ABBA VITE namely Doctor Solzhenitsof's novel

[SOLZHENITSOF]

HE WORST VIZ. THE BEST

By Prof. MES SOLZHENITSOF

Continuing from the previous chapters...

FINALE-BOOK, SAY TO BE CONTINUED IN THE FORM OF PURE ART

(Tags: Soviet influence, Iran, North Korea, Turkey, Syria, Morsi’s Egypt, Cuba

STORY XIX


SHORT, BRIGHT ADVENTURES OF A CHAMPION WHO WAS LATE FOR THE OLYMPICS AND MADE UP FOR HIS DELAY

He had saved a few pennies from his previous wrestling matches. When he was late for the games due to the flu and was unranked, he naturally felt unranked. To fully understand what was going on, he rented a modest helicopter and began observing the competition areas from above. Apart from disappointments, everyone was tired due to the heat prevailing in Europe. There was no one around that you could say was weak, had participated in international games and was still alive. Of course, literally no one... In many branches, many competitors, turned into reptiles and incapable of taking a step, could be examined in full detail through the windows of the flight device when viewed with modest binoculars. The picture before him was this: the half-dead champions of dozens of branches were coming towards him. He felt pain in his right groin due to joy and he was afraid. If it was his left side, there would be no need to worry, but the right side is the appendix area and requires attention. He quickly overcame his concerns because the closer he was to youth, the less close he was to death. He didn't even have time to spare split-seconds about his health. If the problem awaiting him was to seize the medals of all branches from top to bottom in an environment of endless competitions where almost no one was left standing, this problem could not be solved without a plan and a program. In order for the competitions to bring him good luck, he began to pronounce the word "program" several times as "programme" with the accent of inappropriate and inappropriate ministers, and danced in the rhythm of a waltz. Their single strike and double jump had thrown the helicopter off balance; They almost crashed, but the pilot made the landing in a short time. With his permission, the champion started running towards the stadium at a good pace, wearing the competition jersey he had brought, which would suit volleyball, wrestling, long jump, pole vault, shot put, whatever comes to mind. Since the sport was celebrated all over the world, even skateboards, let alone cars, stopped respectfully and gave way; He waved to all of them and promised to sign pictures for all of them. Giggling deeply, he swore in the depths of his soul to get all the medals and ran to the entrance stairs of the stadium.


TO BE CONTINUED...

[SOLZHENITSOF]

HE WORST VIZ. THE BEST

By Prof. MES SOLZHENITSOF

Continuing from the previous chapters...

FINALE-BOOK, SAY TO BE CONTINUED IN THE FORM OF PURE ART

(Tags: Soviet influence, Iran, North Korea, Turkey, Syria, Morsi’s Egypt, Cuba

STORY XX

A NOTARIZED WAR EPIC

He had returned to rage against the darkness; His epaulettes were on his crowded uniform. When the symbols are interpreted, it can be thought that he is the greatest commander representing Caesar, but how meaningful can all these be? If all the Caesars are dead, Rome has collapsed, and even the Renaissance, that is, rebirth, has been lost in the depths of history in Europe. Episode number one is here, as if infertility inspires, or rather, the story begins to be told to end itself at the beginning. Isn't there this short history of the world... that leaves the reader neither trusting in the future nor longing for the past? Undoubtedly, the entire fault lies in empty word connections such as "like"... The Roman general - perhaps a field marshal - returned after a thousand years, to a place not found in geography, to settle accounts with the darkness. Therefore, there was no need for a wind; What must be understood is that the showdown was about to begin. Indeed, it did. As darkness fell, it was impossible to know which side was invisibility or not... Then, the leader of great importance shouted:
-Hold me accountable, my light-deprived soul!
-Why do you call me fake? Am I not volume?
-Are you lonelier than me? What is this repetition of self?
-The highest rank you hold should oblige both you and me to speak carefully. Be careful, how can we defend ourselves if the biggest terrorist attack in history takes place tomorrow, a few seconds after our conversation is recorded, in New York, I don't know, and the blame is placed on our cryptic but high-pitched conversations?
(The Marshal could never accept being held accountable in the square where he went to ask for an account. Besides, wouldn't that leave his whole adventure without the option of being read... let alone being read, remembered, let alone being remembered, let alone being recorded? Of course, he got very angry. However, he met with darkness here, no color could be reflected from his hand to show that he was angry. Whatever his face, his eyes, he had no choice but to resort to the method known to every intellectual who had been in the countryside during wartime in Italy: He was caught up in the yellow anger with green spots on it. It did not take long for every square inch of a huge, lightless volume to comprehend the rage.) The other party spoke again:
-I can't respond to you, please forgive me.
-Do not talk; Please shut up, shut up, shut up. You are no more alone than me.
(The darkness did not tolerate the Marshal, who had previously marched on him with a song that was the favorite of all the goateed, devoutly religious and rich song lovers in the Holy Land; nor did he respond to his words. This time, the other party was caught up in a storm of anger that could not be called decent.)
The shout, which carried the showdown to more fiery territory, was literally bombarding the ears in the dark middle sphere:
-Listen to me! It took 400-500 years with an infantry march to visit the living or seriously injured bodies of all the relatives and acquaintances of those who were lost, whether on the battlefields and in the trenches, in front of field hospitals or in homes. Those who step even a small part of this path see not only pale faces and weak hands reaching out for help, but also deprived of the means of conversation (because, to put it in parenthesis, all of those lying and stretched out somewhere are acquaintances, far, near, friend, enemy, who cannot carry their memories to the point of conversation enough for a conversation). He was being forced into very strange, if not painful, communications.


TO BE CONTINUED...

[SOLZHENITSOF]

HE WORST VIZ. THE BEST

By Prof. MES SOLZHENITSOF

Continuing from the previous chapters...

FINALE-BOOK, SAY TO BE CONTINUED IN THE FORM OF PURE ART

(Tags: Soviet influence, Iran, North Korea, Turkey, Syria, Morsi’s Egypt, Cuba

The Story with no Koechel Number

BANQUETS IN THE CONCENTRATION CAMP
(Instead of which Auswitzh-Birkenau will always remain dirty!)


Mrs. Ely, who had spent her childhood in one of the known concentration camps where she had been hosted to be killed, made a discovery despite her advanced age not too much fitting to creating new things, say innovation: If the most valuable elements of the enemy fronts, namely the cooks and laces type works of theirs, were to be considered something to have belonged to the centers of extermination of the gathered people, sometimes the best quality meat would have been forcibly collected from the surroundings. They sometimes turned into the center of feasts due to their abundance of vegetables, half grinded wheat, milk, etc. Although the apparels of the prisoners viz. their inadequate clothing and the harsh, cold climate of Poland made the camp victims mush more colder than the primitive humans in stone age, even shivering, and even exposed to cold torture. However, if it was summer, and the guards had collected apples, lamb meat, the best cucumbers, flour, milk, jam or comb honey, etc. from the surrounding area, they would share the feast dishes they made with the prisoners of war, such as potato dressed lamb stew, cream cake, seasonal salad, seasoned tomato soup and so on. "Mankind does not like waste," muttered Miss Ely, and she sat down and wrote a long letter to the leader of one of the great migrations - whose name is needless to mention - entitled "Respect for the Need for Feasts". After a formal but short introduction, the content of the letter was formatted as follows:
Dear sir, the mistake in considering concentration camps as one hundred percent disaster areas is still there. When even the most delicious food in the world is compared to the banquets there, the fierce propaganda against the camps can be considered one-sided, false-false, and I beg your pardon, aphrodisiac, and like every mistake, this situation imposes a responsibility on people to correct it. I had a friend among the hundreds, perhaps thousands, of rodents roaming around my camp.
When I was awake, I exaggeratedly showed that I was afraid of mice because of the need to produce more intense maternal love, but after I fell asleep, I would know that my friend, the mouse, was pacing on my face, but at the same time, I did not know it because of the pressure of my phobia. What prompted you to become friends with him? Of course, those banquets are cheating. Even if they are not concentration camps, having more than one guard in places similar to ours, even if they are not concentration camps, has been banned worldwide as a result of an important initiative taken by human dignity protection associations. According to the association, one would have to be less intelligent than the monkeys to escape from the camp. However, Mankind is beyond this - yes, temporary but magnificent banquets that include everyone, every living being, until the sacrifice that we know will be sent to the ovens that burn people a few hours later... etcetera...
What etcetera? Concentration centers, in other words concentration camps, may have many features that cannot be considered harmful or beneficial to health. However, this is never the time to waste time counting these. When man and the act of collecting come together, the greatest crime is committed, my dear elder. Because humans are not waste, even imagining a place to collect them is most likely the only crime committed against humanity! In my explanation, a good qualification that is carefully highlighted and presented in the foreground cannot justify the concentration center.
Auswitzh-Birkenau will always remain dirty...!

TO BE CONTINUED...

[SOLZHENITSOF]

HE WORST VIZ. THE BEST

By Prof. MES SOLZHENITSOF

Continuing from the previous chapters...

FINALE-BOOK, SAY TO BE CONTINUED IN THE FORM OF PURE ART

(Tags: Soviet influence, Iran, North Korea, Turkey, Syria, Morsi’s Egypt, Cuba

STORY XXI

THE VISTA CEREMONY

It was quite interesting to witness the semi-formal ceremony celebrated in a garden adjoining a plot of land. In fact, the witness was neither in the land nor in the garden. As can be guessed, he is the observer, placed in a dark room between the bed and the desk, behind one of the curtains that have never been hung.
It is impossible to write down that moment, for example, when we crave moussaka, under a single descriptive adjective, even though it is a gathering occasion that will be considered important during the description and it is felt that it will cause harm without being noticed. Unfortunately, what spoils everything in human expressions is the emergence of the same result, both in abbreviations and in abbreviations: a pattern that is known to be meaningful but whose meaninglessness cannot be denied. As a matter of fact, our hero worth mentioning is of Esquire Sa..., who works both as a shopkeeper and as a headman, and who gets a thousand greetings if he tries to take a step on the street because he is known around him. He is dressed in a seasonal suit, and it is understood that he takes care to choose his tie and socks in the same color. It is difficult to say 'in short, it was like this' for his momentary situation... The best part is trying to benefit from his state of being covered in black cloak in the late evening, by not being interrupted, even if he had not planned it before.
With the people around him, he decided to reduce himself to a shape somewhere between a polygon and a crooked circle, and entered the space between houses, which could be considered large for his middle-class neighborhood, by increasing the heat and intensity of his explanations.
It was a two-storey, cardboard-brown workplace whose exterior paint was fading, disrupting the smoothness of the area on the right side of the area or plot, whose soil was bluish-ash colored. The street lamps, which had now started to turn on one by one, were changing the brightness difference between the blocks adjacent to the store or visually ignoring it, depending on your perspective... Don't laugh now.
As for the upper floor, it should be brought to attention because it is likely to interest every reader. Of course, it was necessary to present it as a repository-archive-whatever-whatever it is in my writing, and after such a definition about it, even if the following section is not read and Mr. Sa...'s explanations are not paid attention to, there will be no loss of what is told.
To sum up the subject, it should be remembered that finding special times in social life is important. However, there are neither too many nor too many of them that are considered important enough to celebrate their anniversaries. What do anniversaries mean to society? Let's remember whose name is the question "What does it mean?": In civil law terms, the head of the family.
Can the person making the statements and the respectable middle-sized crowd listening to him all have the same name as the head of the family? Maybe. However, the coincidence of that person being a particular father, that is, the father of one person and another simultaneously, is considered disgraceful even in hypotheticals and cannot be tampered with. The issue is a controversial one, as those who claim to represent everyone cannot convince anyone that they are not lying.
There's no need to go on and on; When the semi-official ceremony began in the huge garden of the largest block, in front of which they could park their cars but did not come with their cars, Sabey remained silent, despite the possibility of unbearable noise that those around him might feel due to the interruption in their need to listen.

TO BE CONTINUED...

[SOLZHENITSOF]

THE WORST VIZ. THE BEST

By Prof. MES SOLZHENITSOF

Continuing from the previous chapters...

FINALE-BOOK, SAY TO BE CONTINUED IN THE FORM OF PURE ART

(Tags: Soviet influence, Iran, North Korea, Turkey, Syria, Morsi’s Egypt, Cuba

STORY XXII

NEW OTTOMANS' FALL

The owner of the house had moved his chair from the dining table set on the veranda towards the wall and looked at everyone from a distance but completely. The land of the mansion was only adjacent to the horizon, in short, the western horizon as we know it, surrounded by patches of blue atmosphere with red patches, making it unclear whether the sun setting with joy is shifting to sadness... The subject that has already been discussed is, perhaps, which should never be discussed in the name of a novel or a story, again "romance" ", but it was a work embodied in Alexander Kuprin's work called "Garnet Bracelet"; that is, the story of the last lethal blows suffered by the military structure of the Ottoman Empire. The author showed his own soldiers as concrete "Apollo"s, with blue eyes, blonde hair, pink skin, extremely healthy and even without a tooth decay, which is a hundred percent innocent approach, remaining within the limits of his personal nationalism. But it was the misery that gave him pleasure and that naturally follows the collapse of an empire. Of the pasha legend, who were living off the state, as defined by middle-sized communist intellectuals, had bought real estate with the wealth they put in their pockets, in their heyday, but now they could not rent it out, and strange to say, those who rented it by accident did not have the money to move. The situation of those who were once middle class but became poor was dire; Their situation did not mean enough poverty to take them away from this mortal world with a guarantee and not to feel unpleasant situations, even if it is not called happiness, and to carry them to a last saving breath.
Those people who did not skip their Friday prayers even under the most difficult conditions, but who were rapidly becoming poorer and whose state was defeated, still had enough money in their pockets to make them live in pain and to take them to a private doctor when necessary. Now, let's remember in a relevant way: although it is unpleasant to describe, wasn't the phase we call childhood, which makes little individuals in need of care, the basic hell on earth where everyone has to pretend to live happily? Yes, of course it is, it is a very accurate observation in terms of philosophy of life... However, our earth is a distorted world where all children live happily. The host, the founder of the conversation, added an obligatory interlude to his explanations. Since his guests are a homogeneous group who have known him and each other for who knows how many generations, we should not be surprised by the simplicity of his expression:
-"You know," he said, "my father is one of the very few well-known physicians in the province, and I am a sought-after engineer, still an architect engineer with strong contracting connections... If the calculations do not tire my life, there are plenty of job offers from outside. In fact, I am too much of a humanist, families that cannot find bread have made me a spender." I mean, a bit of a whiskey drinker. Many of us have sighed, if only for a moment, like, 'Yes, I'm happy, I wish my father was a minority, local, devout, atheist, and a famous doctor or a well-known lawyer.' But wouldn't the children realize that in the days of disaster, only those with a profession could maintain a good situation for the rich minority? The speaker finished his talk without explaining this level of intricacy to his guests. If his son, who was in middle school and had just become a religious fanatic, had not intervened, perhaps the talkative landlady, who complemented his well-cut suit with a universal brown tie and wore tobacco-colored Italian loafers, would have continued his story. The boy's interrupting observation was as follows.
-“Childhood is not enjoyable if there is no father.” In the name of humanism, this observation should also find its place: "What you call a father is the one who can exist in your absence."
A pilgrim uncle added;
-“However, the defeated state now has nothing left to defeat. Continue your sadistic observation!” Then the ice creams came, like mirage...

TO BE CONTINUED...

[SOLZHENITSOF]

THE WORST VIZ. THE BEST

By Prof. MES SOLZHENITSOF

Continuing from the previous chapters...

FINALE-BOOK, SAY TO BE CONTINUED IN THE FORM OF PURE ART

(Tags: Soviet influence, Iran, North Korea, Turkey, Syria, Morsi’s Egypt, Cuba

STORY XXIII

AVAILABLE THINGS

The building they went to to get a visa was drawn by someone unknown to which architectural school of the world he belonged, and the city carefully completed this structure. The building had a human-like face. But this was more the face of a hero with the physiognomy of a talking bull in cartoons. It had arms, and those who knew a little biology would notice that these arms were carried in the style of the wing model of a bird whose name they did not know, which had probably become extinct. The strangeness of the structure did not frighten the group of colleagues, but they decided to choose a representative from among them and carry out the process on behalf of all of them.
This person entered the front door called main aperture and reached the application. Along with it, the autumn sun also entered through the opened door, making it clear that the application counter, which looked like tan linoleum in the dusk, should actually be considered colorless. Of course, this had no benefit for business purposes, but the attentive gaze of the wild gentleman who was directed to consult had caused the person behind the official window to get excited and turn his head suddenly towards the officer's break room further back.
A lady in shopping clothes, who we must assume was the application officer's wife, immediately came out as if she was carrying out a procedure, walked towards the applicant and asked with a very broad smiling face, "What is your profession, sir?" posed the question. The representative, who had to act carefully because he represented a group of colleagues, gently said the initials of his name and surname, and in protocol style, his title of work:
"I am a certified public accountant, excuse my abbreviation, B... K...." The woman - most likely the application officer's wife - moved to this side of the counter, making her smile wider and wider, and took the applicant by the hand, taking him out the front door again and started talking: " Among the official buildings, this is perhaps the only example that will go down in history with its shape. I think the architecture from the outside will attract your attention!
"What is the word to attract my attention, madam? I'm confused. For the sake of truth, what are the accessories that resemble a lion's arm with its claws painted red, extending from between the floors, or an eagle's wing, which has smeared serum-colored stains on the tissues of its prey?" If the women are the only ones that interest you, ignore them and give up, but haven't you ever noticed the navy blue, tubular tunnels that connect some of the strange wings, resembling "u"-shaped sink drains, which a teenager can easily fit into...
Mr. Consultant B.… answered the question with a little laugh, "Is it okay... Such a masterpiece of art building in a district that looks colorful beyond imagination solves my job without even needing my application. I'm sure my job will go fast." A small pause passed, then the woman made an invitation, "Then come on, let's serve you a glass of homemade lemonade in our small service room next to the information desk..."
“I suppose you make generous use of the region's delicious lemons?” He spoke in a half-question style. The lady he addressed did not choose to speak immediately. As a matter of fact, without speaking during the small break, he just showed him pieces of sky from the large rectangular windows overlooking the corridors, adorned with blue and white striped clouds... and then started speaking again in an incredible tone, "Do you know..." he said, "everyone in this magnificent, unique state building is expecting your arrival." was waiting.
I mean, as we walk in front of the oil-gray city backdrop, we seem to dislike the milky-white peace-colored feathers blown by the same mischievous wind, as we let bakeries, places of worship, entrances to places of worship, shops and tobacco shops out of sight, so that they can pass by, and even run around listlessly under the astonished gaze of haberdashers. "The young officer must not have believed what he heard, because he turned back and changed his direction towards the official building. He was wearing a dirty smoke-colored suit, and his cream-colored shirt matched well with his pink tie. The counselor tried to end his words in a high tone that he could hear:
"Unfortunately, we all make the same mistake of choosing to rush and live in the moment."


TO BE CONTINUED...

[SOLZHENITSOF]

THE WORST VIZ. THE BEST

By Prof. MES SOLZHENITSOF

Continuing from the previous chapters...

FINALE-BOOK, SAY TO BE CONTINUED IN THE FORM OF PURE ART

(Tags: Soviet influence, Iran, North Korea, Turkey, Syria, Morsi’s Egypt, Cuba

STORY XXIV

THE TRAVELLER


A journalist who went on a career vacation for a few years without having any idea about the deserts in North America explains:
-" The soup kitchen that I entered to eat fast meatballs, the fashion of our age, was a single-storey building, if you call it a hut, it was a single-storey building, its loyalty to the hot summer was obvious, even though the entrance door was facing west - because it was under a cloudless sky and very sunny - contrary to the end of the afternoon, it was mysteriously dim. At the far end of the narrow, long dining table, which must be considered the most surprising item in the "place" in the words of the little toilet-scented mafia bastards, the light brown suit is neatly matched with the tie - however, the badge place is lined up opposite the fast-food shop and the live elm trees and armed shepherds are familiar with it. In his ironed shirt, made invisible by the effect of the playful semi-pink horizons - completely obscured by the jacket - yes, believe me, the place of the badge is made invisible - a man who is willing to leave the locality, superstitious madrasah style memorization and cruel society, is sitting and waiting for his order to arrive... At the far end, right across from him, I am I sat down. The sporty but expensive chair I was sitting on seemed to put the burden of saying "hello" to the person in front of me on my shoulders, my cheerful and tired shoulders.
-"Hello"
The man swallowed hard and was already getting ready for a long battle. I quickly scanned the surroundings with mischievous eyes to get some information from the inanimate nature. On the walls were photographs of people who had either visited this place or were famous throughout the country. The visually well-decorated walls seemed to serve as protection for the very long-stemmed living room cacti placed one step away from them. I quickly thought of getting rid of the trouble of my interlocutor, whose chance of hiding his desire to talk seemed to be zero, and I started muttering completely false idioms and proverbs to myself and, I say to my master, both the walls and the indoor cacti. The short saying, I made up on the spot was as follows: "If a purple leaf, watered with a thousand and one difficulties, turns its face to a dirty yellow, this is a very auspicious sign: As for the meaning it carries - necessarily a lie - the summary is probably as follows: A close relative of yours is currently getting married in front of the marriage officer and It means he is remembering you inside.”
Apparently, I got angry at my own private prank and uttered an ugly curse.
Because the man sitting across from me asked, 'Did you order something?' I was being addressed by a person who was disgusting, because he was far from fashion, not created for life, and whose death would be no more heartbreaking than a parasite we flush down the toilet. My interlocutor was more shameless than a cartoon rabbit chasing carrots but, for some reason, evolved into a humanized hunter, dressed in hunting clothes and even able to use a rifle.
- Instead of saying "No sir, I didn't say anything", I repeated what I said, he understood word for word, but he was forced to understand the spirit of my delirium; "I will surprise you by guessing your profession," I shouted at that time. "You are one of the individuals of a systematic religious school, or rather an anti-school school, whose irrational, even unresponsible brain has been made open to riddles by first pinching and then squeezing it."
"Dear passenger" he began his counter speech with the exclamation, "I came to this meatball restaurant-literate group of people who may find my words extremely ridiculous, but they cannot be considered important because the only issue that cannot be taken into consideration in the social universe we live in is the issue of truth-I came to wait for you-as everyone always does-and also for our "The fact that you think something about us, whether good or bad, shows that I have achieved my goal."

TO BE CONTINUED...