What Shall We Do with Paranoid Megalomaniacs?
The technique is very well known to propaganda specialists from Marat to Goebbels to Zhdanov to Madison Avenue—keep repeating something often enough, and it becomes accepted as fact. Actually, several commentators on Nikita's LJ have already accepted his point of view that I am a sadist, evil, liar, filthy person, without morals. It is indeed most unappetizing for me to translate the multitude of epithets Nikita had used in my regard in Russian, when the only provocation was a statement I made regarding the fact that when music, any music, not only his, is badly played ad nauseam by nincompoops, it becomes third rate.
The issue here is very simple: Nikita's wife, an aspiring young guitarist named Anastasia Seliutina, took one statement I made on July 4th completely out of context and accused me on her own LJ that I have said that her husband's music is third rate. What I actually said is on line and you can read it for your self. As a loving husband, Nikita made a post on his own LJ in which he said that regarding what Matanya said about his music being third rate, he is not going to say anything.
Thus, without saying anything, he confirmed that he too thinks that I said that his music is third rate, an assertion he repeated several times and once again, today. And that's really too bad. With a team of two confused Russians not being able to understand what I said, my solution was to ban both of them from my LJ, thus preventing them from posting here, and preventing me from reading their LJs on my Friends list. Now that simple action was a major loss of face for them, and the campaign against me began in earnest.
This is really tiresome, and if it does not stop, I will have to take some mor stringent measures, all in the spirit of what Fishaleh Fishelson once taught me. Fishaleh was an Israeli painter who spent 17 years of his life in a Siberian labor camp for the sin of having had an argument on artistic matters with a fellow painter who was better connected with the KGB. What Fishaleh taught me was this:
На хитрию жопу—хуй с винтом.
Literally translated into English this makes little sense, but the essence of it is this: sneaky manipulative bastards eventually get what's coming to them. You keep this shit up, I am going to get really mad, at which point you will discover how skillful I am in solving your paranoid megalomania problems.