Published: Sat, 28 Dec 2024 13:15:34 -0800
A couple months ago I received an email from a reader of my old gemini capsule, let's call him Artem, as I'm unsure if he would like to be identified. I, now regretably, did not make a post saying anything about abandoning my capsule and he was wondering where I had ended up. He explained how he initially found my capsule, mentioning a few keywords that caught his eye: Russian language and culture, Linux, and communist politics. I've not had the chance to speak with a Russian who still resided in Russia, let alone one who shared many interests with me, and had a number of questions for him. The conversation kicked off from there. We've shared stories from our lives, separated by thousands of miles, years apart, now connected by electromagnetic waves and the ingenuity of our forefathers.
These interactions have reawakened a latent Russophilia that has been with me since high school. There's something about the unique character of the country and its people that fascinates me; a landmass bridging West and East, sharing characteristics of each, while maintaining its own bold identity, being made up of a smattering of nationalities and subcultures. Through my raging communist years, the songs of The Red Army Choir taught me how to connect with music on an emotional level, from the euphoric bellows of В путь, to the longing melancholy of сулико (Though the latter is Georgian in origin). Since my interactions with Artem, I again find myself putting on music from the other side of the Iron Curtain, but connecting in a stronger way, no longer tied to the desire of the music to hold any form of ideological rigidity, enjoying it as a reflection of the human experience. One song that has been particularly connecting with me through this dark Winter of mine has been тёмная ночь, as I trudge through each day knowing things will improve, surrounded by a vacuous steppe.
This connection has also stoked an inner conflict that has plagued me since first reading Industrial Society and Its Future: is technology good? In many ways it has isolated us from our communities and has made us servants to an ever-growing behemoth that strips us of our natural connection to the Earth. In many ways it allows us to connect with people we never would have crossed paths with otherwise and collate the wealth of humanity's wisdom and knowledge, accessible for all to see. Technology is simultaneously a slaver and a liberator. Although it was before my time, hearing hopeful descriptions of the wonders of the information super-highway from the 90s makes me dream of a better world, a world where this great leap forward of communication was used how it was intended. I dream of a world where the powers at be are laid bare by the masses, no longer able to contain the centuries of pent up subjugation. Yet I awake in a world where these tools have been used for control, wielded ever so craftily by the very people it threatened to destroy.
Through these communications with Artem, I have concluded one certainty: technology that serves to enable self-expression and technologies that serve to expand the range of what was once the domain of traditional letter-writing are wholly beneficial. Without it, I would have never had the guts to publish anything nor had the chance to meet this remarkable individual. If you have the chance please check out his website and his collections of quatrains, many of which are quite humorous:
Be warned for my fellow non-Russian-readers, software translators are not your friend for this language. You'll be far better off using https://en.openrussian.org or another dictionary of your liking.
I regularly check my email, If I don't respond quickly, send me a poke:
jasco.website@pm.me