Frontline sketches #1
The longer the war lasted, the more I thought about when it would end. Unfortunately, the forecasts were not too optimistic - a lot of factors indicated the probability of a protracted massacre. Everyone understood it, but they didn't say it out loud - no one wanted to believe it. I didn't want to believe it either, so when they asked me what I thought about it, I answered something like: "Tomorrow the Führer will choke on a pistachio and everything will be over." It was actually quite real. If we recall the events that took place in my country in 2014, then there was a rather tough street confrontation with the authorities and no one expected that one day the traitorous president just escaped. What was happening promised to be long and difficult, but the revolution ended suddenly, and it was completed with our victory. However, there is a nuance: after the revolution, the orcs in mordor got excited and started a localized war, which after 8 years suddenly turned into a big one.
It is needlessly to expect from so-called society of the orc's country something more than single-person pickets. Military coup was impossible either, because enemies army was ruled by the court plywood marshals. The damned bunker rat was 70, so it was too implausible to expect him to die of old age: Fidel Castro, for example, lived to be 90 years old. And although he officially handed over the last position in 85, the Rolling Stones concert in Cuba took place only 2 years before his death. It was not very believed that the leader of the orcs would fall ill with something incurable - he had too many opportunities to prevent the deterioration of his health. Therefore, actually, the most interesting for my imagination was the version of a sudden senseless death, which would be very suitable for this homegrown pol pot.
It is hard to imagine how wonderful it would be to read his necrologue in the morning news. This world would change one tiny nut! This would give birth to a real pistachio cult. People would paint pistachios on the walls, write songs about them and make humorous sketches. They would print them on T-shirts and wear elaborate elegant silver pistachios jewerlies around their necks. One after another, there would be silly tik-toks with people dancing in pistachio costumes. In many cities of my country, a variety of thematic monuments would be created, near which the smoked students would gather and arrange dates.
The pistachio would become an authoritative symbol of resistance and retribution. It would be a neat, minimalist sign that could easily fit into any design - a universal tattoo that will never lose its meaning. Perhaps the popularity of the pistachio would even surpass that of Jesus, and the symbol itself would sell better than the Christian cross. The essence of both of these symbols would be similar: they would remind a person of salvation.
I probably would not stand aside and, pretending not to succumb to mass hysteria, would quietly plant a pistachio on my windowsill. Every morning I would water its saying, “Grow, little one, I believe in you. Perhaps one day you will find your Führer as well. Grow in memory of those who turned into soil in order for something new to grow from it."
