#soviet lyrics

[thesovietonion77]

wrote a song y'all

i wrote a song about Perderé in the RH!AU and its cool, methinks it's called It Shows

(Verse 1) At first when it started I thought that it was all real how exactly did i feel When i never had departed

(Prechorus) found myself in a depression I learned it was all a sham After you forced me into submission Like the dog you think i am

(Chorus) And it's not fair, i know But theres nowhere i can go And forever to you, i'm tied I just wish that i had died And you don't care, i know I'm punished if i don't show And you use me and abuse me Just to order me to keep a ruse… And it shows

(Verse 2) I'm performing on a stage If i fall, i'm met with rage And it takes a while to gauge Just how much that i can take

(Prechorus) my feathers fall to the ground But you tell me to go back down And you're pulling on my tail Like i chose to enter this jail

(Chorus) And it's not fair, i know But theres nowhere i can go When they banished me, put me through strife I wish that they'd ended my life And you don't care, i know I'm punished if i don't show And i simply cannot break these chains My wings are clipped, you have the reins… And it shows

(Verse 3) And this little hotel noticed These nice ladies took me in Gave me a place that was free from sin I felt i could uncuff my shins

(Prechorus) And it's funny, really now All those years that i had bowed I realized that you're just some 12 foot tall french piece of sentient metal that i could stab if i wanted to

(Chorus) (Emotionally) I'll make things fair, you know And there's nowhere you can go As i laugh at all your cries see the terror in your eyes And I don't care anymore That you called me a little whore et je vais te tuer, espèce de salaud et je m'assurerai qu'ils ne trouvent pas ton cadavre rouillé-!…

(Outro) So it shows How i was treated Like a pet for you to beat and fight finally it all came back to bite you And now they all know That you were defeated I did it in a frenzy From you I'm finally free

And it shows

[sovietpostcards]

“The Crystal Glass House” by Vladimir Vysotsky (1974)

[miffyismyfriend]

80s Soviet Synthpop Альянс - На заре (At dawn) USSR, 1987

На заре (lyrics and translation that I found online)

Ночь, печаль и плеск души,

Ровный бег моей судьбы,

Лунный свет и майский дождь в небесах.

A smooth run of my fate,

Night, sadness and glitter of the soul.

Moonlight and rain of May in the skies.

Долгий век моей звезды,

Сонный блеск земной росы,

Громкий смех и райский мёд в небесах.

Long life of my star,

Sleepy glitter of earthly dew,

Loud laughter and heavenly mead in the skies.

На заре голоса зовут меня.

На заре голоса зовут меня.

At dawn, voices are calling for me.

At dawn, voices are calling for me.

Солнца свет и сердца звук,

Робкий взгляд и сила рук,

Звёздный час моей мечты в небесах.

Sunlight and heartbeat,

Timid look and arm strength,

Time for my daydream to shine in the skies.

На заре голоса зовут меня.

На заре голоса зовут меня.

На заре голоса зовут меня.

На заре небеса зовут меня.

На заре.

At dawn, voices are calling for me.

At dawn, voices are calling for me.

At dawn, voices are calling for me.

At dawn, sky is calling for me.

At dawn.

[vinzulu]

i don't think I could translate it

[empty-styrofoam]

The flowers you gave me are rotting, and still I refuse to throw them away.

Some of the bulbs never opened quite fully, but they might so I’m waiting and staying awake.

Things I have loved, I’m allowed to keep. I’ll never know if I go to sleep.

[lokigodofaces]

listening to "we didn't start the fire" in 2022 can be an experience

[lonestatus]

i wish i knew every language on earth so that i could understand these beautiful songs im hearing

[robinsnest2111]

guess this song will be stuck in my head for a while

[liebgotts-lovergirl]

♬ The blood on my hands scares me to death ♬

[schizodiaries]

I’ve never been formally diagnosed with asd but I look back at some of my behaviors and mannerisms growing up and well I cant say I’d be surprised if I found out I’m at least a little bit autistic

[mostlymanymonsters]

Just before the pandemic  started, I found myself working on a drawing inspired by a song that has frequently gotten stuck in my head, Camper Van Beethoven's Humid Press of Days.  The lyrics to me convey the fascination, exhilaration and closely linked terror of space travel.  It speaks about the periods beyond just ignition and taking off -- the silence and still dull emptiness -- and what that means for a living feeling body.

I could not help but project that onto the story of Laika, the street dog in the Soviet Union selected for the Sputnik program and the thoughts ended up a pen and ink:

Which I later added in a hand written frame of the lyrics and gave to a friend who loves space and science fiction for Christmas.

I liked the design from my drawing enough, I wanted to do some sort of edition of it and landed on making it an enamel pin.  

Most of the photos I found of Laika's flight gear were in black and white, so I tried to select colors that reminded me of NASA suits I had seen. For the backing card, I included the constellations Orion, Lepus the rabbit, and of course Canis Major and Minor. Laika sits in the center on top of the unicorn constellation, Monoceros.

And that's the background on my tribute to the little dog that went to space.

[etz-ashashiyot]

Chapter 4: Executed Jews

By Dara Horn, excerpted from People Love Dead Jews

ALA ZUSKIN PERELMAN AND I HAD BEEN IN TOUCH ONLINE before I finally met her in person, and I still cannot quite believe she exists. Years ago, I wrote a novel about Marc Chagall and the Yiddish-language artists whom he once knew in Russia, all of whom were eventually murdered by the Soviet regime. While researching the novel, I found myself sucked into the bizarre story of these people's exploitation and destruction: how the Soviet Union first welcomed these artists as exemplars of universal human ideals, then used them for its own purposes, and finally executed them. I named my main character after the executed Yiddish actor Benjamin Zuskin, a comic performer known for playing fools. After the book came out, I heard from Ala in an email written in halting English: "I am Benjamin Zuskin's daughter." That winter I was speaking at a literary conference in Israel, where Ala lived, and she and I arranged to meet. It was like meeting a character from a book.

My hosts had generously put me up with other writers in a beautiful stone house in Jerusalem. We were there during Hanukkah, the celebration of Jewish independence. On the first night of the holiday, I walked to Jerusalem's Old City and watched as people lit enormous Hanukkah torches at the Western Wall. I thought of my home in New Jersey, where in school growing up I sang fake English Hanukkah songs created by American music education companies at school Christmas concerts, with lyrics describing Hanukkah as being about "joy and peace and love." Joy and peace and love describe Hanukkah, a commemoration of an underdog military victory over a powerful empire, about as well as they describe the Fourth of July. I remembered challenging a chorus teacher about one such song, and being told that I was a poor sport for disliking joy and peace and love. (Imagine a "Christmas song" with lyrics celebrating Christmas, the holiday of freedom. Doesn't everyone like freedom? What pedant would reject such a song?) I sang those words in front of hundreds of people to satisfy my neighbors that my tradition was universal — meaning, just like theirs. The night before meeting Ala, I walked back to the house through the dense stone streets of the Old City's Jewish Quarter, where every home had a glass case by its door, displaying the holiday's oil lamps. It was strange to see those hundreds of glowing lights. They were like a shining announcement that this night of celebration was shared by all these strangers around me, that it was universal. The experience was so unfamiliar that I didn't know what to make of it.

The next morning, Ala knocked on the door of the stone house and sat down in its living room, with its view of the Old City. She was a small dark-haired woman whose perfect posture showed a firmness that belied her age. She looked at me and said in Hebrew, "I feel as if you knew my father, like you understood what he went through. How did you know?"

The answer to that question goes back several thousand years.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

The teenage boys who participated in competitive athletics in the gymnasium in Jerusalem 2,200 years ago had their circumcisions reversed, because otherwise they wouldn't have been allowed to play. In the Hellenistic empire that had conquered Judea, sports were sacred, the entry point to being a person who mattered, the ultimate height of cool — and sports, of course, were always played in the nude. As one can imagine, ancient genital surgery of this nature was excruciating and potentially fatal. But the boys did not want to miss out.

I learned this fun fact in seventh grade, from a Hebrew school teacher who was instructing me and my pubescent classmates about the Hanukkah story — about how Hellenistic tyranny gained a foothold in ancient Judea with the help of Jews who wanted to fit in. This teacher seemed overly jazzed to talk about penises with a bunch of adolescents, and I suspected he'd made the whole thing up. At home, I decided to fact-check. I pulled a dusty old book off my parents' shelf, Volume One of Heinrich Graetz's opus History of the Jews.

In nineteenth-century academic prose, Graetz explained how the leaders of Judea demonstrated their loyalty to the occupying Hellenistic empire by building a gymnasium and recruiting teenage athletes — only to discover that "in uncovering their bodies they could immediately be recognized as Judeans. But were they to take part in the Olympian games, and expose themselves to the mockery of Greek scoffers? Even this difficulty they evaded by undergoing a painful operation, so as to disguise the fact that they were Judeans." Their Zeus-worshipping overlords were not fooled. Within a few years, the regime outlawed not only circumcision but all of Jewish religious practice, and put to death anyone who didn't comply.

Sometime after that, the Maccabees showed up. That's the part of the story we usually hear.

Those ancient Jewish teenagers were on my mind that Hanukkah when Ala came to tell me about her father's terrifying life, because I sensed that something profound united them — something that doesn't match what we're usually taught about what bigotry looks or feels like. It doesn't involve "intolerance" or "persecution," at least not at first. Instead, it looks like the Jews themselves are choosing to reject their own traditions. It is a form of weaponized shame.

Two distinct patterns of antisemitism can be identified by the Jewish holidays that celebrate triumphs over them: Purim and Hanukkah. In the Purim version of antisemitism, exemplified by the Persian genocidal decrees in the biblical Book of Esther, the goal is openly stated and unambiguous: Kill all the Jews. In the Hanukkah version of antisemitism, whose appearances range from the Spanish Inquisition to the Soviet regime, the goal is still to eliminate Jewish civilization. But in the Hanukkah version, this goal could theoretically be accomplished simply by destroying Jewish civilization, while leaving the warm, de-Jewed bodies of its former practitioners intact.

For this reason, the Hanukkah version of antisemitism often employs Jews as its agents. It requires not dead Jews but cool Jews: those willing to give up whatever specific aspect of Jewish civilization is currently uncool. Of course, Judaism has always been uncool, going back to its origins as the planet's only monotheism, featuring a bossy and unsexy invisible God. Uncoolness is pretty much Judaism's brand, which is why cool people find it so threatening — and why Jews who are willing to become cool are absolutely necessary to Hanukkah antisemitism's success. These "converted" Jews are used to demonstrate the good intentions of the regime — which of course isn't antisemitic but merely requires that its Jews publicly flush thousands of years of Jewish civilization down the toilet in exchange for the worthy prize of not being treated like dirt, or not being murdered. For a few years. Maybe.

I wish I could tell the story of Ala's father concisely, compellingly, the way everyone prefers to hear about dead Jews. I regret to say that Benjamin Zuskin wasn't minding his own business and then randomly stuffed into a gas chamber, that his thirteen-year-old daughter did not sit in a closet writing an uplifting diary about the inherent goodness of humanity, that he did not leave behind sad-but-beautiful aphorisms pondering the absence of God while conveniently letting his fellow humans off the hook. He didn't even get crucified for his beliefs. Instead, he and his fellow Soviet Jewish artists — extraordinarily intelligent, creative, talented, and empathetic adults — were played for fools, falling into a slow-motion psychological horror story brimming with suspense and twisted self-blame. They were lured into a long game of appeasing and accommodating, giving up one inch after another of who they were in order to win that grand prize of being allowed to live.

Spoiler alert: they lost.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

I was in graduate school studying Yiddish literature, itself a rich vein of discussion about such impossible choices, when I became interested in Soviet Jewish artists like Ala's father. As I dug through library collections of early-twentieth-century Yiddish works, I came across a startling number of poetry books illustrated by Marc Chagall. I wondered if Chagall had known these Yiddish writers whose works he illustrated, and it turned out that he had. One of Chagall's first jobs as a young man was as an art teacher at a Jewish orphanage near Moscow, built for children orphaned by Russia's 1919-1920 civil war pogroms. This orphanage had a rather renowned faculty, populated by famous Yiddish writers who trained these traumatized children in the healing art of creativity.

It all sounded very lovely, until I noticed something else. That Chagall's art did not rely on a Jewish language — that it had, to use that insidious phrase, "universal appeal" — allowed him a chance to succeed as an artist in the West. The rest of the faculty, like Chagall, had also spent years in western Europe before the Russian revolution, but they chose to return to Russia because of the Soviet Union's policy of endorsing Yiddish as a "national Soviet language." In the 1920s and 30s, the USSR offered unprecedented material support to Yiddish culture, paying for Yiddish-language schools, theaters, publishing houses, and more, to the extent that there were Yiddish literary critics who were salaried by the Soviet government. This support led the major Yiddish novelist Dovid Bergelson to publish his landmark 1926 essay "Three Centers," about New York, Warsaw, and Moscow as centers of Yiddish-speaking culture, asking which city offered Yiddish writers the brightest prospects. His unequivocal answer was Moscow, a choice that brought him back to Russia the following year, where many other Jewish artists joined him.

But Soviet support for Jewish culture was part of a larger plan to brainwash and coerce national minorities into submitting to the Soviet regime — and for Jews, it came at a very specific price. From the beginning, the regime eliminated anything that celebrated Jewish "nationality" that didn't suit its needs. Jews were awesome, provided they weren't practicing Jewish religion, studying traditional Jewish texts, using Hebrew, or supporting Zionism. The Soviet Union thus pioneered a versatile gaslighting slogan, which it later spread through its client states in the developing world and which remains popular today: it was not antisemitic, merely anti-Zionist. (In the process of not being antisemitic and merely being anti-Zionist, the regime managed to persecute, imprison, torture, and murder thousands of Jews.) What's left of Jewish culture once you surgically remove religious practice, traditional texts, Hebrew, and Zionism? In the Soviet Empire, one answer was Yiddish, but Yiddish was also suspect for its supposedly backwards elements. Nearly 15 percent of its words came directly from biblical and rabbinic Hebrew, so Soviet Yiddish schools and publishers, under the guise of "simplifying" spelling, implemented a new and quite literally antisemitic spelling system that eliminated those words' Near Eastern roots. Another answer was "folklore" — music, visual art, theater, and other creative work reflecting Jewish life — but of course most of that cultural material was also deeply rooted in biblical and rabbinic sources, or reflected common religious practices like Jewish holidays and customs, so that was treacherous too.

No, what the regime required were Yiddish stories that showed how horrible traditional Jewish practice was, stories in which happy, enlightened Yiddish-speaking heroes rejected both religion and Zionism (which, aside from its modern political form, is also a fundamental feature of ancient Jewish texts and prayers traditionally recited at least three times daily). This de-Jewing process is clear from the repertoire of the government-sponsored Moscow State Yiddish Theater, which could only present or adapt Yiddish plays that denounced traditional Judaism as backward, bourgeois, corrupt, or even more explicitly — as in the many productions involving ghosts or graveyard scenes — as dead. As its actors would be, soon enough.

The Soviet Union's destruction of Jewish culture commenced, in a calculated move, with Jews positioned as the destroyers. It began with the Yevsektsiya, committees of Jewish Bolsheviks whose paid government jobs from 1918 through 1930 were to persecute, imprison, and occasionally murder Jews who participated in religious or Zionist institutions — categories that included everything from synagogues to sports clubs, all of which were shut down and their leaders either exiled or "purged." This went on, of course, until the regime purged the Yevsektsiya members themselves.

The pattern repeated in the 1940s. As sordid as the Yeveksiya chapter was, I found myself more intrigued by the undoing of the Jewish Antifascist Committee, a board of prominent Soviet Jewish artists and intellectuals established by Joseph Stalin in 1942 to drum up financial support from Jews overseas for the Soviet war effort. Two of the more prominent names on the JAC's roster of talent were Solomon Mikhoels, the director of the Moscow State Yiddish Theater, and Ala's father Benjamin Zuskin, the theater's leading actor. After promoting these people during the war, Stalin decided these loyal Soviet Jews were no longer useful, and charged them all with treason. He had decided that this committee he himself created was in fact a secret Zionist cabal, designed to bring down the Soviet state. Mikhoels was murdered first, in a 1948 hit staged to look like a traffic accident. Nearly all the others — Zuskin and twelve more Jewish luminaries, including the novelist Dovid Bergelson, who had proclaimed Moscow as the center of the Yiddish future — were executed by firing squad on August 1952.

Just as the regime accused these Jewish artists and intellectuals of being too "nationalist" (read: Jewish), today's long hindsight makes it strangely tempting to read this history and accuse them of not being "nationalist" enough — that is, of being so foolishly committed to the Soviet regime that they were unable to see the writing on the wall. Many works on this subject have said as much. In Stalin's Secret Pogrom, the indispensable English translation of transcripts from the JAC "trial," Russia scholar Joshua Rubenstein concludes his lengthy introduction with the following:

As for the defendants at the trial, it is not clear what they believed about the system they each served. Their lives darkly embodied the tragedy of Soviet Jewry. A combination of revolutionary commitment and naive idealism had tied them to a system they could not renounce. Whatever doubts or misgivings they had, they kept to themselves, and served the Kremlin with the required enthusiasm. They were not dissidents. They were Jewish martyrs. They were also Soviet patriots. Stalin repaid their loyalty by destroying them.

This is completely true, and also completely unfair. The tragedy — even the term seems unjust, with its implied blaming of the victim — was not that these Soviet Jews sold their souls to the devil, though many clearly did. The tragedy was that integrity was never an option in the first place.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Ala was almost thirteen years old when her father was arrested and until that moment she was immersed in the Soviet Yiddish artistic scene. Her mother was also an actor in the Moscow State Yiddish Theater; her family lived in the same building as the murdered theater director Solomon Mikhoels, and moved in the same circles as other Jewish actors and writers. After seeing her parents perform countless times, Ala had a front-row seat to the destruction of their world. She attended Mikhoel's state funeral, heard about the arrest of the brilliant Yiddish author Der Nister from an actor friend who witnessed it from her apartment across the hall, and was present when secret police ransacked her home in conjunction with her father's arrest. In her biography, The Travels of Benjamin Zuskin, she provides for her readers what she gave me that morning in Jerusalem: an emotional recounting, with the benefit of hindsight, of what it was really like to live through the Soviet Jewish nightmare.

It's as close as we can get, anyway. Her father Benjamin Zuskin's own thoughts on the topic are available only from state interrogations extracted under unknown tortures. (One typical interrogation document from his three and a half years in the notorious Lubyanka Prison announces that the day's interrogation lasted four hours, but the transcript is only half a page long — leaving to the imagination how the interrogator and interrogatee may have spent their time together. Suffice it to say that another JAC detainee didn't make it to trial alive.) His years in prison began when he was arrested in December of 1948 in a Moscow hospital room, where he was being treated for chronic insomnia brought on by the murder of his boss and career-long acting partner, Mikhoels; the secret police strapped him to a gurney and carted him to prison in his hospital gown while he was still sedated.

But in order to truly appreciate the loss here, one needs to know what was lost — to return to the world of the great Yiddish writer Sholem Aleichem, the author of Benjamin Zuskin's first role on the Yiddish stage, in a play fittingly titled It's a Lie!

Benjamin Zuskin's path to the Yiddish theater and later to the Soviet firing squad began in a shtetl comparable to those immortalized in Sholem Aleichem's work. Zuskin, a child from a traditional family who was exposed to theater only through traveling Yiddish troupes and clowning relatives, experienced that world's destruction: his native Lithuanian shtetl, Ponievezh, was among the many Jewish towns forcibly evacuated during the First World War, catapulting him and hundreds of thousands of other Jewish refugees into modernity. He landed in Penza, a city with professional Russian theater and Yiddish amateur troupes. In 1920, the Moscow State Yiddish Theater opened, and by 1921, Zuskin was starring alongside Mikhoels, the theater's leading light.

In the one acting class I have ever attended, I learned only one thing: acting isn't about pretending to be someone you aren't, but rather about emotional communication. Zuskin, who not only starred in most productions but also taught in the theater's acting school, embodied the concept. His very first audition was a one-man sketch he created, consisting of nothing more than a bumbling old tailor threading a needle — without words, costumes, or props. It became so popular that he performed it to entranced crowds for years. This physical artistry animated his every role. As one critic wrote, "Even the slightest breeze and he is already air-bound."

Zuskin specialized in playing figures like the Fool in King Lear — as his daughter puts it in her book, characters who "are supposed to make you laugh, but they have an additional dimension, and they arouse poignant reflections about the cruelty of the world." Discussing his favorite roles, Zuskin once explained that "my heart is captivated particularly by the image of the person who is derided and humiliated, but who loves life, even though he encounters obstacles placed before him through no fault of his own."

The first half of Ala's book seems to recount only triumphs. The theater's repertoire in its early years was largely adopted from classic Yiddish writers like Sholem Aleichem, I. L. Peretz, and Mendele Moykher Seforim. The book's title is drawn from Zuskin's most famous role: Senderl, the Sancho Panza figure in Mendele's Don Quixote-inspired work, Travels of Benjamin the Third, about a pair of shtetl idiots who set out for the Land of Israel and wind up walking around the block. These productions were artistically inventive, brilliantly acted, and played to packed houses both at home and on tour. Travels of Benjamin the Third, in a 1928 review typical of the play's reception, was lauded by the New York Times as "one of the most originally conceived and beautifully executed evenings in the modern theater."

One of the theater's landmark productions, I. L. Peretz's surrealist masterpiece At Night in the Old Marketplace, was first performed in 1925. The play, set in a graveyard, is a kind of carnival for the graveyard's gathered ghosts. Those who come back from the dead are misfits like drunks and prostitutes, and also specific figures from shtetl life - yeshiva idlers, synagogue beadles, and the like. Leading them all is a badkhn, or wedding jester — divided in this production into two mirror-characters played by Mikhoels and Zuskin — whose repeated chorus among the living corpses is "The dead will rise!" "Within this play there was something hidden, something with an ungraspable depth," Ala writes, and then relates how after a performance in Vienna, one theatergoer came backstage to tell the director that "the play had shaken him as something that went beyond all imagination." The theatergoer was Sigmund Freud.

As Ala traces the theater's trajectory toward doom, it becomes obvious why this performance so affected Freud. The production was a zombie story about the horrifying possibility of something supposedly dead (here, Jewish civilization) coming back to life. The play was written a generation earlier as a Romantic work, but in the Moscow production, it became a means of denigrating traditional Jewish life without mourning it. That fantasy of a culture's death as something compelling and even desirable is not merely reminiscent of Freud's death drive, but also reveals the self-destructive bargain implicit in the entire Soviet-sponsored Jewish enterprise. In her book, Ala beautifully captures this tension as she explains the badkhn's role: "He sends a double message: he denies the very existence of the vanishing shadow world, and simultaneously he mocks it, as if it really does exist."

This double message was at the heart of Benjamin Zuskin's work as a comic Soviet Yiddish actor, a position that required him to mock the traditional Jewish life he came from while also pretending that his art could exist without it. "The chance to make fun of the shtetl which has become a thing of the past charmed me," he claimed early on, but later, according to his daughter, he began to privately express misgivings. The theater's decision to stage King Lear as a way of elevating itself disturbed him, suggesting as it did that the Yiddish repertoire was inferior. His own integrity came from his deep devotion to yiddishkayt, a sense of essential and enduring Jewishness, no matter how stripped-down that identity had become. "With the sharp sense of belonging to everything Jewish, he was tormented by the theater forsaking its expression of this belonging," his daughter writes. Even so, "no, he could not allow himself to oppose the Soviet regime even in his thoughts, the regime that gave him his own theater, but 'the heart and the wit do not meet.'"

In Ala's memory, her father differed from his director, partner, and occasional rival, Mikhoels, in his complete disinterest in politics. Mikhoels was a public figure as well as performer, and his leadership of the Jewish Antifascist Committee, while no more voluntary than any public act in a totalitarian state, was a role he played with gusto, traveling to America in 1943 and speaking to thousands of American Jews to raise money for the Red Army in their battle against the Nazis. Zuskin, on the other hand, was on the JAC roster, but seems to have continued playing the fool. According to both his daughter and his trial testimony, his role in the JAC was almost identical to his role on a Moscow municipal council, limited to playing chess in the back of the room during meetings.

In Jerusalem, Ala told me that her father was "a pure soul." "He had no interest in politics, only in his art," she said, describing his acting style as both classic and contemporary, praised by critics for its timeless qualities that are still evident today in his film work. But his talent was the most nuanced and sophisticated thing about him. Offstage, he was, as she put it in Hebrew, a "tam" — a biblical term sometimes translated as fool or simpleton, but which really means an innocent. (It is the first adjective used to describe the title character in the Book of Job.) It is true that in trial transcripts, Zuskin comes out looking better than many of his co-defendants by playing dumb instead of pointing fingers. But was this ignorance, or a wise acceptance of the futility of trying to save his skin? As King Lear's Fool put it, "They'll have me whipp'd for speaking true; thou'lt have me whipp'd for holding my peace." Reflecting on her father's role as a fool named Pinia in a popular film, Ala writes in her book, "When I imagine the moment when my father heard his death sentence, I see Pinia in close-up . . . his shoulders slumped, despair in his appearance. I hear the tone that cannot be imitated in his last line in the film — and perhaps also the last line in his life? — 'I don't understand anything.'"

Yet it is clear that Zuskin deeply understood how impossible his situation was. In one of the book's more disturbing moments, Ala describes him rehearsing for one of his landmark roles, that of the comic actor Hotsmakh in Sholem Aleichem's Wandering Stars, a work whose subject is the Yiddish theater. He had played the role before, but this production was going up in the wake of Mikhoel's murder. Zuskin was already among the hunted, and he knew it. As Ala writes:

One morning — already after the murder of Mikhoels — I saw my father pacing the room and memorizing the words of Hotsmakh's role. Suddenly, in a gesture revealing a hopeless anguish, Father actually threw himself at me, hugged me, pressed me to his heart, and together with me, continued to pace the room and to memorize the words of the role. That evening I saw the performance . . . "The doctors say that I need rest, air, and the sea . . . For what . . . without the theater?" [Hotsmakh asks], he winds the scarf around his neck — as though it were a noose. For my father, I think those words of Hotsmakh were like the motif of the role and — I think — of his own life.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Describing the charges levied against Zuskin and his peers is a degrading exercise, for doing so makes it seem as though these charges are worth considering. They are not. It is at this point that Hanukkah antisemitism transformed, as it inevitably does, into Purim antisemitism. Here Ala offers what hundreds of pages of state archives can't, describing the impending horror of the noose around one's neck.

Her father stopped sleeping, began receiving anonymous threats, and saw that he was being watched. No conversation was safe. When a visitor from Poland waited near his apartment building to give him news of his older daughter Tamara (who was then living in Warsaw), Zuskin instructed the man to walk behind him while speaking to him and then to switch directions, so as to avoid notice. When the man asked Zuskin what he wanted to tell his daughter, Zuskin "approached the guest so closely that there was no space between them, and whispered in Yiddish, 'Tell her that the ground is burning beneath my feet.'" It is true that no one can know what Zuskin or any of the other defendants really believed about the Soviet system they served. It is also true — and far more devastating — that their beliefs were utterly irrelevant.

Ala and her mother were exiled to Kazakhstan after her father's arrest, and learned of his execution only when they were allowed to return to Moscow in 1955. By then, he had already been dead for three years.

In Jerusalem that morning, Ala told me, in a sudden private moment of anger and candor, that the Soviet Union's treatment of the Jews was worse than Nazi Germany's. I tried to argue, but she shut me up. Obviously the Nazi atrocities against Jews were incomparable, a fact Ala later acknowledged in a calmer mood. But over four generations, the Soviet regime forced Jews to participate in and internalize their own humiliation - and in that way, Ala suggested, they destroyed far more souls. And they never, ever, paid for it.

"They never had a Nuremberg," Ala told me that day, with a quiet fury. "They never acknowledged the evil of what they did. The Nazis were open about what they were doing, but the Soviets pretended. They lured the Jews in, they baited them with support and recognition, they used them, they tricked them, and then they killed them. It was a trap. And no one knows about it, even now. People know about the Holocaust, but not this. Even here in Israel, people don't know. How did you know?"

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

That evening I went out to the Old City again, to watch the torches being lit at the Western Wall for the second night of Hanukkah. I walked once more through the Jewish Quarter, where the oil lamps, now each bearing one additional flame, were displayed outside every home, following the tradition to publicize the Hanukkah miracle — not merely the legendary long-lasting oil, but the miracle of military and spiritual victory over a coercive empire, the freedom to be uncool, the freedom not to pretend. Somewhere nearby, deep underground, lay the ruins of the gymnasium where de-circumcised Jewish boys once performed naked before approving crowds, stripped of their integrity and left with their private pain. I thought of Benjamin Zuskin performing as the dead wedding jester, proclaiming, "The dead will rise!" and then performing again in a "superior" play, as King Lear's Fool. I thought of the ground burning beneath his feet. I thought of his daughter, Ala, now an old woman, walking through Jerusalem.

I am not a sentimental person. As I returned to the stone house that night, along the streets lit by oil lamps, I was surprised to find myself crying.

[revacholianpizzaagenda]

Sacred and Terrible Air: Ibex translation updated to v4.0

(crossposting from reddit)

When Group Ibex's translation went live last June, we called it version 1.0 after several months of covertly sharing an ever-updating work in progress. The updates... have not stopped. These new versions have since fixed a few whoopsies, edited stuff for flow and clarity, brought some more names in line with Disco Elysium's spelling, kept certain translation choices consistent and, of course, added footnotes. What is an ibex if not a dozen footnotes with horns on top.

As always, you can catch the latest version over here: https://old.reddit.com/r/DiscoElysium/comments/13e4tle/sacred_and_terrible_air_püha_ja_õudne_lõhn_full/

Abridged errata:

the big mistake is that Maj's age in chapter 1 was accidentally changed from 5 to 4 at an early editing stage. Our sincere apologies. It is now 5 as it should be, and as is listed later on in the book

and in chapter 2, at one point it's not jumpsuit girl who turns to speak to Khan, but rather von Fersen

the place you are most likely to get shot behind is now consistently a waste disposal facility

Yet more spellings brought in line with Disco Elysium include everyone's favourite polar settlement Yelinka and cool guy Baron von Kikkenberg

As per the inside cover lists, the nominative form of Viderundil is in fact Viderunt, not Viderund

ever wondered about those pesky diamat glasses? There is now a comprehensive footnote for that

you may have noticed that Khan is singing a Beatles song, but did you catch that lyrics by famous punk Estonian band Vennaskond were in Tereesz's mind as he thought of Frantiček the Brave? Checked the full context of that suruese rock? There's footnotes for that too

Finnish slang? Soviet Estonian expressions? Foot. notes.

Cheers, Group Ibex

[jokeroutsubs]

Yugoslavia and yugo rock

Joker Out’s new song, Šta bih ja, was inspired by yugorock! Not sure what that means? JokerOutSubs has got you!

‘Yugo rock’ or ‘Yu rock’ is rock with some elements derived from traditional/ethnic/folklore music, as well as other musical genres, including blues, country, reggae, jazz rock and rockabilly. They were added to appease the public, since rock itself was considered a western influence. 

Rock music in Yugoslavia became popular in the sixties. Before that, after the second world war, partisan songs were more popular. This is music associated with resistance groups that fought German occupation across Yugoslavia, Italy and other parts of Eastern Europe. However, in 1956, the Cominform (a coordinated body of communist parties across Europe, designed to keep all communist governments following Stalinist principles) was dissolved. After this point, the connection with the Soviet Union was severed and music tastes began to change accordingly. 

With influences from the west, rock music started gaining popularity. At first, musicians only sang covers of foreign songs (as closely to the original as possible) but in the sixties, bands such as Indexi started making original music. In the seventies, Bijelo dugme were formed and became incredibly popular. At the same time, Parni valjak were also rising to fame. However, the ‘new wave’ of Yugo rock was said to be started by a group called Buldožer.

Some characteristics of New Wave were more political lyrics and taking inspiration from punk. The most famous New Wave bands in Yugoslavia were Azra, Idoli, Prljavo kazalište, Električni orgazam, Psihomodo pop and, in Slovenia at the time, Lačni Franz, Buldožer and Pankrti (an interview with their singer Peter Lovšin can be found at    • [ENG SUB] Bojan Cvjetićanin about roc...  ). 

A second New Wave generation from Belgrade emerged in later years. Among their representatives were Partibrejkers (formed 1982). They combined the blues with British R and B, rockabilly and classic rock and roll. 

In 1982, the groups Ekaterina Velika and Disciplina Kičme (Disciplin A Kitschme) were established, contributing to the second New Wave generation, along with Slovenian group Videosex (formed 1983) with singer Anja Rupel. One of their most famous songs, a cover of 'Zemlja pleše,' can be found at    • Videosex - Zemlja Plese - The Original

The New Wave was characterised by a burst of creativity and activity in the music scene across the region, with many artists emerging and creating excellent music in a short period of time. Many have drawn parallels between the New Wave era and today, where in Slovenia many young bands are gaining recognition. This parallel is only strengthened by the fact that Joker Out, one of the most successful young bands in Slovenia today, have a song named Novi val (New Wave). 

The socio-political significance

Yugoslavia (1918–1992), a federal republic, was made up of six republics (Bosnia and Herzegovina, Croatia, Macedonia, Montenegro, Serbia, and Slovenia). Despite the differences between the republics one could argue that the pop-cultural identity was so strong, having influence that went beyond government control and the ability to connect people through the region, that it could be named as the seventh republic. Besides sport, yugorock was one of the last connecting links within a  country that was drifting apart in a variety of areas, including economic. 

Important yugorock bands 

Bijelo Dugme: Considered by many to be the biggest Yugo rock band, Bijelo Dugme were formed in 1974 in Sarajevo. They were the biggest trendsetters in rock music at the time. They had a huge influence on Joker Out since their earliest days as a band. In the 'Kofi brejk' interview Bojan shared that the first concert he ever attended was by Bijelo Dugme, and they were also mentioned several times by Joker Out as having had a big influence on the whole band. In addition, Joker Out covered two of their songs, ‘Selma’ (Radio Koper, 32 min) and ‘Djurdjevdan’ (Belgrade concert, 3.11.2023). You can check out some more of their songs on our playlist linked at the bottom of this post!

Plavi orkestar were formed in 1983 in Sarajevo and had a rich career with eight albums, releasing hits such as ‘Ako su to samo bile laži’, ‘Lovac i košuta’, ‘Odlazim’, ‘Bolje biti pijan nego star’, ‘Suada’ and many more. Some media outlets, like Jutarnji list and Mladina have compared Joker Out’s style to theirs, and Bojan also mentioned Plavi orkestar as one of the bands that influenced him.

Parni valjak are a Croatian band, formed in 1975 in Zagreb. They had many ‘evergreen’ hits, including ‘Sve još miriše na nju’, ‘Jesen u meni’ and ‘Zastave’. In the Carpe Diem series, when asked whom they would listen to forever if they could only choose one artist, Jure chose Parni valjak. At Arsenal Fest in 2023, Bojan interrupted an interview to sing along to ‘Jesen u meni’ as they were playing in the background! 

Indexi were a Bosnian band, who were active from 1962 to 2001. They were extremely influential, with hits like ‘Svijet u kome živim’ and ‘Negdje u kraju, u zatišju’, and became known as the ‘pioneers of psychedelic rock and roll.’ In the Kurir interview, Bojan mentions them as one of his musical role models.

Ekatarina velika, sometimes shortened to EKV, were a Serbian band who were active between 1982 and 1994. They are considered one of the most influential artists in the yugorock scene, with popular songs like ‘Krug’, ‘Par godina na nas’ and ‘Srce’. In the Rdeče in črno interview, Bojan’s voice was compared to that of the lead singer in Ekatarina velika. 

Idoli were one of the most remarkable new wave bands based in Belgrade, active during the early 80's. They are regarded as one of the most outstanding and influential representatives of the Yugoslav rock music and their album 'Odbrana i poslednji dani' ('Defense and The Last Days') was voted as the greatest Yugoslav rock album of all time. During the Kurir interview, Bojan mentioned that ‘Ona’ was inspired by Idoli and their unique sound.

Songs Joker Out have mentioned 

‘Računajte na nas’ by Đorđe Balašević is a very important yugorock song in Joker Out’s history, as it inspired the lyrics of ‘Carpe Diem’. While ‘Računajte na nas’ (‘Count on Us’) is about a generation standing up and fighting for peace, Bojan switched the lyric to ‘ne računajte na nas’ (don’t count on us), meaning that you cannot count on them to join in with the ‘game of hatred’ pervasive in modern society. 

‘Kreni prema meni’ is a song performed by Partibrejkers, a Serbian rock band from Belgrade, known for their rebellious energy, both in sound and spirit. The band is still active and well received all over former Yugoslav countries. The song was covered by Joker Out at the Lent festival in 2018.

‘Sanjao sam moju Ružicu’ by Leteći odred was covered by Apokalipsa, Bojan’s former band, in 2015 during Vičstock Avdicija. Bojan also sang it at the Prulček bar with Buržuzija, Kris and Jan’s former band. Leteći odred is a Croatian pop band with a prosperous and successful musical career and performances for over 30 years.

In September 2016, Joker Out posted a setlist from one of their earliest gigs on their Instagram. It included three notable yugorock song covers - ‘Frida’ by Psihomodopop, ‘Motori’ by Divlje jagode and ‘Ne Zovi Mama Doktora’ by Prljavo Kazalište.

If you’d like to listen to any of these artists or songs, check out our curated playlist on YouTube or Spotify!

Sources:

Kregar, Tone, et al. Za domovino - z rockom naprej! Jugo rock: slovensko-srbske paralele. Muzej novejše zgodovine Celje. 2020.

Perković, Ante, and Lah, Klemen. Sedma republika: pop kultura in razpad Jugoslavije. Zenit, 2018.

[aristotels]

so WHAT is croatia doing on esc???

ok i see lots of people not understanding the song so lemme explain!

1) the band is called let 3 and theyre a leftist band from rijeka, croatia. pro-women rights, pro-lgbtq rights, anti-catholic church, etc. as you can see, this song featuring men in makeup and dresses has made lots of conservative croats very angry.

2) croatia has gone through the same situation as in ukraine but in 90es, though without help of foreign countries. it’s no surprise that they chose to portray song about ridiculousness of war and destruction of it. its something very fresh in croatian history and minds of people. ive seen people saying its “making fun” of ukraine situation when its the very opposite thing. the entire band lived through war in croatia and knows what its like.

3) the song is very anti-war, and was not written for esc - its written as a piece of anti-war rock opera. thats why its performance is theatrical and flashy. its supposed to be performed in theatre.

4) meaning of the song:

- at first the song seems v nonsensical and silly, but its actually a really layered song with a strong anti-war, anti-fascist message.

- centerpiece of the song is tractor. thats bc belarus is a manufacturer of tractors AND a brand of tractor; and as well, last year, lukashenko gifted a tractor to putin for his birthday to ‘sew new future’. tractor in the song refers to belarus, so when you hear the lyrics “mom bought a tractor”, it refers to “russia bought belarus”. similarly, “armageddon nona” means “armageddon grandmother”, aka, soviet union.

- “mom loved a moron” is obviously about putin.

- Š is 25th letter of croatian alphabet and Č is 4th. together they make 29th letter - letter Z, the symbol of russian occupators.

- the guy holding the nukes has NJINLE written on his forehead, which in “šatrovački” reads as lenjin.

- theyre dressed as 4 bringers of armageddon - war, plague, death, and hunger.

p.s. if the singing sounded kinda wonky in the first semi-finals... thats bc the main singer caught a cold lmao.

anyway yes consider voting croatia in GF ;P

[thewinchestah]

@markster666 opened pandora's box. i need to tell all my silly alastor is an old man headcanons

since we don't know how much of contemporary history Alastor actually knows, i love to imagine him being completely stunned and flabbergasted, sometimes offended with modernity

he hates modern kitchen appliances. Like he has pure hatred for tvs, this man has nothing but wrath inside his undead heart for air fryers.

Angel showing him the music video for WAP and the spark on Alastor's eyes slowly dwindling as he understand the lyrics and is introduced to twerking

veganism. Vegan meat. Someone handed him an air fryerd cooked soy nugget and he just lost it

explaining the space race to alastor. "they sent a monkey to space" "mankind walked on the moon"

just praking alastor in general with history facts that he didn't witness like running to the hotel lobby and screaming "SOME SINNER JUST SHOWED UP AND SAID THEY KILLED THE FUCKING PRESIDENT asdhjh and it's JFK

I>Really< like the idea of alastor being scared of communism

i know i also would be murdered on the spot i just wanna go to him and say "the soviets are coming, that's right Alastor, the Red Army just joined forces with heaven, the united states is now part of the USSR and they are coming for hell next"

there's a group of teenangers staying in the hotel, all of them got a terminal case of "regina george syndrome" and they drag Al through filth. He doesn't understand a thing and stays there "i'm a what now 😀​😀​😀​

he has been called "bootleg Mr. Darcy" or "ginger voldermot" and "great gatsby" at least once by younger sinners

alastor trying to understand the concept of emojis

just singing "radio gaga by queen" to him

someone using therapy speak on Alastor and his eyes start twitching

Everyone buys into the collective joke that the musical hamilton is actually cannonically united states history to drive him to insanity. Specially everything related to Lin Manuel Miranda

Now the hotel is crowded i think he needs to host an in-house radio show where ppl need insane modern headlines to him and he needs to guess if they are true or not. like "A Japanese man spends 2 Million Yen to become a dog"

. ALL THE FLORIDA MAN HEADLINES "Florida man once arrested for fighting drag queen with tiki torch runs for mayor" "Florida man insists syringes pulled from rectum aren’t his"

someone makes a deal with him so he's now contractually obligated to react to every episode of "keeping up with the kardashians" live on his radio shpw

AJSDHASJDHJSDH I HAVE SO MAY MORE. HE'S SO PETTY. He's totally that uncle that goes "we used to be a proper country"