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...In order to receive, Kashi, you have to give, and if you haven't learned that in your entire month of existence, this means that you have carried in vain this last generation TV they took our of your belly with a c-section, and Blackie's wisdom – after every last chance there is another last chance – is stupid wisdom, the formula is – after the worst there always comes something even worse, and after comprehending this truth you reassure yourself that being hungry and homeless is not the worst, there is the sadness of the wasted years when you swapped the printing housewithscrubbingfloors, there is the hat that you never take off – yet you can not hide under it because it is not an invisiblehatbut an idiot hat and let it roll with wind – there is this feeling of lack of sense and there is the loneliness you always feared more than waking up without a jam muffin and a place to live, if not next to the Presidency, than at least acrossthe disco in Studentski Grad, where there are more drug dealers then supermarketcashiers, but this is not the whole truth either, Kashi, first and foremost, in order to receive you have to give, in order to win, first you have to lose...
Something is wrong, that’s how it seemed to me at first, ‘cause I stay in my tiny room all night, just a row of tiles above, and I am watching the sky, and then in the janitor’s room throughout the day, so what if I got a wooden leg? It looks like a curse and a hoodoo to drag it ineffectively along the stairs, neither diving down, nor flying up, and luck will never come your way in this mayfly life, but gradually you start to comprehend and keep your fingers crossed that professors would hasten in discovering the medicine, which would approximate us to the eons of sea turtles. Yet eventually you realize that science has it all wrong and now you will exclaim – how simple it actually was! But do not forget the thirty years of gazing at the stars each and every night. One morning, when the sky grew lighter, I said to myself – since it cannot be this way, why not the other way!, and I felt my wooden leg extending into a sea turtle flipper. You know that the year is nothing but a rotation of the Earth around the Sun, or several million kilometers. If we move it away a little, for one round it will go, let’s say, twice as many kilometers. So, for one year we shall live twice as long. If we move it to go three times as much, we shall live thrice as long, and so on. Thus the likelihood of luck coming your way shall double, triple and so forth and I shall no longer drag my wooden leg along the stairs, I shall dive and I shall fly and I shall know that as long as you have the time to wait, luck is bound to come. You are asking me how we shall move the Earth. Not to worry, there should be at least one more like me in town, but capable of constructive thinking, all I have to do is hint him the idea. So many people are having it bitter all their life, dragging from the ground floor to the attic and back.
People live in peace and quiet, a gray and uniform life, safe and slumberous, proud of the happiness of the stuffed eagle and the resignation that nothing can ever be changed. The biggest rebels sit on the balcony, sip from their glass and watch the clouds to see when will someone release manna on their table so that they can have their dinner. And suddenly a revolution falls from the sky. It will blow peaceful serenity away, it will color grayness and will disturb the sleep of monotony. It will wake up the stuffed eagle and remind it that once it has flown over mountain peaks. But can you believe a revolution that falls from the sky?
”Maquillage” tells us how such a revolution is prepared, how it conquers all and leads to a future that might be fresher and brighter than today. The hope for something better is so strong that it makes you take part even in revolutions that fall from the sky.
In his book Emil Krastev attempts to describe the mechanisms of this type of change, who does it and how, and in the name of what. It has no barricades, shooting and bloodshed. No land attack missiles are being detonated and no buildings ever collapse. No children corpses roll on the streets. But you read how people stare in the mirror, it is as if they do nothing and yet you feel like bombs are falling all around you. The author achieves this by the means of the absurd and the grotesque. With his original voice he leads you along the paths of thought and it is hard to stop.