Let's drink out of grief. Where is the box?

In Russia they rarely drink to celebrate. Even, as you can see, young Pushkin, who had wonderful prospects for the future, talent and estate, sitting on this estate, drank with his beloved nanny precisely out of grief. So, journalist Igor Svinarenko (name Pig, also known as Khokhol), who has crest roots, and the child of two cultures, the gloomy German genius and the risky Russian “maybe” (here it is, the energy of Russian business!), the famous reformer of the Chaadaev type A.R. Koch (simply Alik) was no exception. They finished the fifteenth bottle from the box of vodka, which turned out to be Pandora's box (casket, case, man purse, little box) for them. And this came from there! Not even foam or green devils. From there, Russian history climbed from overripe stagnation to immature autocracy, bypassing the frost-bitten and moth-eaten ovary of democracy and liberalism. And where there is Russian history, there is sedition. Two intellectuals who did not even go to the front line made bad subjects. They don’t fit into a trench, that’s their problem. Not under Brezhnev, not under Gorbi, not under Yeltsin, not under Putin.