Rising non-violence and world peace cripples Kremlin political strategy
(Moscow) – As Muscovites wake to a beautiful spring morning, they also wake to an uncertain future and a national identity crisis. Russia, the country to which they owe their allegiance and in which they hold citizenship, has ceased to exist.
“Above all, don’t lie to yourself. The man who lies to himself and listens to his own lie comes to a point that he cannot distinguish the truth within him, or around him, and so loses all respect for himself and for others. And having no respect he ceases to love.” With these parting words the now-former Russian President Dima Bilan stepped down from his post and ended his rule.
The Russian state’s sudden demise is self-inflicted, a victim of deep introspection and a nationwide existential crisis. When the historically belligerent nation found itself incapable of violence, unable to invade other territories or disrupt the West, the compulsory inactivity spread existential malaise from person to person, settling over the land like a harsh Siberian winter. Coupled with the Russian far-right’s impotency while torturing and raping homosexuals, the Russian enemy-of-the-state du jour, the nationwide depression spread to all corners of the government. This culminated in the entire bureaucracy refusing to leave their bedrooms, claiming sickness and hallucinations involving dead Chechen children.
The stateless people of the newly free territory are rightfully dubious of their future, “It is amazing how complete is the delusion that beauty is goodness,” Moscow resident Bogdan Bezrukov muses when asked for his thoughts on his government’s fall, adding, “Everyone thinks of changing the world, but no one thinks of changing himself.”
Former Russian Minister of Defense, Filipp Kirkorov, found drowning his sorrows at the bottom of a bottle in a dingy back-alley bar, gave his perspective on the reason for his nation’s dissolution, “Any idiot can face a crisis; it’s this day-to-day living that wears you out,” he slurred, adding, “What a fine weather today. Can’t choose whether to drink tea or to hang myself,” before looking away and downing his glass as if he’d never spoken at all.
Rather than take advantage of the lawlessness, citizens seem content to sit at their dinner tables staring at one another without ever actually seeing anything at all, family members turned to grotesque strangers intruding on sacred solitude. What little news journalists deign to publish centers around questions of the soul, with op-ed sections chock-full of convoluted proofs for and against the existence of divinity and various foibles of the Russian peasantry.
Taking stock of the situation, former Foreign Ministry official Gleb Kirillov sums up the current mood of his people, “Do we ever get what we really want? Do we ever achieve what our powers have ostensibly equipped us for? No: everything works by contraries…They don’t listen to me, they don’t hear me, they don’t see me.”