The System

And it will dissolve in your unconscious. You will need to look for something new That's why we can say that people communicate more because They are all different. What is the point you ask about something over there, man, if he is the same as you. And contains the same knowledge as you. It's like the law of communicating vessels. The system exists as long as it is possible develop.

Or, as she justifies its reason for existence. Once lost meaning, a system for some time continue to move sluggishly, while the upper point of its development. And then begins to destroy itself. Or destroy the time. I think if everyone were the same – they would not care. And they surely would have killed himself.

But people live. People create words. People communicate through words they have created. And even playing with words. No matter who doing it – ten a child or adult well-read man. All building walls, cities, buildings, wells, corridors. One, sitting in the sandbox, scoop wet sand plastic cup and tilts it down the bottom. Another, on site, hauling bags of cement and brick lay, deftly wielding a trowel and a sharp pick bricklayer. The third underground worm enumerates ton of ore. We all get something, just do some get better, others worse. And the question is not why all this?, And why they work? Perhaps the rain will pass the century. And under the low sky, a different land, from this great building, there is nothing left. New monkeys, and possibly supermen of the future, dug in the ground a piece of rotten wood or silver flash drive will be a long look at her.

“Poems – Breath Of The Soul

On the 90th anniversary of VM Kubaneva. Every era raises its heroes. Basil Kuban – poet and journalist – is a prominent representative of the heroic generation of the second half of the 30s of the twentieth century. It was the first time Soviet five-year plans, collectivization of agriculture and industrialization. Built factories, power plants, cities grew. In the collective transplanted from horse to tractor. His happiness in the work we swarm. Growth of the state – our own growth.

Tomorrow can become a hero Everyone now bezvesten and simple. This characteristic makes his generation Basil Kuban. The poet lived only 21 years old, but that life was bright and fruitful. Basil was born January 13, 1921 in the village of Orekhovo Kastornoye region Kursk region into a peasant family. The family then moved to the city of Voronezh region Ostrogozhsk. There’s the future poet learns in high school and writes his first poems, which since 1936 are printed in the newspaper “New Life”. All who knew Basil pointed out that he was the soul of the team and a true romantic. His overwhelmed overwhelming thirst for knowledge: I vyznayu have all the secrets of life and the best words posoberu that, irrepressible blood warmed, they give the ardor pen.

Acquainted with the poetry of Mayakovsky, a young Kubanov was struck by the power of his poetry. In the poem “It is simple and great” poet admits, once authoritatively logged in as a living, his poems in a narrow world of mine. Results for the nine months alone Basil learned French and was free to read novels of Honore Balzac, Romain Rolland and other French classics. Kubanov read so many books and dreamed of writing a novel, an epic about the life of the Soviet countryside. But the war interfered with to implement these plans. In his letter Kubanov writes: “Yesterday I was in a movie, watched” Alexander Nevsky. ” The picture shocked me … I was first, it seems, with some animal force felt as great as nearly as awful danger of war, the danger of invasion of our land bloody robbers. And I asked myself sharp and bitingly: “What have you done? What are you doing? What will you do to relieve your homeland victory in the coming battle? “In the poem” Red Star “the poet writes: If you want peace – in-dash brow vybey target. All bourgeois do not like our government, their dominion open ruin. Gold rings for all. Its radiance for all Snyuhayutsya Intermedia is the enemy. Be prepared to meet these rati! Take care of every blade of grass! When the war started, Basil Kubaneva sent to flight school. There he became seriously ill with pneumonia and was forced to return home, where March 6, 1942 and died at the age of 21. Therefore, until the end of life believed in our victory over fascism: It’s from Berlin to Moscow far away, And from Moscow to Berlin closer! From Basil Kubaneva were poetry, journalism, letters, diaries, which convey to us the exact signs of his time, his generation and profound meditation on art, love and friendship. Creativity Basil Kubaneva was remains important because it teaches us to love their homeland, people, man: I leave with no one and nothing. I – all my wealth and inheritance. Saying goodbye to the world I said: Let all the mutual consent to seek, let man will love humanity.