RIP Claudia ...

 ... true greats are leaving us. 

An Important Family ...

... in Russian and American history. Sergei Igorevich Sikorsky lived to 100. He died on September 18, 2025. RIP. 

Farewell Ozzy.

 You will never be forgotten, you legend! Rest in Peace our dear kind and funny Lord of Darkness! 

I Am Not Going To Lie ...

David's death got me, big time. We attended our friend's wedding where in Twin Peaks Laura's body was found (a hint--it is before the bridge to Bainbridge Island) relatively recently. Yes, it is still there. The diner is still in the Snoqualmie Falls too. This whole universe could have been created only in the state of Washington. But (apart from Eraserhead) it was this which announced, fucked as it was by the studio, of a visionary of an immense scale. Forget about the Elephant Man. 

Star Wars, heh, a lobotomy to sci-fi. This was the world so bizarre and so enticing that the whole view, lacking dramatically in Herbert's books, of the Dune universe came alive. Frank Herbert, ever present on the set was in awe from David's vision. Weirding modules--that's what David's art was. Weird, bizarre and infinitely beautiful. But it was this, probably, which describes David the best. 

Of course, Harry Dean Stanton too. We live in the presence of a true artist (please, don't give me this Tarkovsky shit) and his body of work is immense. 

There will never be another him ... 

Oh, No!

 That's a huge loss. Huge ... 

David Lynch has died at the age of 78, his family announced on Thursday, Jan. 16. "It is with deep regret that we, his family, announce the passing of the man and the artist, David Lynch.  We would appreciate some privacy at this time," read a message on Facebook. "There’s a big hole in the world now that he’s no longer with us. But, as he would say, 'Keep your eye on the donut and not on the hole.' " "It’s a beautiful day with golden sunshine and blue skies all the way," they added.

RIP, David. 

We Have Been Travelling...

 ... on Saturday to Oregon and by the time we got back we have been exhausted. Sadly, Richard Tandy of Electric Light Orchestra, this incredible British band which transcended borders and cultures, passed away. Yes, that good ol' Britain of Beatles, Sweet, Supertramp, ELO and Benny Hill. The nation which is not there anymore. 

I will reiterate. At some point of time, the treatment of depression and anxiety of what will be left of the Western Civilization will include ELO's music as a critical element.
 

RIP, Richard...

In Memoriam...

 ... Der Kaizer, great and incomparable Franz Beckenbauer left us. One of the greatest who ever played the game!

Soccer icon Franz Beckenbauer, widely considered to be one of the greatest players in the history of the game, has died aged 78, according to the German football federation (DFB). The DFB called Beckenbauer “one of the best players this sport has seen and a natural leader” and said that he passed away on Sunday in Munich. No cause of death has been revealed. Beckenbauer led West Germany to two World Cup triumphs, first as a player in 1974, then as a head coach in 1990. 

It is a symbolic departure, same way as once mighty post-WW II Germany departs today, from economy to culture and finally in beloved by Franz game--two last World Cups have been nothing but dismal for Germany. Bundesmachine got broken, as did the country. 

Rest in peace, legend, who graced the game...

It Is A Sad Day.

Not just Pele. Russians lost a music figure of scale (even Progarchives  list him) today, whose electronic music permeated Soviet art. But it was his piece from Nikita Mikhalkov's immortal (when Mikhalkov had a talent and ability) At Home Among Strangers, which in reality had a much more complex title At Home Among Strangers, Alien At Home. He also wrote the music for Tarkovsky's movies, such as Solaris, but it was this piece which still resonates 48 years later. 

I am not going to explain what it all means... I will just repeat Margo Simonyan's statement:

I’ve been telling you for a long time to find normal advisers on Russia. Sack all those parasites.

Difficult to explain to children of Dunning-Kruger effect in the West, which is lost.  

The King Is Dead, Long Live The King.

Sadly, we all are going to be there. Great, incomparable, Edson Arantes De Nascimento, Pele is not with us anymore. What a loss for global sports and humanity. 

Pelé, the Brazilian soccer legend widely hailed as "O Rei do Futebol," the king of his sport, the only man to win the World Cup three times, died Thursday at a hospital in Brazil. He was 82. His death has sent the entire soccer world — and specifically Brazil, the nation who’d nurtured and worshiped him — into a state of mourning. It was as if a national treasure had been lost forever, because, in fact, Pelé was one. The Brazilian government made that official declaration at the height of his powers. It kept him at his Brazilian club, Santos, where he ultimately scored most of his 1,281 goals — a still-unsurpassed, albeit disputed, world record.

A tragedy for Brazil and for all fans of the Great Game which Pele defined in 1950s through 1970s. 

Rest In Peace, legend, the King!

They Didn't Survive.

It is with a heavy heart that I have to admit that the miracle didn't happen. They are on eternal patrol now. 

DENPASAR (Reuters) -A missing Indonesian submarine has been found, broken into at least three parts, at the bottom of the Bali Sea, army and navy officials said on Sunday, as the president sent condolences to relatives of the 53 crew.  Rescuers also found new objects, including a life vest, that they believe belong to those aboard the 44-year old KRI Nanggala-402, which lost contact on Wednesday as it prepared to conduct a torpedo drill.    "Based on the evidence, it can be stated that the KRI Nanggala has sunk and all of its crew have died," military chief Marshal Hadi Tjahjanto told reporters.   Navy chief of staff Yudo Margono said the crew were not to blame for the accident and that the submarine did not experience a blackout, blaming "forces of nature". 

This is a hard cold reality of a silent service. She was a 40+ year old German Type 209 diesel sub. Those were good subs for 1980s and 1990s. She even underwent a refit. Rest in Peace, guys. 

KRI Nanggala (402).......

FVCK 2020.

Screw this year. Eddie Van Halen died. I was about to finish my post on current events and then this news. One of the best musicians and composers of a generation and simply just all-around cool dude, who brought so much joy to everyone.

Eddie Van Halen, grinning guitar god for a rock generation, dies at 65

Only 65, an age of maturity in the 21st century, but not being old by a long shot. You guessed it right--cancer. That, not the Covid-19 BS, is a real pandemic which mows down and takes away so many best and brightest, or simply just good people. RIP Eddie. Rock In Peace. 

Right now we just lost one of the greatest.

Sad, Sad News.

One of the last representatives of America's true intellect and knowledge, a gentleman and a real scholar. Stephen Cohen, RIP. I can only refer you all to a profound eulogy by Andrei Raevsky at his blog. 2020 continues with its deadly harvest. 

Dear friends,

It is with immense sadness that I have to report that Stephen F. Cohen passed away yesterday in his home in Manhattan at the age of 81. There are a few media outlets who have already reported this.  Most of them discuss Stephen F. Cohen’s political ideas and his books, which is normal since he was a historian of the Soviet Union.  But I won’t do that here. What I want to say about Cohen is something very different. First, he was a man of immense kindness and humility.  Second, he was a man of total intellectual honesty.  I can’t say that Cohen and I had the same ideas or the same reading of history, though in many cases we did, but here is what I found so beautiful in this man: unlike most of his contemporaries, Cohen was not an ideologue, he did not expect everybody to agree with him, and he himself did not vet people for ideological purity before offering them his friendship. Even though it is impossible to squeeze a man of such immense intellect and honesty into any one single ideological category, I would say that Stephen Cohen was a REAL liberal, in the original, and noble, meaning of this word.

I agree with Andrei (The Saker), we lost a giant. Sad day.

It Is Really A Heartbreak...

USSR, 1987 Alliance band and Oleg Parastaev's Magnum Opus At the Dawn (Na Zare). Oleg died yesterday at 61. He simply collapsed in a front of his wife at his dacha in the morning. "At the dawn voices call me..." Oleg became a global meme of the guy who traveled from the 31st (or was it 34th?) Century back to 1987 USSR to play one of the most haunting songs in synth-pop.... He is back to 31st Century. RIP, cool 31st Century Man.....  Look at people's faces in studio--no-earthly civilization. 

I guess generation of true talent abandons us all. 

Deep Sadness. Vale Jon Hellevig, RIP.

You see in my blog-roll Awara group. It is with a deep sadness and sorrow I learned that its heart and mind, Vale Jon Hellevig has died. I am really speechless to see one of few voices of truth on Russia to go so early and so... I re-post here a piece from Saker's site on Jon by Gassan Kadi. Such a tragedy...RIP, Jon. 

-------------------------------------------------------

When our friend The Saker asked if either Intibah or I would like to write a necrologue for Jon Hellevig, we both felt we couldn’t give the request enough justice, because we didn’t know Jon enough. But as I decided to take the lead here and write it in my name, with Intibah’s help, I realized that I knew Jon enough to honour his legacy by relaying my short sad and sweet experience with him to my readers.

Jon was initially a Facebook friend whom we ‘met’ over the fight for Syria’s sovereignty and independence. When Intibah and I decided to visit Moscow in the spring of 2015, arrangements were made to meet in the flesh. And after a long and tedious flight from Hong Kong and a taxi trip to the hotel, Intibah noticed him sitting in the lobby waiting for us.

As he stood up to shake our hands, I felt dwarfed by this imposing gentle giant as my height could hardly reach his shoulder, and quickly, we took our luggage to the room, put a band aid on our flight fatigue, and went out with him for a walk around central Moscow. We had a wonderful evening together and he insisted to pay for dinner.

Jon was excited not only to see us, but it was the first real warm spring day in Moscow. The traditional Russian winter lockdown locked up his free spirit and made him feel imprisoned in a cage, as he put it. He loved spring and what it symbolizes, because Jon was full of life, full of ideas, positivity, and wishes for a better world.

The last thing I imagined back then was that only five years later I would be sitting down writing his eulogy.

In writing this, I don’t only want to mark my respect to a dear friend, but I also want to express the grief I feel, as this may help me self-heal and fill that deep sinking hole that his untimely death has created in my heart and soul.

For more than the five years since we met in the flesh, Jon was my mentor even though he was seven years my junior. I looked up to his vast knowledge and wisdom at many levels. He was a deep thinker with an amazing intellect, and extremely good with numbers when it came to economics; the real economics of the world. He was also Intibah’s mentor on ‘forensics’. Intibah’s unofficial professional title is the ‘forensic journalist’, and she and Jon worked together on many ’investigations’.

Jon loathed injustice, spoke strongly, fearlessly and vehemently against oppressors of all sizes. He spoke so openly that he lost many ‘friends’ along the way because diplomacy was not a forté with which he was blessed. Quite the contrary in fact, if he thought one was stupid; he called him stupid, moron, idiot, and he did not shy away from using more colourful language, and often made me laugh as he did; and this was because when he resorted to such language, it was justified and in him doing so, he expressed my angry side that I often keep the lid on.

He loved Russia. He adored Russia and chose it to be his home even though he was Finnish. He travelled extensively in Russia whilst he lived in Moscow, he absolutely loved the Black Sea region; especially Sochi. He made many trips to Donbas to see what was happening on the ground with his own eyes. And a few years ago, he met another great friend in India, Arun Shrivastava. Sadly, Arun passed away not long after leaving behind an important manuscript he wrote on the role of nefarious NGO’s. Intibah and I worked with Jon trying to salvage his work and have it published, but the single original copy of that work instead reached the hands of a former ‘friend’ who promised to have it translated to many languages and published. In hindsight, all he actually wanted to do was to put his filthy hands on it and make sure it never sees the light. That was such a disappointment for Jon and us. It is such a travesty that Arun’s work was confiscated by that slime of a human… I seem to be picking up some of Jon’s vocabulary already.

This year, sweet Jon did not get his spring. The COVID-19 lockdown locked up his heart and mind and sent him into deep and agonizing depression. For many people, this is something they can tolerate, but not for a soul that thrives on light and freedom. The flower was not allowed to blossom. Flowers do not grow in the dark.

Jon was no stranger to depression, and before his heart stopped, Intibah and I felt from his writings that he wasn’t well. We spoke to him on the 17^th of May for over an hour. He was touched to hear our voices and to know that we cared for him and loved him. His pain was impossible to hide, but so was his hope and intention to come and visit us soon when this kerfuffle was over.

In the conversation, he made reference to similarities between himself and Kafka. I didn’t know much about Kafka and I am not going to pretend to be an instant expert on him after a quick Google job. But that analogy reminded me of my mother who lived the pain and suffering of French poet Lamartine for her entire life. And speaking of Lamartine, how can one forget Edgar Allan Poe? Such is the case of gentle souls.

We were planning to speak to him again, but didn’t want to inundate him with calls enough to make him feel we were worried and raise his concern. In hindsight, we wish we did.

We still don’t know where and when Jon’s body was ‘discovered’ as he lived alone. What we do know is that he died on the 26^th of May of a heart attack at the prime age of 58 with still so much to give.

It is such a tragedy to realize that dear Jon was an inadvertent victim of COVID-19. The lockdown stifled his free spirit, and his heart gave up, because Jon lived up to his principles in every part of his body and mind. Pretence was not in his dictionary.

Jon my friend, forgive me for I cannot attend your funeral, but with these words, I let you rest in peace. Farewell.

When France Was Still France.

Jacques Chirac, France's last true statesman RIP. Age 87.  After him--only parade of globalist colorless shills who sold France's sovereignty and finished turning her into multicultural cloaca and a door mat for the United States. 

© AFP / GEORGES GOBET

I can remind you what a hysteria France's position against Iraq 2003 criminal invasion created among American neocons. They even wrote this shit, stating that France (to who the United States owes her early existence) is America's Oldest Enemy. 

I also remember stickers on the bumpers then: Down with France. It was due to Jacques Chirac's principled position. Today, France is run by plastic bankster boy at the service of globalist "elite". What a contrast. France was sterilized to such a degree that the only person of any qualities required for preserving what's left from France, Marine  Le Pen, will be sabotaged and not allowed to enter decision-making positions. Sad story. One of Europe's last great man is gone.  

A Good Man Dies, RIP.

AUSTIN, Texas (AP) — Richard Overton, the nation's oldest World War II veteran who was also believed to be the oldest living man in the U.S., died Thursday in Texas, a family member said. He was 112. The Army veteran had been hospitalized with pneumonia but was released on Christmas Eve, said Shirley Overton, whose husband was Richard's cousin and his longtime caretaker.

That's the spirit: 

"He was there at Pearl Harbor, when the battleships were still smoldering," Obama said of Overton. "He was there at Okinawa. He was there at Iwo Jima, where he said, 'I only got out of there by the grace of God.'" He once said that one secret to his long life was smoking cigars and drinking whiskey, which he often was found doing on the porch of his Austin home. 

Rest In Peace, good soldier.