"Honor has long been out of favor."

Natalia is 49 years old. She is from a small village in Ryazan Oblast. She fears for her family and sees no point in heroism, which, she says, will lead to nothing. "Risk is a noble thing when it is justified." But she writes to our editorial board, understanding that even that can be dangerous.

- With deep respect for your channel. But there's one thing I don't understand. What's the point of throwing yourself into the fray? What's the point of going away? As Susik said in the comedy Trembit, soon it will be the same everywhere. Already. Isn't Europe oversaturated with immigrants? 

I recently hated the Soviets and the Bolsheviks. But I could learn a lot from them. How to get one's own people out of prison by bribing the guards, how to do underground work, how to cooperate with like-minded people all over the world. In today's self-immolation, I don't see any prospect. Everyone will be devoured without being choked. I write to you and make the same mistake. So are the lone picketers. Risk is a noble thing when it is justified. Fools may not know how to think, but they have learned how to survive.

I'm afraid. And that's okay. In general, I think that the cult of heroism, which has been so much cultivated over the years, is unnatural. Preserving one's own life, the life of one's little family, is as natural as the breath of the wind, the sound of the leaves, and the coming of spring.

Has life changed? Of course it has. Not financially. Because I have never been rich, smart, advanced, or successful. But during this year, my soul has aged a thousand years. When I turned off television central two years ago, I had little faith that a bunch of fools led by Chief Serpent's Claw would attack anyone there. Why? To wiggle their feathers and whisper merci to the side? 

But there is no limit to human stupidity. With cries not unlike those of wild tribes, the horde lashed out at the small and in their opinion, defenseless state. This cringe was beyond belief. The tears, the frenzy, the anger, the screaming, the hysteria in the arguments. And an absolute, moronic rejection of the truth. Stupidly spirited faces with the anthem. Victory will be ours.

Despair was replaced by anger, anger by hope. I saw occasional glimmers of doubt and silence instead of an answer when I made my arguments. But the herd instinct wins when the individual returns to his or her own kind. A vicious circle. Only the inner circle, like myself, understood the tragedy of what was happening. And the herd... It runs to the watering hole. Crocodiles are already waiting for them, in rivers that are shallow from the heat. But the herd knows, they will catch and eat the most desperate, foolish and eager to be the first to drink, the rest will survive. I don't want to think that they will be next. 

What has changed this year? Everything has changed. It's like when I was a kid, I fell off my bike and hit the pavement. Broken knees, scraped elbows, a bump on my forehead. But then I knew my mom would take pity and it would pass. And I would keep riding my bike, looking forward to the future. Now I know. There is no future, my homeland has no future anymore. And it's not just the chief of the Redskins who's guilty of this, it's his whole tribe. And I'm part of that tribe, too. Those who have come to scalp the brothers, aunts, friends, nephews, etc. of yesterday, I won't dare say it. My soul craves revenge, my soul is blackened. I hate. I hate my own people too. The wretches come out and kneel on the porch and protest, they know they protest, but still they stand. Something like this, not verbatim, once said Saltykov-Schedrin.

And the rest... I will risk everything when I understand that it will make sense and have a future for me and my homeland and family. And right now I see the fate of Kara-Murza, Yashin, Navalny, Masha Moskaleva and her father. And many others. Lesser known. But I know each one, bitterly. And, to the delight of fascism, they lay down their lives.

Somehow I realized that honor has long been out of favor.

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