greeklish.org :: politics

A growing pervasiveness of information communications technology will enable states, terrorists or criminals, to mobilise "flashmobs", challenging security forces to match this potential agility coupled with an ability to concentrate forces quickly in a small area.

— Equality 7-2521 from Ayn Rand's book Anthem

" Every so often, I might read a whole lot on one particular subject and then, as quickly as my interest builds I shift to another topic. I am like this with Russian and Chinese history, reading a spate of books on one of these subjects over the course of weeks to months, then shifting back to the other, maybe picking up another unrelated interest in between and then returning back to Russian or Chinese history for a stretch. I am the same with comics, television, sports and .

I have never really looked for a pattern or a relationship to seasons or events in my life...

It's just something I have just come to accept. I am especially this way when it comes to music. I will often go for several weeks concentrating on work by one artist or another until my interest shifts to something else.

But as quickly as the tide rolls in, it rolls out again and I'm on to something else. For many, many years now, has been a recurring favorite in my listening rotation. About two or three times a year, I enjoy a steady diet of Rush material, from their earliest days through some of their more recent fare.

If I made a soundtrack for a movie about my life, there would certainly be a few Rush songs in there representing some of the better moments thus far. But as much as I have loved this music over the years, I have grown to have some reservations regarding the philosophy which apparently guides the band. Much of this has come in the last decade or so as I have grown older and more politically aware.

Since I am currently in the midst of my semiannual Rush fixation, I thought this might be as good of a time as any to reflect a little on my affection for the music and my thoughts on the politics behind the band. I am sure I don't have the time or patience to write a thorough exposition and analysis of the philosophical underpinnings of this rock and roll icon. I'm not up to writing an amateur dissertation here — I'm just waxing philosophical.

Think of it as "blogging out loud." The first Rush song I ever listened to — and I mean really listened to — was "Tom Sawyer." I'm sure that's probably true for a lot of people.

I was about 13 or 14 and I taped a bunch of songs off the radio, most of which were apparently rather forgettable. I think I might have been sick and I was home from school on a weekday. I listened to the tape at least once a day for a really long time and the only songs that I really recall from that particular mix were "Tom Sawyer" and "Break on Through" by The Doors (the latter song would lead to a fascination with the doors a short time later).

I mean, I am sure I had heard a lot of Rush before that particular day, but to have finally captured a song off the radio was kind of a big deal for me back then. I was really taken by the music itself ("prog rock" is what they call it, I guess) and the lyrics — the meaning of which were not really clear to me back then (and still aren't today) — were equally captivating. Eventually, I got around to buying " " on cassette and soon after, I got " " for $4.99 from the local K-Mart. In the spirit of full disclosure (and unnecessary detail), I will confess that my mom actually bought it for me and that I had promised to pay her back for it, but I never did and she seemed to forget about the debt after a relatively short time.

I guess I still owe her five bucks. Anyway, I still remember looking at the big owl on the cover of "Fly by Night" as I fiddled and fumbled with the removal of the long, plastic anti-theft casing. Whenever I bought tapes back then, I would usually spend about 20 minutes trying to pry the plastic casing off with a screwdriver before I realized that a wire-cutter would get the job done a lot faster.

"Fly by Night" was such a great album. It was years before I appreciated the grandeur of "By-Tor and the Snow Dog," (which happened after I finally listened to the live version on " " at the repeated urging of a coworker from one of my part-time jobs while I was in high school) but most of the other tracks made strong impressions on me almost immediately. I was already familiar with the title track from one of the local "album rock" (that's what they used to call "classic rock") stations and that was all well and good, but "Anthem" (more on the significance of the song's title later) and "In the End" were almost instant favorites of mine.

I remember playing "Anthem" for my dad on the way to school one morning and he was less than impressed. That's okay..

.I gues it's not exactly cool for your parents to like your music. Years later, I had Thomai over to my house on a date and I recall sitting in my room and playing "In the End" for her on my electric guitar. I played the soft part intro and then I stood on a chair and turned on the distortion to belt out the heavy part.

She was very impressed. She is, I think, the only person whom I have ever truly impressed with my guitar playing. I wonder if she still remembers that night.

.. And then there was " .

" This album changed everything in a big way. I don't remember exactly when I bought it, but I do clearly recall listening to it back when I was working a part-time job at a fast food restaurant, so I would have been 16 or so at the time. I was already familiar with lengthy, over-the-top masterpieces thanks to Led Zeppelin albums like " " and " .

" The fact that Zeppelin was able to fill an entire side of " " with just one song, a live version of "Dazed and Confused," had really impressed me. But the Rush song "2112" — lasting a full 20 minutes and 33 seconds and comprising the entire first side of that album — really blew my mind. Of course, this particular song was a story; a true epic tale for the ages.

Most people who are familiar with the album know the gist of story: A sterile and bland future world ruled by an authoritarian clique is rocked with controversy when a young man discovers a long-forgotten relic. The relic is a guitar which the man tunes and plays happily. In his excitement, he takes the guitar before the rulers and attempts to show them how the music from the guitar can change the world for the better.

The rulers dismiss the man and his discovery, and in doing so they dash his dreams for a happy life. Deciding that he cannot live in such a cruel heartless world, the man commits suicide. A planetary war ensues in which the rule of the clique is threatened and the final act, while somewhat ambiguous, leaves plenty of room for the listener's imagination to take it from there.

At 16 years old, much of the political overtones were lost on me. The theme of the rebellious spirit striking out against feelings of alienation and repression was understandably appealing to me as an angst-filled teenager. The music on the album was a fantastic range of heavy rock, ballad-like interludes and musical narratives.

Even these days, I still listen to "2112" quite often. In fact, "Soliloquy/Grand Finale" is still one of my favorite rock pieces of all time. My first copy of "2112" was a cassette and the older Rush tapes didn't include the full liner notes that were available on LP versions.

I don't have the old cassette version any more, but I am relatively certain that it didn't have any liner notes at all; just a shot of the main cover image and the track names. It wasn't until many years later that I picked up "2112" on LP from a second hand record store on High Street in Columbus. It was then that I held the full gatefold LP cover in my hands and read the words which had gained Rush so much notoriety from some and heaps of scorn and infamy from others: The full text of Lyubov Kosmodemyanskaya's book is now posted online.

The book is a biography of two Heroes of the Soviet Union, and her brother Alexander Kosmodemyansky (“Shura”), as written by their mother. This non-copyrighted book was originally published in 1953 by Foreign Languages Press (Moscow). All 286 pages of text and photos are now available through our website.

It's taken me quite a while — probably a bit too long — to transcribe the whole book and given the length of time involved, I wish that I could say that the transcription is flawless. I have spent quite a bit of time cleaning up typos and OCR in the text, but I am sure there are some minor errors here and there that will come to my attention as time goes on.

After the returns to , this text will also be added to the Archive's section.

One day Zoya and I were walking along the street, and on the wall of a house we noticed a big placard from which the determined face of a soldier looked at us severely. The keen piercing eyes were looking straight at us, the words printed underneath rang in our ears as if they had been spoken aloud in an urgent voice, "What have you done for the front?" "I can't pass that placard calmly," she said bitterly.

"But you are still young, and you have been to the labour front—that's also work for the country, for the Army." For some minutes we walked along in silence, and suddenly Zoya said in quite a different voice, cheerfully and with an air of finality, "I am lucky. Everything I want comes true.

" "What are you thinking about?" I wanted to ask, and did not. But my heart was heavy with foreboding.

On April 20 I found a letter in the letter box. Shura's field post office number was on the envelope, but the address was not in his handwriting. I stood holding the letter for a long time, afraid to unseal it.

Then I tore open the envelope and read the first lines. The room went dark before my eyes. I drew a deep breath, started reading again, and again could not read on.

Then I gritted my teeth as hard as I could and read to the end. "It is hard for me to write to you. But I beg you to summon all your courage and strength.

Your son, Senior Lieutenant of the Guards Alexander Anatolyevich Kosmodemyansky, died the death of a hero in battle with the German invaders. He gave up his young life for the freedom and independence of our Motherland. "I will say only one thing.

Your son is a hero, and you may be proud of him. He defended his Country honourably, and has proved himself worthy of his sister. "In the fighting for Königsberg on April 6, Alexander Kosmodemyansky's self-propelled gun mount was the first to force a canal thirty metres wide and open fire at the enemy, destroying an artillery battery, blowing up an ammunition dump and killing nearly sixty Hitlerite soldiers and officers.

"On April 8 he was the first to break into the fort of Konigin Luisen, where 350 prisoners were captured together with nine tanks in good condition, 200 lorries and a petrol dump. In the course of the fighting Alexander Kosmodernyansky was promoted from commander of a self-propelled gun mount to battery commander. In spite of his youth he commanded the battery successfully and carried out all battle tasks in exemplary fashion.

"He was killed yesterday in the fighting for the locality of Vierbrudenkrug, west of Königsberg, which was already in our hands. Your son was one of the first to break into Vierbrudenkrug, wiping out nearly forty Hitlerites and crushing four antitank guns. An exploding enemy shell cut short the life of our dear comrade, Alexander Anatolyevich Kosmodemyansky.

"War and death are inseparable, but it is so much more difficult to be reconciled with death on the eve our Victory. "Be courageous. With sincere respect and sympathy, "Lieutenant-Colonel of the Guards Legeza.

" I love to come here, to walk along the dear familiar corridors of my children's school, which now bears Zoya's name. I look into the classrooms. I go up onto the third floor and approach the doors where there is an inscription: "Heroes of the Soviet Union Zoya Kosmodemyanskaya and Shura Kosmodemyansky studied in this classroom.

" I enter this room, where the portraits of my children look down at me from the walls. There is the second desk in the middle row—Zoya used to sit there. Now another girl sits at this desk, and she has Zoya's clear eyes.

And there that desk at the back of the next row—that was Shura's place. The girl who sits there now looks up at me. She is wearing a brown frock with a white collar and black apron, and she has such a grave thoughtful face.

Here is a young woman with a kind, pleasant face coming down the corridor to meet me. She is Katya Andreyeva. She has done what she intended to do; she has become a schoolmistress teaching at her old school, the school where she studied together with Zoya and Shura.

My children's classmates are now engineers, doctors, teachers. They continue the work for the sake of which their comrades gave up their lives. I walk along the familiar corridor.

The door of the library is open. Shelf alter shelf along the walls is full of books, a great number of books. "Before the war we had twenty thousand volumes.

Now we have forty thousand," says Katya to me. I go outside. The school is surrounded with green trees.

There they are, the trees the children planted. And I seem to hear Zoya's voice: "My linden is the third one—remember, Mummy.