I’m alright. Sometimes I’m wrong.

“A serious and good philosophical work could be entirely of jokes.”

— Ludwig Wittgenstein

The setup is that I think I know everything. The punchline is that I’m totally ignorant.

Seventy-five million deaths shocks my bones.

Why didn’t I learn this number, earlier? Why do I still know nothing about anything?

That one night in 1991 inflation rose prices of goods some 200%.

Economic collapse and inflation ensued.

But how would they afford to eat? Afford to pay rent?

People just like you and me lost their homes. Their life’s savings vanished into thin air as a byproduct of this man’s ambition.

Women and children begged for rubles or worked as prostitutes and a lucky man would be paid with 13 barrels of sunflower oil or with some another commodity.

Rampant

starvation and

death and

rented coffins

heroin from Afghanistan and East Asia

widespread alcoholism

I can only begin to comprehend the Russian people’s desire for stability. How could anybody forget that?

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