Читать книгу 📗 "The memoirs of a Russian schoolboy (СИ) - Нигматулин Марат "Московский школьник""
After a while, we came to the market and began to storm it, breaking into warehouses, where illegal migrants, forced to work here for sixteen hours a day, slept on potato sacks. For these unfortunate, who did not even have time to really Wake up from all the roar that we published – began shaped hell, because right on their heads flew grenades, Molotov cocktails, rocks and other stuff. The most memorable moment of this action for that minute when I in a fit of pogrom courage grabbed a heavy Board and started it in the pregnant woman was; when the Board hit her in the head, she collapsed to the ground, but seem alive. I still remember her eyes filled with tears and fear, I remember how she ran and stumbled through bags of vegetables, I remember with what pleasure I ran into her Board. And you know, although he has since become a Communist, is about the act I do not regret about it and keep only the good memories.
In short, no one I showed such cruelty: and to this day I can't forget Mike and Dennis pushed some migrants to the ground and heavily bludgeoned him with an iron rebar; beat while howling like a Buffalo, which cut. It was evident that my friends received from this undisguised pleasure, which was so noticeable in their brilliant eyes and happy smiles. Since migrants mostly rational and quite wisely decided to run away from the market, and to pursue of no one wanted then very soon the crowd rushed to the marketplace, along with this enriching all sorts of goods, which they are able to reach the hands of these people. I remember how I had a chance to Rob a jewelry store, where they sold mostly jewelry made of semi-precious stones, which no one in principle was flooded. But I – this is a very special case, because I then had to suffer from an incredible love for semi-precious stones, and especially large. Then I came home with two huge bags of loot, much of which is still gathering dust in a warehouse, not finding any application. The other part, consisting of the most beautiful and decent things, was presented by me to the school Museum, and some of the most valuable copies I gave to friends for memory.
Some might condemn me for this shameless theft, but in my defense, I notice that everyone did so then. I remember very much how Denis Kutuzov and Misha Stefanko were dragging three boxes with some expensive cognac from the warehouse: their faces were just blissful contentment. As I said, in our market illegally selling a gun, but because many have managed to stock up also and this good. In total I will notice that some people stole warehouse carts only milking to take stolen to the house.
When it was clear that there was nothing to plunder any more, the market began to blaze because ours decided to set fire just in case everything there by means of the reserved grenades and other ammunition prepared in advance for this purpose. After the propane tanks lying in warehouses started exploding, we left the territory of the destroyed market. After that, the crowd completely dispersed: some went home with the loot received, constantly looking around-as if it had not been taken away by the police on the way; others rushed to smash everything that came to their hands. These last managed to destroy a set of shops, the Jewish cultural center, regional government, two Bank branches and still anyestablishments. The hardest thing was the government, because we rioters burned all the documents, and at the same time and the government itself, so nothing from there really and not taking, except for the beautiful wooden Cabinet handmade, which was stolen from the office of the head of the district. In addition, tried to make more and a good table, which was in the same room with a wardrobe, but he could not stand the fall from the second floor and collapsed.
Denis and Mike, pleased with himself and the stolen brandy went home, barely having time to see me, while I had to go home with two heavy bags.
I returned home with heavy bags and no less heavy thoughts, squeezing me more and more as I approached my home: I was afraid that my parents found my disappearance, and therefore my knees were shaking. With incredible excitement I climbed the stairs of his home, waiting for subsequent executions of the parents, but my anxiety was in vain. I entered the apartment, snuck into my room, undressed and lay down in bed, hiding the loot in the closet, never being suspected of the crimes committed by me.
Chapter twenty-fourth.
Grishka.
About Gregory [Grishka – it's a Russiandiminutive from this name.] Potapov I have, perhaps, the warmest memories of those, what I have to have about the other students of our school. This remarkable person I will never forget not only as the good friend, but also as my first propaganda success.
The thing is that in those days I was very keen on the issues of propaganda and so-called «public relations», and therefore read a lot of relevant literature. It was the work of Dale Carnegie and Ron Hubbard, the speech of Joseph Goebbels and treatises of Cicero, written in obscure language monographs thick and thin tabloid books. I was interested in everything: methods of recruitment of totalitarian sects, Nazi propaganda, marketing issues and many other topics. I read any literature that touched upon the most pressing issue of my interest – how to turn other people into your obedient slaves. I considered first of all, of course, psychological methods of enslavement of other people, but did not give up completely and from methods much more rough, considering them as an option «as a last resort». My whole room was littered with various literature on the subject of interest to me: everything was here – from «Judgments and conversations» Confucius to «Encyclopedia of drug trafficking». Every single day I necessarily allocated several hours to train in rhetorical exercises which though were given to me easily, nevertheless took away a lot of time. Every day for two hours I learned to make speeches in front of the mirror at home, and in addition to everything I had a wonderful rhetorical practice in the form of reports at the lessons of history and social science, where I often spoke even more than Sergei Alexandrovich. As a result of such active exercises, I learned in some way political rhetoric, skills which later came in handy, though much earlier than I expected. About this, however, later.
When I sufficiently mastered the most important skill of any manipulator-namely, learned to carry a complete nonsense with a very serious face and an important kind – I decided to move from theory to practice. In practical terms, this meant that I set out to find a man and make him do what I needed to do myself. I did not want to build castles in the air, and therefore chose quite an achievable goal, deciding some sports and slender boy to make unsportsmanlike and well-fed. When to manipulate, I decided, was to choose a man on whom I had the manipulation to do. The choice fell on Gregory.
Now, when I described to you my then agitatory plans, I can finally describe the object of the implementation of these plans, – that is, Grishka. The first thing to say to that person, it is less suitable for the role of a fat man, I find, probably could not at all. The fact is that Potapov was not only slim, but also fantastic mobility, which caused such delight in his classmates and such indignation among teachers. In addition, he differed and very cool temper, and therefore fought in school almost every day, which contributed to those of his classmates who were jealous of the luxurious figure Potapov. In short, I hitherto not introduced to the reader properly with the appearance of Grigory Potapov, and therefore fix it now. Growth it was small, hardly exceeding in height the bar at 145 centimeters, which is somewhat reflected in his ego. Haircut he was «under the pot», and the hair had a very nice blond color, while the skin was dark, as the inhabitants of the Mediterranean, and his eyes were bright blue. His nose was small and snub, and the chin did not stand out, which usually for people Balts-Slavic race. Under the clothes he was hiding as hard as stone muscle – relief solid biceps and abs, which didn't seem to have an ounce of fat. He was originally from Belarus.
