Moveable Feast Cafe 2016/10/03 … Open Thread

Good evening to everyone, in the picture above is still daylight on the terasse, people are discussing, having a beer, a coffee. Maybe there is somewhere some music. Ah, music…you know the famous actor Anthony Hopkins, do you ? well, did you know that he composed a beautiful waltz ? One day, the famous musician André Rieu got a phone call from him, with the request from Anthony to play his composition if he thinks that is good enough… So, listen and watch with your ears and eyes (and heart) :
https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=M57Fi19vcSI

A few years ago, the same André Rieu has made a concert in Mexico. In this short clip you will see and hear the famous Cielito Lindo , but not just by the orchestra but from and with the public. Look at their happy faces, look at their tremendous joy, look at the life itself…what this man(André Rieu ) has done, with the beauty of his music…some people are crying in their happiness, and my heart is warming up till tears, seeing them :

https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=U3HKC67A__o

I thought this poem resonates with the times…

Russia by Yu. Klyuchnikov

Birches and snowbanks,
Rivers and meadows,
The welcoming sun in the skies.
For thousands of miles,
‘Neath myriad starlights,
My Russia rings out like a song.
Plunderers trampled it,
Ravagers strangled it,
Wanting to slay body and soul,
But no one can kill us,
Corrupt us, or buy us,
Or turn us into Europeans.
We threaten no conflicts,
We shake up no purses,
Our smiles and words are not lying.
At the hour of dying
We make no grimaces,
We truly foresee life eternal.
Birches and snowbanks,
Rivers and meadows,
A heavenly coolness and joy.
We sorrow o’er nothing,
We do want for nothing.
God gave Russia all that it needs.

Once again thank you this site for being here –

Rant –

We are not supposed to judge people by images from past memories, rather we should live for the moment so that life is fresh. But how can I un-remember the image of HRC laughing at Gadaffi’s murder.

Similarly, diversity is everything, apartheid is death. But how can I not look at the AngloZionist nations(and not only this ethnicity) and not say, huh, you claim but do not do.

For example: I’ve known, worked with and for American/Canadian/Oz/Subcontinent and Jewish people and I like individuals. But how can I like and accept that the elite of such people have to either own or destroy everything, and I do mean everything…..

Jewish/Zionist/Neo people own everything of consequence in the USA. They want to own everything in S America and the ME – therefore Iraq, Libya, Syria,+ Brazil, Venezuela etc. etc….They must control Asia. They appear to need to own the world. Why.
….And then, I look at the Russian Ambassador to India and think (without knowing) that he is a Jew. ….+ I do expect that such people already own finance in the RF.

Therefore my image has been spoiled. I wish it weren’t so.

Below is a link to a video that offers another perspective on current events, as does this site of course. The significant point being that it gives this different perspective from an actual US lawmaker….

https://youtu.be/mEsTv5cUFg0

Life in Derevnia

Derevnia is a largish village nestled on the eastern foothills of the Ural Mountains next to a little river flowing into the Sosva on its way into the Arctic Ocean.

It is a typical Russian village with its ornate timber houses randomly scattered here and there surrounded by large gardens with a variety of jerry-built outbuildings for sheltering horses, cows, pigs, goats and fowl. There are also larger sheds for keeping garden tools, the motorized tillers, quad bikes and other household implements and barns for storing hay, straw and garden produce.

There are no car garages though in this village, or the ones still seen round here have been converted to other uses, because there are no cars. The village is less than half mile across and, should one need to go elsewhere, there is a bus service to the nearest town and from there trains and buses to anywhere else. Besides, should the need arise, the local community centre has a minibus always ready for emergencies and other services.

I teach at the local elementary school where pupils acquire basic education from 6 to 10 years of age. All of them have already attended creches-kindergarten and most are able to read and write by the time they come to primary school. After completing the first four years of basic schooling, they move on to another six years of general education at the nearest town school.

The village life revolves around work at the local kolkhoz where most of the 600 residents spend their time, which varies according to the seasons, from no work at all in winter – except some maintenance tasks, milking the cows and feeding the stock on a roster system – to ten and twelve hours daily at harvests when all residents, children and old, join in to collect the produce at the right time.

Although most households are food self-sufficient from their gardens and individual allotments for their basic needs, they supplement their diet from the kolkhoz crops and the local food store for exotic and out of season items. The kolkhoz could alone provide the greater part of their food needs (milk, cheese, butter, cereals, fresh meat, sausages, bacon, veggies, broad beans, potatoes, carrots, onions, etc) but the villagers prefer to tinker in their gardens and grow the plant varieties they prefer, such as tomatoes grown in greenhouses and fruits of their liking. The food supply is organized on the basis of communal needs to prevent unnecessary duplication and waste: for instance, the residents are spared the drudgery of digging out taters in their individual allotments and rely on the kolkhozy highly mechanized crop production unless they wish to taste their own desiree, sarovsky or banana varieties. Self-reliance is a very important element in the village economy because of the savings to the national economy from reduced transport costs.

Apart from supplying food for local consumption and its contribution to the national agrarian plan in past years, the kolkhoz also produces enough energy from biomass and biogas generated from manure to satisfy its own and village needs although the old electricity grid is still operational should the need arise to supplement local production.

So, apart from some innovations (almost complete self-sufficiency, absence of cars) what else is so peculiar to Derevnia?

There is no money in the village, it has been banished.

The local soviet made a resolution in the 1960s to the effect that they should strive for self-sufficiency as far as possible and, as long as they complied with their contribution to the national 5-year plan, they were free to do as they like. In fact, one party big-wig in Moscow thought it was a great idea and suggested a pilot study to determine the feasibility of the project. In the event it proved to be a success, the same scheme would be applied to all USSR on a voluntary basis, hopefully leading to universal acceptance.

It worked so well that a committee of far-seeing bureaucrats suggested that the pilot study should go one step further with the aim to stop trading altogether, which generally involves the speculator middleman adding to and appropriating for himself the surplus value of a commodity, the original sin of capitalism. As a first step, money-commodity would be banned in the village. After all, the aim of Communism was to do away with all the bourgeois abominations, money being the quintessential one.

The Derevnians were so pleased with their pioneering efforts to shorten the passage to communism that they devoted themselves to the task with sovietic zeal. Of course they soon realised that in their dealings with outsiders they had to use money, namely to buy clothing and other consumer goods but soon they made barter arrangements with the suppliers to their community store. The bartering system already existed anyway in the store, which was basically a consumer co-operative where the locals “sold” whatever they had produced by themselves (using the labour of another person not allowed) and the monetary value of the article was added to their credit account, which was used then to purchase something they wanted like a leather coat, watch or a bicycle.

By the time Gorbachev started dismantling the Soviet Union, the Derevnia soviet called a meeting of all residents to discuss their future and by unanimous vote they decided to forge ahead with their plans to abolish money and bring communism to their village.

The community store is the only financial link to the outside world. Within the village, the hairdresser, doctor, teacher, kolkohz worker, priest or any other person work for no reward other than being provided with all they need from the store. Things that are needed but not available locally (say, wine or spectacles) are settled or ordered from the outside by the store.

To fund the external payments for goods and services, the community store receives from the kolkhoz the equivalent to its former contribution to the national economic plan with adjustments being made as needed and approved by the soviet or residents in congress. If there is an extraordinary item of expenditure (say, a surgical operation on a resident patient or an expensive item for public works) its payment requires soviet approval.

The soviet is elected annually and meets weekly in order to respond timely to any request for unusual expenditure and will meet at any time in emergencies even by telephone if necessary, three members being required to make decisions to be ratified at the weekly meeting. As in the old USSR, the soviet members can be recalled (dismissed) any time by the residents.

Although the success of the experiment relies on the honesty and goodwill of the residents, its educational value is paramount to reinforce the values of fairness, sharing, co-operation and solidarity. Basically there is no wrongdoing in this community and there are no laws to enforce compliance with good behaviour. Under such conditions it is very hard for anyone to deviate from what the community expects and should one abuse his entitlement, social reprobation is enough punishment and, if a recalcitrant layabout does not mend his ways, he’ll incur the displeasure of the community and gradual deprivation of privileges (e.g. withdrawing rights from the community store) as decided by the soviet or residents congress.

We are very happy with this community, as it might have been soon enough had it not been for vile leaders.

As Plato said, the first quality for a good Guardian is not wanting to be a Guardian.

Chinese Physicists Develop Quantum Radar That Can Detect Stealth Jets

https://sputniknews.com/military/20161004/1045974842/china-quantum-radar-stealth.html

“In theory, a quantum radar needs only one returning photon to determine an object’s composition, the direction it is headed and its speed.

This might sound like something from a science fiction novel, but the radar, according to CETC, has already been tested. The system intercepted targets located 100 kilometers away during a recent field trial, but some say that the maximum range could be greater.

“The figure in declassified documents is usually a tuned-down version of the real [performance],” Professor Ma Xiaosong, a physicist at Nanjing University, told South China Morning Post. “The announcement has gone viral [in the radar research community].”

The new system, according to CETC, has additional advantages, including small size and resilience to countermeasures.”

Keep in mind that long wave radars have no trouble detecting stealth items.

Love is the be-all and end-all of my life. I have been sorely disappointed in its actual physicality so I have turned to virtuality. In that virtual world, this cafe is fulfilling my unrequited desires in ways I never dreamed of. Ironically, all because of war. This saying is true: all is fair in love and war. I don’t know what that means but if I don’t find it out here, I probably never will.

I’ve got serious matters on my mind but until they come out of the dark, here’s a little 21 line ditty that I think is pretty:

The travelers form a band
In the purple mountain land
The troubadours sing
At the feast of the king
The queen was seen
At six sixteen
The prince plays hearts
The cook bakes tarts
The jester tells tales
About Ireland and Wales
Ladies listen within
To the royal magician
About the ten good men
The knight tells a story
About the days of glory
The nobles raise a toast
To the lords in purple robes
The fool falls down
And breaks his crown
The travelers take their stand
In the purple valley land

I’ve been thinking about the ideal, beautiful living of the Russian community of Derevnia as described above, and pondering the principles of an inclusive lifestyle, where true brother and sisterhood may be experienced and benefitted from on a practical level, down to the smallest details, on a daily basis.

But ‘what men live by’, the spirit light radar, that great encompassing light of a wisdom that connects us to the earth and to the cosmos, without this, what will happen to Derevnia?

Mikhail Zoschenko, who based his humorous and satirical story “Electrification”; on Lenin’s slogan in relation to communism and the electrification of Russia, was alluding to this .light.

Here is another story by him, written in the early 1920’s again, when communal apartments and crowded housing, or living were very prevalent

Nervous People, by Mikhail Zoschenko.

Not long ago in our communal apartment there was a fight. And not just any fight, but a full-out battle. On the corner of Glazova and Borova.
Of course in their hearts the fight was virtuous. The invalid Gavrilov near got his lone head chopped off.
The main reason – folks are very nervous. Erupt over trivialities. Lose control. And fight dirty, like in a fog.
Of course they say that after a civil war the people are always jittery. That may be so, but ideology won’t heal Gavrilov’s head any faster.
So at nine o’clock in the evening one tenant, Marya Vasilyevna Shchiptsova, comes into the kitchen to light her primus stove. You know, she always lights her primus about this time, drinks tea and applies compresses.
So she comes in the kitchen. Sets the primus before her and sparks it. But it fails completely, won’t light.
She thinks, “What, the devil won’t light? Must be sooted up, that’s the problem.”
In her left hand she grabs a brush and sets to clean it.
As she is about to clean, holding the brush in her left hand, another tenant, Darya Petrovna Kobylina, whose brush it is, sees what of hers has been taken and replies:
“Incidentally, Marya Vasilyevna deary, you can just put that brush back where it belongs.”
Shchiptsova of course flares at these words and answers:
“Darya Petrovna, please go choke on your fucking brush. I don’t care to touch the disgusting thing, much less pick it up.”
Darya Petrovna Kobylina of course erupts at these words. They began to talk, just the two of them. Their volume grows, shouting, banging.
Darya’s husband, Ivan Stepanich Kobylin, who really owns the brush, comes to the ruckus. He is a stout man, even pot-bellied, but in his own way, a nervous type.
He enters and says:
“I work,” he says, “I work like a driven elephant for thirty-two rubles and a few kopecks in the co-op, and smile,” – he says – “smile at customers and weigh their sausage. By my labored coins I buy my own brushes, and there’s no way in Hell I’m letting some stranger use my brushes.”
Again noise breaks out, discussion rises around the brush. Of course all tenants barge in the kitchen. Much bumping about. The invalid Gavrilich also shows up.
“What is this,” he says, “such commotion, and no fight?”
Right after these words a fight is verified. Off it went.
But our mini-kitchen, you know, is narrow. Inappropriate for fighting. Tight. All around are pans and primus stoves. Nowhere to turn. And in it twelve people are crammed. If, for example, you wish to smack the mug of one, you punch three. And of course, one bumps into things, falls over. And you know, a one-legged invalid – had he three legs he couldn’t keep his balance there.
But despite this, the crazy devil of the invalid goes barreling into the very thick of it. Ivan Stepanich, who owns the brush, shouts at him:
“Get out of this mess, Gavrilich. You’ll lose your other leg!”
“So let me lose my leg!” Gavrilich replies. “I can’t leave now. I’ve already bled, and my pride is wounded.”
And that minute someone pummels him in the snout. He doesn’t leave and goes on the attack. Then someone clocks the invalid on the skull with a saucepan.
Down kicks the invalid and just lies there. Has a bored look.
Here some parasite runs for the militia.
A cop shows. He shouts:
“Get your coffins ready you devils, ’cuz I’m gonna shoot!”
Only after these fateful words do the people somewhat compose themselves. They scamper to their rooms.
“By what madness,” they think, “did such fine citizens as us come to blows?”
All the people had run to their rooms, only the invalid Gavrilich does no running. He’s lying on the floor looking bored. And blood drips out his dome.
Court convened two weeks after these facts.
As well the People’s Judge turned out such a nervous type – he really nailed us.

For those who think Trump team is an alternative to Killery-Paine: Pence is the worst of the worst, maybe not a neocon, but corruptible to do their bidding. And his comments on Russia during the debate were totally ill informed to say the least–he is for a “no fly zone” and Putin is a “beast” etc.

http://www.counterpunch.org/2016/10/05/enter-sandman-the-pence-kaine-sleepwalk/

I want to get this up before I go down:

The gathering storm threatens one and all
The inexorable fate of man’s first fall
Why? I ask in my mind’s confused condition
A voice whispers in my ear: performance contra-diction

I do the same things over and over
Put my faith in a four leaf clover
I can’t understand the enemy’s foul perdition
A voice whispers in my ear: performance contra-diction

What aren’t my prayers answered religiously?
Or my good efforts rewarded prodigiously?
Why must I endure such insidious sedition?
A voice whispers in my ear: performance contra-diction

I go to church on Sunday and work on Monday
Pay my taxes and obediently jog the runway
Why do I suffer this insufferable rendition?
A voice whispers in my ear: performance contra-diction

I vote for the best and reject the rest
I went for the gold and passed the test
I lived my life with steadfast conviction
A voice whispers in my ear: performance contra-diction

I married young and had five kids
I stay with my wife when she hits the skids
I can tell hard facts from phony fiction
A voice whispers in my ear: performance contra-diction

I sent my son to fight in the army
I gave my daughter a handsome dowry
I took the heat and ironed out the friction
A voice whispers in my ear: performance contra-diction

I wrote to the papers about justice and truth
I gave money and forsook the dogma of tooth for tooth
I upheld the law and righteous tradition
A voice whispers in my ear: performance contra-diction

Why I ask you is my life a living hell?
Why isn’t it a happy wedding bell?
Why was I the only honest to God politician?
A voice whispers in my ear: performance contra-diction”

Juan Carlos Monedero describing in seconds the lies of neoliberalism:

https://mobile.twitter.com/bernardallorent

Called upon my military guru about WWRD ( what would Russia do) and this time he indulged me for once:
1. rally Iran ( somehow get the base back that for political internal reasons, the Iranians had to back out of) Surely they understand that the “great game” has changed.
2 get together an all out push to quickly take Aleppo–rally Hezbollah and Iranian troops, send maybe more Russian special forces.
3. Iskander missiles… check with Turkey ( by the way Putin is visiting today) and get the OK to hit Incerlik should the US try to missile barrage or send planes.
4. Nuke tip some of them after going to UN to evoke international law—right to self defense and right of the nation state to defend its boundaries. If you use them…have clean up teams ready to spiffy up the area afterwards. Use them against a special forces rat’s nest ( training camp for Daesch) in the desert.
5. Don’t be the first to blink.

Music for the café, from Russian composer Alfred Schnittke, in response to slaughterhouse poem …

https://youtu.be/N1U4tN_ZUt0

THE DESTRUCTION OF SENNACHERIB
George Gordon (Lord) Byron (1788-1824)

The Assyrian came down like the wolf on the fold,
And his cohorts were gleaming in purple and gold;
And the sheen of their spears was like stars on the sea,
When the blue wave rolls nightly on deep Galilee.
 
Like the leaves of the forest when Summer is green,
That host with their banners at sunset were seen:
Like the leaves of the forest when Autumn hath blown,
That host on the morrow lay withered and strown.
 
For the Angel of Death spread his wings on the blast,
And breathed in the face of the foe as he passed;
And the eyes of the sleepers waxed deadly and chill,
And their hearts but once heaved, and for ever grew still!
 
And there lay the steed with his nostril all wide,
But through it there rolled not the breath of his pride;
And the foam of his gasping lay white on the turf,
And cold as the spray of the rock-beating surf.
 
And there lay the rider distorted and pale,
With the dew on his brow, and the rust on his mail:
And the tents were all silent, the banners alone,
The lances unlifted, the trumpet unblown.
 
And the widows of Ashur are loud in their wail,
And the idols are broke in the temple of Baal;
And the might of the Gentile, unsmote by the sword,
Hath melted like snow in the glance of the Lord!