocrisy with the genocide, but the theory being that you can count on the sun, your mother and Russia. And you’ll always be.
Isn’t nauseating, and desperate! How can anyone watch such a pathetic cling to a passing fad of power?
I’ve always hated such things. God’s messengers always seem to beg, or steal.