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,

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

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

In a “Tell All” …I
(Doctor Abba SOLZHENITSOF)
Our house was in a city close to the mountains where an ordinary pasha had brought out a hundred thousand naked soldiers in the most frozen a winter; I was a military school student; I overcame the mystery of meeting my dear friend's compatriots and anti-communist 'militant Circassians'…
I left my school... My intention was to fight against the small oppressor 'Soviet' in the big and victimized 'Russia' at the first opportunity so first of all, I reached the Greco-European book culture;
While I appeared to be living in a village, I participated in front-line training with the heroes who were doing war drills in some where... I wouldn't admit it, even if I heard not it, once,
In order not to be startled by my nickname, 'Abba Vite bin Ebu Velid' was added, the 'Slavic' surname SOLZH… was added too, the system was established, stable and pure

Part II

The Opposite of Moving is Identity with Things

In the official compound where his mansion was located, he recalled his grammatical fidelity, even though it required reticence, and although the duo "you have forgotten, I have forgotten" is mentally necessary correct, he respectfully returned to the incorrect use of "you have forgotten, I have forgotten".
Thinking that he might have misunderstood, he went out and went back to his office. There, his men who welcomed him again with the red carpet - politely his colleagues - this time in chorus, sang the not very famous corporate anthem titled "Philosophical Thinking States That Are Harmful to Be Considered Openly" with a loud voice. The anthem was enthusiastic, but here only the concept of the "Exemplary Father" was mentioned, the findings were not to be disclosed. The fact that he would be examined was the only truth and revealing the exact facts was incompatible with a loud voice... When he entered the main corridor of the office compound, he paused and called the director of administration. next to you. There was no reason to ask who did what, because when the artificial intelligence application was combined with eye-recognizing cameras, as the head of the campus, whoever looked carefully at anyone, a laser plate appeared on their head, in short, their name, surname and duty could be easily read from that plate. Even though everyone here knew each other, the head of the organization, as the most responsible and authoritative, decided as soon as possible not to look closely at the location of any employee. In such information science institutions, although everyone knows each other's names, some tasks are not announced to other employees. Without further ado, he asked the administrative director for the layout plan of the office, the residence within the institution, and the working, resting, nutrition, sports and library units.
Everyone knows that high-ranking people enter their own high-ranking campuses… from the front line and with a welcome protocol. He sneaked in by hiding through the back door and cowering on one of the main landings. The application officers were instructed in advance and ignored the way the largest number of managers entered the institution. He held the expensive, very special ballpoint pen in his pocket towards the ceiling and the weak red laser that appeared in front of him took him to the door of the administrative manager's secretary. The secretary found himself in front of the biggest administrator. Therefore, he was shaking with excitement and fear. He calmed him down and called the director of administration to him, shouting his verbal instructions, to bring the map of the campus. The manager, paralyzed with astonishment, came running with a magnificent and concise file of sketches that we had to admit had been prepared in advance.
When he entered the main corridor of the official campus, he paused and called the administration manager to him. It is worth

In this case, the exemplary father's suggestion does not change: To feel the greatest pleasure, be one of the great helpers of people, then die to receive the reward of pleasure. Where do we see this clearly? From the self-confidence of older siblings who command their younger siblings to say, "Run and get me a glass of water" as if they are the ones who know everything. It's misplaced self-confidence, but it's in place. Older children are also injured in train accidents, but little ones are luckier in the soft parental arms.
It does not matter whether the conversation is with someone outside or whether it is a daytime delirium, if the source is a solid example, it is guaranteed in terms of productivity: health efficiency, consciousness efficiency, happiness and long-term efficiency. These listed - in a sense - building blocks of prayer, parents, require an exemplary personality in order to be considered a parent. If someone says that he lived the most important part of his childhood during the World War, not to mention the fear of death, or at least the fear of suffering, and that he developed a philosophy of life based on a single principle that does not fit into the experiences of his young age, and if the other person asks for that principle to be explained, of course, he should be ready to hear vital words... Also, the speech vernier:
-What did your principle foresee?
-In short, the truth that we were born for one purpose: to die without committing suicide and without suffering.
-Where were you when you put these into words?
-In the living room of our house, of course.
(The house is two-storey, its roof protrusions are not dangerous at all, its cylindrical structure with pedestals consists of cone-cut gutters, or rather baroque excesses, designed to be suitable for rainwater. At the back of the building, there is a wire fence drawn to protect the space that is not considered a garden, and a stone-paved courtyard at the front. area... The size of the windows and the ceiling heights are suitable for the rooms they illuminate. Perhaps due to the westward aspect of the windows, the curtains are cream coloured and the bottom edge embroidery is in tassel style. It exhibits straight, thick silk threads, thicker embroidered spirals, and rhombuses. The inside of the windows is large enough to fit a book or gas lamps to be used in an emergency.)
When there are no more details to talk about, we stop the conversation—even though they know the details haven't come to the fore yet. Even though conversations can be heard far away from our surroundings, a conversation has started and ended.

- You were saying, 'The highway that climbs a neglected hill and perhaps spirals towards the slums behind it...'
-There is someone there who was pelted with stones, he is a postal worker with something pomegranate red leaking from his bleeding face. What difference does it make whether he is an exemplary father or the protector of a family?
-What difference does it make?
-Undoubtedly in the growing help of the saviour.
-I seem to understand you.
(What is meant to be understood? It is a neighbourhood that can be travelled from one end to the other in a quarter of an hour, no, in half of that time. Of course, when cowboying is played, it grows inwards excessively, because the game goes from corner to corner and appears before the opponent at an unexpected moment, and the sound of shooting - in general, that imitation sound is universal -Removing. During the time you spend with your mother, you hear the sounds of your playmates, but you don't hear them.
It seems that environmental warming did not exist at that time... Because there was no time when there were no white clouds in the sky, the thick sheep settled in the room, the windows painted in khaki colour with a large surface, whose inner space was large enough to reflect all kinds of natural events, with lights and shades.)
-My mother is an example...
-You said he was an exemplary father...?
-Don't worry, my dear, if necessary, I can give examples of exemplary family, exemplary wife, exemplary personality, exemplary businessman, exemplary student and many more to erase your unnecessary sorrows.
-Forgive me if I made any mistakes while examining you. Really, why did you come to this world where you look from afar with the dream of painless death without committing suicide?
-Of course, out of boredom. Boredom drove us all to the edge: imagine that we competed to the death with our own siblings and their sibling reproductive cells, which inhabited the same exemplary mother and exemplary father.
-How to die?
-It is outside the parliament to take your personality as an example and talk about it. Is there any fertilization cell that has survived after losing the race?
-If I am a strange creature that was born while I was unsuccessful in the competition, do not talk to me, sir. In other words, I shouldn't be your audience.
-This is the truth... I will tell you even when you are not around; Essentially, if you wish, don't go, stay. There's no harm in even if you interfere occasionally.

ABBA VITE namely Doctor Solzhenitsof's novel
SAMPLING FATHER
(Continuing from the previous page)

I can't say, 'My exemplary mother earned this qualification through her own father', but my parents - my siblings and I called him grandfather - would explain things we didn't know by sorting through them, he was never considered a low-toned advice giver.
(The child, who has a toothache, goes to have his tooth pulled with the grandfather. Since the pain of extraction will pass anyway, when the sun hides behind the clouds, he will ignore the dimness of the room and try to finish the unfinished book this time. The landlord is not a distant person, the grandfather is. He often does not collect the rent. Importance What he gives is the towel that is visible in the translucency of the bathroom window of the aunt's apartment, which does not belong to them but lives in a luxurious vicinity, rather than living in a house that belongs to the family. It's a longing for home. Oh, the weather forecast comes to mind again... If the family has its own property and a house with a bathroom, wouldn't the savings light bulb that turns on when entering the hall sing in our subconscious? Add to that the announcement that "heavy snowfall is expected".
Snowstorm is a sweet excitement, if the conditions are good, girls loved from afar are the children of important men.)
-I passed my documents through the registration room and took them to the approval floor. The fact that important men spend the winter warmer than we miss is a source of ideal: I even received my diploma after graduation, I am getting my appointment letter approved, as you can see.
-I think you have gained importance now, and if your heart is in the daughter of the important man, you are seriously considering getting married.
(He is invited to his listener's house for dinner. His exemplary mother is very impressive. The way he praised her education before sitting at the dinner table illuminated the problem in her. He even solved it... Girls who are picky and care about wisdom were also forced to love young people from afar by the pushing and pulling power of their high-ranking fathers, or at least it was like that for a while. As for the treats: Tomato soup, cheese pastry, rice with lamb, fruit and tea, eventually the couple went to the room where the house's library was located. His exemplary father led his family through a revolution with the encouragement of their exemplary mother, because they moved to a rented house with a bathroom, using all their resources.)
-I would like a private meeting.
I
-Me too!
-What is your occupation?
- Private detective. But my credentials are missing, that's why I can't go to work
A few people don't know himself (Shouting)
-Let's complete your identity.
-Not a bad idea. Members of society help each other to create personalities.-Of course, this sometimes hurts, at least the feeling of hostility, negativity.

(A crowded circle of friends, everyone has a voice.)
-While everyone is laughing, there is no reaction from you.
-I have underestimated you too much, you have common values that are dangerously increasing in number, just like those who are members of fanatic associations, first gathering noisily around the void, then adding meaning to the void with fewer but more meaningful voices.
(His surroundings are full of apartment blocks and even housing estates. He walks with determined, fast steps, in favor of taking a shortcut in order to get to the main street. Cannibals are as numerous here as they are in any other continent. If he gets tired and sits in a corner, he can sit in a flat opposite his family members, from the age of nine to older ones, He would hear everyone from girls to male and female family members of all ages watching the game on television and shouting vulgar rhymes that did not suit everyday elegance. Then…what happens next? Suddenly - in your dreams, of course - running to the headman and complaining, yes, it is written - because detail is an inevitable condition of such works... it's as if the thread of conversation has run out, that is, well...)
-Let me introduce myself, I am Mukhtar S.
- My surname also starts with the letter S, sir.
(The ground floor on the right of the entrance of a site that is much richer than the middle class is the headman's office. The outer door is six to seven steps high, so flower pots on both sides are mandatory by tradition. There are in-depth pictures of the workshop where they are produced on the pots. The one closest to the wall is a pyramid, a couple of sunsets. Its magnificence is slightly mournful with its shadow of an hour ago, or the sensitive, sensitive, Peasant woman in the shadow is holding her mule loaded with brushwood with her hand, as if she were pressing the wheels of the gun carriage she had pulled in the past. (The orange traces on the horizon indicate
Lest his speeches be mistaken as imaginary, he speaks in a way that protects his voice from becoming shrill: it was the wish of my exemplary maternal grandfather, the headman, and he would have aimed for the same purpose if he had been with us at that moment:
-I'm glad you mentioned this, it gave me the opportunity to say that I know everything about you and your surname.
-Ah, those artificial intelligence cameras that recognize the client by sight.
-What don't you say? Let's get to the topic, your reason for applying: please let me read it before you!
-You can't do this. Because devices carry the logic of crowds. What I complain about is society's latest obsession: Whether it's big women, young girls or mischievous primary and secondary school children, they are always innocent.
-Where did you prove the opposite of this?
-I think, in a block on the third floor, in a large apartment with a balcony -I guess again - all members of a family of all ages and genders were in a crisis of inappropriate match excitement - excuse the express

The bus I was waiting for has already arrived, look.
-Don't talk about coming to me. Which citizen... Before even coming to my office-apparently he calls his office-, you brought us together at the bus stop for a reason I don't know. You are a well-known "exemplary father", but there is no one to whom you do not attribute the term "exemplary".
-Example Dad, it's not a constant! He is the owner of unlimited space and time, everywhere, fluid, penetrating, distributing more energy than the universe needs while offering love.
The headman had taken the conversation seriously to the point he wanted, but he artistically remained silent for a moment, as if he was showing indecision. The headman had destroyed his own voice to the point of exceeding the limit of losing the vibration in his silence, and when he started speaking again, he said a sentence that had the power to impress everyone around: The administration, under the control of the philosophy directorate, is the rural, strictly official style of the museum administration, which occupies a picnic hill right next to the city in an archaeological sense. He assigned his interlocutor to his campus, albeit temporarily. Three or five interesting points in the assignment could not really go unnoticed. First of all, that rural area campus was only 5 minutes away from the city, but the attendant would be paid the flight fee every day.
-In addition, you will be able to hire an uncountable number of temporary employees and provide bread for the nation in a few months to a few years.
-Look, I liked this job,
-And if you'll forgive me, the road passes near the house of the girl you liked from high school.
At that moment, a man with a respectable face, who resembled a head waiter with his clothing and manner of acting, approached them and directly addressed the headman's interlocutor, saying:
"Dear sir, I would like to inform you that the state has allocated unlimited expenses for the food and drink lists you will submit the day before, from breakfast to lunch and dinner," he said and quickly walked away.
(What can't come to the mind of a person dedicated to the subject of an "exemplary resource" that the headman talks to after an application that may or may not have been made at all... As a matter of fact, his agenda is at the moment, sitting at afternoon tea with his exemplary mother, a secure life that has not been recorded and given to them. The privilege of receiving peace support by adding new jokes and making very successful and undescribed future plans has now been lost.)
Returning to the main topic of wealth, he asked,
-Can I extend my work until a joyful, cheerful and healthy retirement period?
-Yes!
-What?
-With the authority given to me, I can also say that when you retire, your bonus will reach the size of your wealth.
-Hooray...Oh my friend, don't be silent, let's talk for a lifetime. Because I do not want to share all I know about the "Exemplary Father" business, about which I know more than

Part II

The Opposite of Moving is Identity with Things

In the official compound where his mansion was located, he recalled his grammatical fidelity, even though it required reticence, and although the duo "you have forgotten, I have forgotten" is mentally necessary correct, he respectfully returned to the incorrect use of "you have forgotten, I have forgotten".
Thinking that he might have misunderstood, he went out and went back to his office. There, his men who welcomed him again with the red carpet - politely his colleagues - this time in chorus, sang the not very famous corporate anthem titled "Philosophical Thinking States That Are Harmful to Be Considered Openly" with a loud voice. The anthem was enthusiastic, but here only the concept of the "Exemplary Father" was mentioned, the findings were not to be disclosed. The fact that he would be examined was the only truth and revealing the exact facts was incompatible with a loud voice... When he entered the main corridor of the office compound, he paused and called the director of administration. next to you. There was no reason to ask who did what, because when the artificial intelligence application was combined with eye-recognizing cameras, as the head of the campus, whoever looked carefully at anyone, a laser plate appeared on their head, in short, their name, surname and duty could be easily read from that plate. Even though everyone here knew each other, the head of the organization, as the most responsible and authoritative, decided as soon as possible not to look closely at the location of any employee. In such information science institutions, although everyone knows each other's names, some tasks are not announced to other employees. Without further ado, he asked the administrative director for the layout plan of the office, the residence within the institution, and the working, resting, nutrition, sports and library units.
Everyone knows that high-ranking people enter their own high-ranking campuses… from the front line and with a welcome protocol. He sneaked in by hiding through the back door and cowering on one of the main landings. The application officers were instructed in advance and ignored the way the largest number of managers entered the institution. He held the expensive, very special ballpoint pen in his pocket towards the ceiling and the weak red laser that appeared in front of him took him to the door of the administrative manager's secretary. The secretary found himself in front of the biggest administrator. Therefore, he was shaking with excitement and fear. He calmed him down and called the director of administration to him, shouting his verbal instructions, to bring the map of the campus. The manager, paralyzed with astonishment, came running with a magnificent and concise file of sketches that we had to admit had been prepared in advance.

When he entered the main corridor of the official campus, he paused and called the administration manager to him. It is worth repeating: There are countless reasons to ask who does what they do... because when the artificial intelligence application is combined with eye-recognizing cameras, the person at the head of the campus cannot create a laser plate on the head of whoever he looks at carefully, in short, the name, surname and surname of whoever he looks at. its task could not be understood through a visual method. Even though everyone here did not know each other, he, as the most responsible and authoritative head of the organization, decided to always look carefully at the location of each employee. Even though everyone knows each other's names in such information-science institutions, should some tasks be announced to other employees or not? Hesitation is useful under a roof that does not like answers. He went back to square one to get his lifestyle in order: Without further ado, he asked the administrative manager for the layout plan of his office, his residence within the establishment, and the work, rest, nutrition, sports and library units. Manager, sir, you have been asking for the same thing for the last three days. If the information we have provided is not sufficient, I ask for your forgiveness. I would like to know where we made a mistake and why we could not provide a satisfactory information in a satisfactory manner, so that we can serve you better. He got angry at the administration manager and said in a dry voice:
"Could you shorten your question and ask it again?" he growled.
-Sir, as you ordered, I wonder where I am doing wrong when I verbally present you the sketch information of your residence and the organization you head, and project it on semi-intelligent screens that are responsible for appearing visually wherever you want?
-Be brave, there is no fault; Even if you explain it over and over again yesterday, today, tomorrow, any day, there will always remain an insurmountable obstacle between your understanding and the new house I will move to: my old belongings. They will block my understanding, and maybe until you retire, you will continue to be unable to explain to me, even if roughly, the architecture of my mansion-like residence in the giant facility I manage. Remember, the only habit that kills the transportation of human beings and even animals is related to furniture..."
He probably couldn't control the intensity of his word stress. Therefore, with the idea that extremes compensate for the extremes, the grumbling of "to what extent the delegation under my command and the natural spending power will be able to meet my basic needs" should be made audible from all corners of the building with the help of a microphone. And so he did.
Now, all the responsible unit managers would come rushing - and they did - and he would examine all the reports with the possibility of finding them satisfactory, go to bed, and honor t

-Before thanking you, I would like to tell you a piece of history that I find useful so that you do not mislead your children. However, it is my responsibility to remind you that you should behave cordially and that if you do not like such conversations, you can leave immediately.
The crowded group dispersed immediately because these were honest people, they would not stand in front of you without sincerity. So only one person remained there in all sincerity, "one person remained there in all sincerity" with the disingenuous, insincere platitude that does not inspire confidence. The person waiting for the explanation in the room was a healthy foods expert, an elegant, modest lady who looked like she was preparing to transition from youth to middle age. He was telling her,
-The snow covered the windows of the headman's office near the ground, almost like a cotton curtain. The light of the crescent moon in the sky, which was thick, especially in its blizzard, and which gave the impression that the clusters of houses and building blocks in the background, which we must consider to be brown-painted, were swinging on a swing, were insistently presenting to my mother and me that the walking path was a muddy thin strip covered with a snow wall on both sides.
My mother had obviously taken advantage of our early night walk from visiting friends to our nearby residence as an opportunity for the "model father". Because the qualities he described were shifting from love to power.
The young lady who stayed to listen to him interrupted him in a very mature tone,
-Do you think love and power are compatible?
-You are curious about morality, tradition, and one hundred percent compatible with the free thinking and free belief taught in schools, and how your curiosity might be related to curiosity, believe me, we would not be able to understand it if we both wondered together... According to the latest Rumors, people have been here for seventy thousand years, and they are driven to find something to do with the curiosity they have been taught for seventy thousand years.
-Did you find your job by searching?
-No, work found me.
-If you speak more clearly...
-Sometimes, resourceful types think like “we chose life”. It's wrong... life chose them.
-The seat chose you? Is it lunch?
-No, I'm the chooser here.
-Why did you choose it?
-Why are we talking to you, what is our business purpose here? Avoiding explanations.
-I don't know...
-But I know the reason you want to know, I rose to such a position with that knowledge.
-What is your reason for promotion?
- You already asked "Who chose your job?" I gave you the answer.
-There is a reason you haven't explained.
-Ha! My reason for ascension is that I can be trusted to never reveal that reason that I know…you don't understand that, and I know the reason you don't.
(The young lady does not invite him to "explain why" again, because such an insistence would be enough to force the highest-level manager to do what he should not

A few paragraphs earlier, in the classic Russian intellectual conversations, three friends had set out on their journey to meet the owner of the largest carpet, the owner, to quickly retrieve it. They had arrived at the resting place, which could be described from the window as a boarding house, if not a hotel or motel. He had climbed into the bed, which had clearly been opened the night before, with its coverlet, quilt, pillowcases, and a very light beige-ish white warmth and a faint scent of detergent, which greeted everyone who came to sleep with a gel-gel, and had fallen into a fit of snoring. As mentioned earlier, his accommodation had only half-opened windows and sills. The building he was in was at the level of the second floor, so high up that a piece of purple tape on the window clearly read, "Jumping down is dangerous and forbidden." If the walls, the room where he was hiding, were reasonably suitable, the place where he was seen to be opening, and the place where he was hiding were incomprehensible and unsuitable for jumping, how could the bed be located, and how could it be viewed from that window?
Although this part of the summary description is explained in reverse order, leaving no room for geometric explanation of the location, it did exist. When the exceptional guest looked down through the half-open window, he saw the working women—perfectly matching the long depiction at the entrance—and observed them closely. But the most important matter to focus on was undoubtedly breakfast at this early hour. Indeed, there was a knock on the room door, and with his "come in," a lady on duty—apparently wearing a kitchen apron—entered. Before he could even ask for an explanation, the room service lady explained, "Sir, our building is made of nanomaterials that don't reflect light—except for the window in the space you're looking at—as the saying goes," and thus began the conversation between them.
"Why is that window different? I don't know, wasn't it built with the technique we're used to…"
"I'm not an architect, but I can explain it, of course, if you'd like."
"Explain, sir, why is this window like this? It exists in the sense we know it.
"You, or to put it more broadly, so that the guests who honor us with visiting the owner of the largest carpet, can look out first."
"But why is looking out prioritized? Frankly, why is looking out the window a priority?
"Because if you don't follow the alphabet, time is wasted, and we have no time to waste: neither yours nor ours."
"I understand."
"No, you don't."
"Whoa, where did you get that idea, ma'am?"
"You can call me 'Miss Concierge.' If you prefer, my name is Olga, sir." (Laughing, he adds: "Since I'm still single, Mademoiselle Olga, it's your discretion.")
- (Slightly upset) Mademoiselle, I asked you where you got the idea that I didn't understand you...
- (Slightly upset) Mademoiselle, I asked you how you knew I didn't understand you...
-Because you perceived and examined your bed before you co

IT'S A GOOD THING THAT THE METAVERSE IS UNAVAILABLE IN OUR REGIONAL CITY IN SIBERIA...

They were well aware of the generosity of their hospitable elders. Therefore, three respectable young bureaucrats—as if by agreement—went to the tea party without dinner. Before they even arrived, all the preparations in the house were complete, and the large dining table in the living room—a sale a
mange, one of the most cherished traditions of the Circassians within the Russian federal structure—perhaps a foldable one—was already set: local börek (a type of pie) with potatoes and marinated minced meat, a variety of pickles, fresh fruit and nuts, a crane-shaped jug filled with cold spring water, and its inevitable companion, glasses. Even the hot cutlet was to be served later. To top it all off, there was the traditional samovar tea of vast Russia, and the conversation that was bound to break out between the enlightened host and the enlightened guests. The meal, the other treats, and the glasses of tea brought to the table after the icy spring water were devoured with great appetite, would leave their mark on both the early and late evenings. The crystal glasses in question suddenly shed the sparkle of a composition of colorful reflections, a harmony between the education and attire of intellectuals who knew their true knowledge. Just as the worst use of a violin stolen from the West in Eastern culture motivates the peddler of paste, and just as the latter's determination to sell their product by circling it in the air, so too did the gliding bows and curves dance with the sugary rays scattered from the product, sometimes fez-colored, sometimes cat-yellow, and sometimes the cheerful colors of a sun peering through dark rain clouds.
Truthfully, we are incapable of distinguishing people, or, to put it in contemporary terms, analyzing them. A composition can only so successfully reflect the literate segment of our country, which has spread civilization from the Urals to Japan, who gather aimlessly but engage in fruitful conversations through harmonious efforts. It's unclear when the host began his story, but these sentences ignited the conversation.
I was on the shores of the Mediterranean, perhaps in the Frankish region, perhaps somewhere near the ocean. A woman sunbathing on the beach, two boys wrestling a short distance away; a person—let's call him a technician—under a black veil that conceals both his equipment, whatever it may be, and himself from his body to his shoulders, like an old photographer. While I was standing there aimlessly, she took her head out from under the cover and called out a syllable or two towards me. I went to her believing she was calling me and I realized I was right because before we even met, she made a suggestion and asked me: Would you like to look after this woman and children at your current age or at a later age? I said,
"Your suggestion is the METAVERSE, which gives the feeling of being in a virtual reality that everyone k

LIVE FROM THE DISTRICT
(Renovated)

A magnificent tradition is about to begin in the northwest of Great Russia: In TV series, panel discussions, shows, and other programs, only the text is reflected on the television screen: in the background, of course, with blurry images that anyone can literally take in any direction. From our storied heroes to the very fast pilgrims—those who, after circumambulating Canterbury on the other side of the world, pierced through the civilized continents one by one to reach the Great Wall of China—a model person is shown on the white screen after midnight, with the text very clear and bold, and all the images depicted are rendered in shadow, like a very high-quality performance. It's worth watching without getting into excessive descriptions: City life, with its tea and cake houses frequented by friends, acquaintances, and new acquaintances to discuss literature and ideas, had almost transformed into a cultured, miserable environment akin to Argentina, which exports TV series to foreign countries. Let's explain—in the words of a fluent, lisping presenter—for easier understanding! Decor: The two-story corner house, practically a necessity in any developed village with large farms, is well-known to everyone, yet is practically abandoned by the locals. When you face the whitewashed entrance, the road from above is worn down and its asphalt tinged with white, a wastewater bottle, an abandoned bed—dull gray in the middle, its surface emblazoned with key patterns in all colors, left where it was thrown—and a newspaper, its unnecessary pages flapping arrogantly in the breeze since its publication. Yet, it still appears parallel as it descends diagonally. Another road, coming directly from the left, intersects with the numbered road, in keeping with the tradition that has prevailed since the founding of cities, and another that runs headlong between them. On the other side of all this amenities are apartment buildings. A long, dark blue garden hose, hanging absurdly from the kitchen balcony of a fifth-floor apartment, seems to descend from an immeasurable height to the ground. This impression, illuminated by a single, dead bulb, suggests to the viewer that it belongs in the kitchen, which is true. Behind the connecting windowpane, a pair of silhouettes, one male and one female, are visible. Whether they are husband and wife, mother and son, or a friend of the opposite sex with one of the adult children is unknown. Why in the world are distances or heights insufficient to understand relationships, yet conversations are always heard through slow reading or body language. Indeed, the woman is calm but extremely distressed. She repeats what could be considered the refrain of the day: "I find it strange how your eyes scan the horizon, as if searching for a specific person. My own understanding is that you always seem to upset me the most, and yet you're always keeping yourself out of trouble..."
(Meanwhile, American country mus

Abba Solzhenitsof’s Aphorisms

SOVIET STATES IN VARIOUS SIZES
(Poetical Reports)

Soviet-State induced regimes were established by exploiting people's tendencies toward hatred rather than their capacity for love;
While constructiveness is crucial to their growth, destruction’s paramount, wow.

If Soviet armies, large and small, lack a uniform structure, the use of force falls into the hands of gangs, large and small or medium size
The Soviet-style dictatorship lacks depth, especially if brute force is entrusted to superficial gangs rather than the army wearing helmet or fez.

In the realm of emotion and thought, the word Soviet could rightly be perceived as hostile to art, for while universal art pursues beauty, for instance, in a Soviet-style painting, women and old trees are depicted with equal clumsiness.
What a cowardice!

While the Soviets' thick skin constantly sheds dead cells, it also deprives the popular vitality beneath it-though it cannot completely extinguish it-of the light of day.
It is not to mention depriving them of the mercy of rain clouds even caressing while thundering, docile, auspicious

In every Soviet state, whether organizations that outwardly bear the marks of an opposition party or other superficial gangs, they are indifferent to human suffering, or rather, they are not opposed to any evil.
All the worst its of forces ordered by the Devil,

The only thing lacking in Soviet-style structures is genuine opposition.
Leaving aside the internal squabbles within the most powerful gang at the head of the administration, the government maintains a significant degree of power as long as the automation of the security forces remains intact, and so on…

In both large and small Soviet states, armed forces exist solely to suppress the population; they are occasionally seen attacking the people of neighboring countries, if they have no more people to suck the marrow from. Soviet’s one day equals alone to the doomsday’ doom!

The anti-human Soviet-style state structure is nothing more than a pair of enormous, thick-lensed dark glasses, and the strength to remove them, if any, can only be found in the masses enlightened by scientific education, as in the noble Russian people... Red dictatorship is on our map a mere notorious maple.

Soviet-style, enslaved officials lack the capacity to do anything, but they are courageous in their destruction, because the guiding principle of Soviet states, whether red, green, or black, is negativism: revolution, revolution, counter-revolution, counter-revolution, destruction, crushing, neutralizing, and so on... For noble Russian people Soviet could solely be named as a poisonous balloon.

Abba Solzhenitsof's Jerusalem Aphorisms

Democratic statesmen of countries within the neighborhood of Mediterranean civilization will now prioritize education and modern law more, because in the twenty-first century, Jerusalem is once again the capital of the Children of Israel. In other words, love for humanity-even if the garbage in manhood form, say terrorists don't want it-has returned to its Phoenix nature. Humanity will rise again from the ashes. Shalom!

It was still late in the evening, and they had until 10:30 PM CET (Central European Time) to reach the first moments of the night. They decided to visit a friend who had become withdrawn and confined to her house after the coronavirus pandemic, and watch the episode of the television series "Why Conferences Are Useless..."—a lecture series, after all, it was a conference. The speaker was an old acquaintance, but explaining the reason for the familiarity would be confusing.
The appliance repair expert visited the man who had moved his house and barn into a department that didn't even qualify as a lodging at the shipyard and made his official residence his two-story winter house with a garden at the edge of the city. In fact, this expert had visited the house he also used in the summer on a winter night. He had turned the ideas of a very influential intellectual into lecture material, from depictions of foxes with hennaed tails and lynxes, the subject of English poetry and a kind of sun-dried cat, to the parabolic combinations of windows, curtains, and the often-loved, stripped-of-the-edges, skinless, asexual-looking, with faces paler than spring-weary jasmines, in the misty winter suns trapped between the smoky, uninformed cesspools of city rooftops and mountainous chains. When they arrived at their host home, the lecture began, and the speaker picked up speed.
An aristocrat can't possibly rule the world, or perhaps they wouldn't even deign to do so. However, an aristocrat directs everyone, or at least nudges things in one direction. The four conditions of being an aristocrat will make this necessary and possible. The aforementioned conditions are as follows: To archive the music he began to love at the age when he felt his identity, the fundamental books he preferred to read, the reproductions of his favorite artists, and the photographs depicting his family and friendships in the broadest sense. To later establish a nearly fixed way of being that will contribute to his existence, which resists change with its constant, fluid form.
The power of sexuality is thought to reside within a complex, sublime, and complex structure connected to numerous centers in the brain, yet it's actually a small button. Such small buttons are like the keypad you use to signal the need to defecate, or the keypad that makes your mouth water to prepare for a favorite meal. Simple, when applied to a specific context, they can even create the perversion of having sex with animals, let alone humans. Of course, those who use animals for sexual purposes believe this shouldn't be considered licentiousness. This observation about licentiousness is almost inaccurate, because the pervert finds solace and pleasure in the belief that there are no other perverts in this matter than themselves. If they were to learn that a large group of people known for sexual perversions is circulating around the world, all perverts might begin to dislike this activity.
Our daily preoccupation wit

The lady, in her expensive attire, suddenly regarded with respect by everyone on the platform, and looking more difficult to reach than a book of etiquette, was not at all cold-hearted when she extended her hand.
"Welcome, our surgeon, as accomplished as Sakharov and worthy of the Peace Prize," she said, smiling familiarly. She quickly concluded, "I'm sure we haven't met, but we're getting even because you're someone who tries to remain unknown!"
The central nervous system surgeon shook the respected hand extended to him, presenting himself by his ID card name instead of Talish, which everyone accepted and used to mean "a citizen above the citizenry who has created housing for himself at the Shipyard."
"Talish Talishovich..."
"Doctor, it's interesting how even the average person pronounced your name correctly, except for your last name."
"Isn't what's truly interesting, madam, is that my family, like primitive nomads who would mistake an elf for a rafter if they saw one, found a name suitable for my talent? As you know, nomads don't name their children; they wait and judge their name based on whatever talent they possess."
"Ah, ah...don't pick at my wound. Unfortunately, I have a perception that, in humanity's tens of thousands of years of civilization, emotions have always surpassed reason. A painful one, to be honest, and with all the perception-mongering things going on!
Surgeon Talish Talishovich, I call him the aristocratic madam, didn't bother to comment on him, because he knew that such chains of speech were unorganized logical outbursts and benefited no one. But he couldn't help but use a conversational pause that made him strongly feel his turn had come.
"Would you excuse me, sir, if I were to ask you out of the blue how I could be of service to you?"
The noblewoman was ruthless.
"Your Russian is so scattered as to embarrass your interlocutor, if not inadequate, of course.
Comrade Talish, the surgeon, as the saying goes, interrupted the esteemed Lady in American English; his aim, naturally, was to learn the esteemed lady's name.
"Er...Lady...?"
"My name is Grape, our family name, that is, our surname, of course. You may call me Madam Grape."
"On what occasion was the prefix 'Grapefruit' given to your family... may I ask, sir?"
"There's no need to be overly polite about this, doctor. I realize our family name is inappropriate!"
Rather than apologize, Surgeon Talish chose to reexamine the reason for their encounter. Lady Grape was a straightforward person, and without hesitation, she explained the reason:
"My uncle is seriously ill. So much so that you need your help to decide whether he's sick or dead."
As their conversation continued, they had already left the platform where they'd met in the lady's saloon car and entered a luxurious road far from the city center—a satellite town with brand new traffic lines and signs. For a long time, no one spoke; they simply listened to the sound of the road. Whether it was the tires, the road itself,

Annex

THE HEADLINE: AMERICAN-RUSSIAN BROTHERHOOD

The structure of medium-sized or large cities in northeastern, central, and northwestern Siberia, where local newspapers and even magazines can be published, rightly attracts attention. In short, the question of "did the author of the story, or a speaker in the work, add this information?" is seriously worth considering. The crucial information on the front page, covering at least half a page in twelve-point font, should not only be read but shared! Because the first sentence truly surpasses even a laser cannon that shoots down planes: American and Russian heroes share a brotherhood that is least open to debate since the beginning of the world, because they neither fear nor intimidate each other. Furthermore, the people of the lands they occupy—let's not say tribes, because Arabs use the term tribe, but here we have Turkic tribes—are genetically similar, identical, the same. The matter is crucial from this detail alone.
In the work, a citizen who is not a hero enters a bar and sees this headline in the local newspaper, apart from the printed organs representing the general press of the country; he takes it and his frothy coffee and retreats to a secluded corner. The most striking suggestion that the interesting headline practically shoves in the reader's face is this:
Neither the USA nor Russia ever developed through democracy; in both countries, an absolute power within a powerful circle, a leader who, although occasionally inclined towards jesting, was far from frivolous, protected his nation with all sincerity, at the cost of his life, property, and well-being, and elevated it in every way, making it strong and even dominant in the world.
Important note:
Monsieur Barrack, the US special envoy to Syria, who is currently being openly criticized by everyone, also offers the following definition of the subject: We must call it a monarchy identical to democracy, if we know the tested, experienced, and shared definitions of governance in sociology, when it is the rule of a single leader who aspires to govern the people only with the power that love allows, and who is in love with science and his people.