“sources!” — contemptuously shrugs author. Who needs sources? Is it possible to believe the sources? Since when? Whether the reader is conscious of itself, in that it involves itself, suspecting the author in error or, even more so, prove it? Are not you afraid, dear reader, that the successful refutation of the theory of small, put forward your author, will lead you to the inevitable conclusion, that is dark brown substance, in which you are sitting in today's world of nostrils — immanentna, predestined from above or, at least, sent down to Mother Nature? Why do you need this? Meanwhile, the author tries to relieve you from these troubles, proving, aforesaid substance — by human hands. In this sense, the author of your — true humanist. Not, dear reader, you do not need sources. neither sources, no inflows in the form of the testimony of defectors, or even electron ronnye rainfall, dropping straight into the arms dotted with satellites heaven. In this embodiment, the flow you need only the mouth, rather — mouth, followed by — Summing up the sea with the final feature of the horizon. However, is that you've seen.
Nobody, but, He knows the future. And least of all — they, who believe in historical determinism. After they are spies and journalists. Maybe, precisely for this reason that the first act is often under the guise of second. of course, if we are talking about the future, Any activity is good “legend”. But still gathering information beats all other forms of activities, because any piece of information, including secret, is a product of the past; almost by definition,, Information has to deal with a fait accompli. Whether it's the new bomb, planned invasion or change policy, You can only find out about, what has happened, that has already taken place. The paradox lies in the fact of espionage, that the more you know about your opponent, the more it slows down your own development, since knowledge of it leads you all the time trying to overtake him, in order to thwart his efforts. Forcing you to change the priority tasks, it leaves you free time. Therefore, the better you spies, the more dependent you are on a tributary, that you recognize them. You no longer are acting on its own, but only react. It dooms you to slip past, almost leaving no access to this and completely closing the road to the future. That is, in the future, which you would have himself planned, not talking — created. Imagine this, that the Soviet Union would not have stolen US nuclear secrets and thus in the last forty years have not had the opportunity to brandish nuclear warheads. Surely it would be a completely different country — perhaps, not much more prosperous, than today — because of ideology; but, at least, the fiasco, witnesses which we now find ourselves, It could have happened much earlier. At worst, they could build a viable option his socialism. But when you steal a thing, She obsesses you or, at least, your abilities. Given the zeal of our English friend and his buddies, here is some ability was not limited to: Russian buyers of both hands were — and for quite a while — too busy, to build socialism; they kept the loot. One could even say, that betraying his empire on a scale, These Gavrik actually provided this service to the Empire more substantial, than its most zealous bearers. For the volume of classified information, transmitted boards at Cambridge Release pets 1931 of the year, fascinated recipients to such an extent, what, at least, its foreign policy are largely constructed based on the yield on its own undercover lands. That is, employees of the Moscow Center like seven days a week continuously read the Sunday papers, instead of, to wash the dishes or to reduce children to the zoo.
So that, dear reader, can not say, it was all in vain, truth? although you, maybe, tired of our story is not less, than the author himself. Come on, we refer to fatigue, We reject the findings and do without mistrust and, especially, sarcasm. Generally in the complexity of thought there is nothing wrong, Except, complexity that is always achieved at the expense of depth. Let's sit down in your Japanese “Toyota”, good, it consumes too much of the Arab petroleum, and go have a bite. In a restaurant? Chinese? Vietnamese? Thailand? Indian? Mexican? Hungarian? Polish? The more we arrange overseas, the more varied our menu. Spanish? Greek? French? Italian? May be, the only thing, it was the dead spies in life good, so is, that they had a choice. But here, even as I write these lines, radio reported, that the Soviet Union no longer exists. Then well, in Armenian? Uzbek? Kazakh? Estonian? Something today, we feel like dining at home. The reluctance of the English.
Why so worry about the deceased spies? And why it is impossible to suppress nausea, occurs when a literary magazine cover? Is it too strong reaction? What is new is, someone believes, if somewhere there is a just society, that in this old Rousseau delirium, embodied or disembodied, — special? each era, Every generation has a right to their own utopia, including the age of Philby. Sure, ability to remain faithful to the age nonsense, when it is time to take a loan to buy a house (not to mention retirement), ozadachivaet, however, this can be attributed to temperament or to the organic nature of the disease. Catholic, especially the poor Catholic, can assess these difficulties and, if he is a writer, make this something edible — as, however, and Gentile. Or maybe, I feel sick just because of violation of the scale, due to the dispersed image as a minor subject, just mark, resulting in perforation of the scale gets linen fringe — plate, pillowcases, blankets, petticoat? May be, I have difficulty with the fringe on underwear? Another childhood trauma? The day was hot, and for a moment it seemed to me, that the brand with magazine covers and so and will continue to grow and grow Belsayz Park, Xempsted, and will become more and more. in short, hallucination. Surrealist poet had read! Or retina-old woman seen enough posters snouts Politburo — a portrait on the stamp looks like a good deal on them, despite the similarity with Alec Guinness and Coach Howard. A plus, of course, Cyrillic… no wonder, that dizzy. Not, it was not so. No hallucinations were not. It was just the face — of those persons, which would not have noticed, if not text, dialed, to all other, Cyrillic. At that moment I felt sorry for, I know Russian. I stood, frantically searching for the English word, to guard against the feeling of personal involvement, emitted Russian letters. As often happens with linguistic halfbreeds, correct word does not tuck — so I turned and walked out of the store. I remembered the word in the street, but precisely because of this word could not turn back and buy a newspaper. The word was — “treachery” (betrayal).
Wonderful English word, but? creaky, as a board, thrown over a precipice. In the sense of onomatopoeia — stronger ethics. it — acoustics taboo. Because tribal boundaries are determined primarily by its language. If a word you do not stop, means, It is not your tribe. His vowels and hissing not generate instinctive reaction, do not make nerve cells twitch of disgust, you do not throw in a cold sweat from them. And then, command of the language of that tribe is merely mimicry. What, in turn, It indicates your affiliation with some other evolutionary order. To — or if you, nadlingvisticheskomu — in terms of language, which is the word “treachery”. Preventing sudden transformation of bone gelatin. Since evolution is not over yet; it still continues. “The Origin of species” — not the end, best case scenario — milestone. Since not all people — people. This grade — a series “Armored and shellfish”. We are still at the bottom of the sea.
Stamps increase amenable, but do not decrease. That is, you can reduce, but it is meaningless. What is the self-defense of small things, if not just their raison d'etre. And they can only increase. At least, if you work for a design department literary newspaper with a modest past shtreykbreherskim. “increase”, — says the editor, and you playfully marshiruesh the lab. can not be reduced, truth? Just would never. Today should press — and the thing will increase or decrease. Before natural size or sizes to lice. Click again — and lice disappear. died. Not, Editor asks another. He wants, to life-size. Large. To the size of his imagination, if not his dilemma. “you would drink with this person? to shake his hand?” An old English proverb, but now it — chic, with a touch of “retro”. Mother, nowadays you press the button — and swamp memory bubbling and surging etsya — by Pas-de-Calais to the Bering diarrhea, from the 30's to the present day. For that is the story for today's active generation — for Catholics doubted, editors and the like. Because nowadays everything — chic and all — “retro”, — not for nothing that the court of the fin de siecle. If the day is coming that is preparing, the expense of the bank. On the one only you worked today, if you had access to classified information, if I wanted to challenge his class or his country? Arabs? on Japanese? whose agent, not talking -“mole”, you could be? The whole world is now — one village; from there take a loyalty or blood supplies! Not, Now I do not betray Europe Asia — us, afraid, conversely. goodbye, beliefs, goodbye, dear old godless communism. Now, old man, you have only the nostalgia and “retro”. From trendy baggy trousers to matte black VCR, stereo system or instrument panel in the car — a la blued steel gun barrel. This has now gone radicalism, this is now chic — in Europe, and in Asia too,. So go ahead, Increases the louse sample 1950s., because the reduction will deprive you of personal history. What would you be without it, without major traitor, and not caught and did not repent, — in your past? Just zero in the tax statements, somewhat akin to that old rascal, when he was still receiving a salary in pounds sterling. fire away, increase! Pity, it is impossible to make bulk! And it is a pity, what, pressing the magnification button, you do not know, that in less than three weeks, all the thing, for which this person was trying all his life, smashed to pieces.
in COE. A cross between a lawn and a public garden in Kensington, with a fountain or a statue in the middle. Generally, sculpture. modern, but nechereschur. abstract, with a large hole in the center and across the strings — like a guitar, but less feminine. gray. Similar have Barbara Hepworth. But it is made of discarded thoughts and unfinished phrases. like lace. With inscribed on the plinth: “beloved spider — grateful web”.