Monday, 25 February 2013

And Shoot Him in The Corridor...!

Vladimir Zhirinovsky is everybody's favourite clown. He has also now evolved from dangerous facist and enemy of the state into a deputy who can be relied on to support every one of Putin's whims. I guess it pays well.

Many years ago, he tabled a plan to dump nuclear waste on Russia's borders with the Baltic states, and then erect giant fans to blow the fallout towards neighbouring countries. I have to tell you, amongst Russians of a certain generation, this proposal went down rather well.

Now we have something new from Mad Vlad, and this one is a beauty.

Putin has just signed off a an anti-smoking bill that goes way beyond anything we have in the UK. Now this is not the most popular of moves, but when did Putin care what the people thought? Really though, the tobacco industry could have bought that one off the books easily enough. Interesting that they didn't.

(I remember Gorbacev's anti-alcohol laws - was it just coincidence that he owned a mineral water production line in the affected area!)

But for Zhironovsky this new legislation is not enough. It never is. He also wants restrictions on eating because paople are too fat (does he own a mirror, I wonder?) and on sex.

He feels that sexual activity should be restricted to one activity every three months, and that this should be controlled through the issueing of licences and coupons.

I sat and thought about this over a cup of coffee, and try as I may I cannot see how that is going to work, although I can clearly see some great financial opportunities for police officers and the issuers of licences and coupons!

I once had a bizarre encounter with a Russian police woman in a station in the back of beyond. It involved some paperwork relating to some property rights, and I had to be present to sign a piece of paper. This woman kept me waiting for 30 minutes while she chatted with another equally horrendous looking harridan. They both stank of vodka, and had little beards. The equally horrendous looking harridan reminded me a bit of Acker Bilk, only without the bowler hat.

After a while - because they alsways have to find something wrong - she announced that she wanted to put a stamp in my passport. Stamps in my passport have caused me enough trouble over the years, so I refused. We then entered into the inevitible negotiations.

She had a proposal: if I refused to have a police stamp in my passport, then for 200 rubles she would be willing to stamp a scrap of paper and I could keep it in my wallet.

We are talking about 4 quid, and I figured that it was worth it just for the entertaiment value alone. I was in a different world here, and it was worth seeing. I paid the 200 rubles and went on my merry way.

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