Book review, by readers, for readers ISBN 9780984377022
Reviewed by Paige Lovitt for Reader Views (10/11)
Today, Tyler R. Tichelaar of Reader Views is pleased to interview Vladimir A. Shvartsman who is here to talk about his new book “How to Paint Chickens and Other Stories.”
Vladimir was born and lived in the Far East part of Russia until his family, when he reached fifteen, moved to the western part of Russia. After earning MSEE from Jdanov University with a major in electronic engineering, he enrolled into Polytechnic University of St. Petersburg. Four years later, he gained MSBE in bio-medical cybernetics while working in the Academy of Russian Science, Nuclei Research Facilities studying a chemical protection against a nuclei poisoning. Mr. Shvartsman intensively experimented with telekinesis and defended his highest degree with the thesis “Studying electrical responses of a single neuron from a non-restrain animal.” Later on, he joined the Research Institute of High Nervous System for studying peculiar functions of a brain. In 1997, after settling in the USA, he took a position in U of L along with gaining an NIH grant for devising a parallel signal processor utilizing his invention (the neural-cell) for detecting the faint signal, called Bundle of His, from the body's surface on a beat-by-beat basis. Twenty publications and a dozen presentations helped advance the new idea to become, seven years later, the basis for the Neural Network branch of science.
In 1983, he founded a high-tech company to commercialize a new super-high resolution electrocardiograph (ECG). Winning several highly competitive SBIR grants provided funds for development various technologies. The progress did not last for long. A hired attorney embezzled company funds and a five-year long litigation for recovering stolen money killed the momentum.
During the last twenty years, he has published about one hundred scientific/technical papers, read a number of lectures, published seven books, and patented a dozen of his inventions. Since 1974, he has painted, having about 400-finished works on a display at his private art-gallery, VS Holding, LLC. A few exhibitions in Russia brought him no fame, but rather trouble from the government. That was one of the reasons encouraged him to immigrate.
Shvartsman started writing from 1994 after twelve years of marriage when his family fell apart, and writing was a single available way for releasing pain and frustrations. The first book of the series “The Fool,” is “Born under Dark Sun” and it was published in 2008. The second book, “Nibbling the Freedom,” was published in 2011. The third book, “Too Personal and Too Reviling” is in a finishing stage to be published at the end of 2012 and the fourth book, “It’s Easy Hating a White Man” will follow. Two more books, including paintings in full colors, were published in 2001 “Colors of the Truth” and “Colors of Life” after his art-exhibition in Frankfort, KY in 2008.
In 2004, he started writing, “Dirty Body could be washed off, but not a Dirtied Soul” which consists of three books. Two first books were published, “Dysfunctional Girl from a Dysfunctional Family” in 2010 and the second, “Jailed Jailbird” in 2011. Presently, he is working on the third book of that series, “Bleaching the Dirtied Soul.” A collection of stories from his life, “How to Paint Chickens and other stories” was published in 2011.
Presently, Shvartsman is running a small-high tech company. He continues painting, writing, publishing, and inventing.
Tyler: Welcome, Vladimir. I’m excited to have the opportunity to talk to you today. To begin, your subtitle for “How to Paint Chickens and Other Stories” is “The Way My Life Was and How It Is Now.” Does that mean that the short stories in the book are based on your own experiences in your life? Are any of them fiction or are they all non-fiction?
Vladimir: Hi, I feel fortunate sharing this interview with you and discussing what is so dear to me, the essence of life. It is my first access to the public at large on the communication of subjects other than technologies, science, and business. I really do appreciate your invitation. Let me answer your last question first. Only one story “Emigrant’s Nightmare” is a 100% fictional. The rest of them describe events that happened in my life and I was an active participant in them. The book included also a number of stories of philosophical nature, observations, discussion about Soul, Spirit, politics, and the theory of evolution. Probably the ad placed in “Rain Taxi” magazine in the “Fall 2011 printed edition” would describe the book context better:
The book is a collection of stories written during the past twenty years and is a glimpse into the spiritual world of a contemporary thinker. Living half of his life in Communistic Russia has expanded Shvartsman’s awareness of reality and helped him with the comprehension of modern day’s social transmutations. Stories convey his rich experience and thoughts about life, relationships, and politics. Endure as scientist, inventor, writer, and the head of small high-tech company he still finds a time and inspiration for working on a canvas. The author illustrated this and seven others books with reproductions of his remarkable, expressionistic paintings.
A short answer to your first question would be yes. All stories are reflections of events from my life that would characterize them as non-fictional. However, there is a little twist to that description. I wrote them years after events occurred. Since the time of the event, I became a little bit more mature, and obviously, an interpretation of it varied.
I wish to warn impatient readers looking for easy reading, such as a twisted drama or sexy romance, the book will be unlikely to bring you full satisfaction. You’ll make a right choice if you like feeding your brain with natural, no additive added thoughts. In any case, I would not be surprised receiving complaints from some readers, of such sort, “some sentences were difficult to comprehend” and “writings (English) desired to be better.” Here are facts and it is not an attempt of finding excuses and defend indefensible. During my schooling, I learned Russian (my native language) and German. In my wildest imagination, I couldn’t foresee me talking English. I’ve attended no English school and learned to read, speak and write on my own. You’re welcome to get in touch with me for any additional clarifications. In spite of someone’s opinion and saying of “uneducated” Russian, I’m compelled to tell about my life, observations and thoughts. You would have nothing to lose learning my opinion and much to gain.
Everyone has something to tell about life. The first fifty pages from a book written by a shepherd might give us enjoyment and serenity, but very few of us have a privilege living that kind of life. Life most of us live is a turbulent journey, like a roller-coaster ride. We recognized unfairness in many aspects of our lives, because we were rather seldom on the top of the ride. It is not easy remaining to be an optimist while located on the bottom. Sometimes we lose the battle against what seems to be dominating dark forces that were pushing us down. As the result of it, we are confronting life itself and concerning folks. In some ways, an agitated life might be considered as good news, counting many and different stories happened. That would provide plenty of material for writing not one but many books.
Tyler: How do you feel writing about your life and why would you write about it?
Vladimir: I live an unperturbed life and don’t see a chance of becoming a person of interest to historians or biographers. Writing about my life was a single option not to vanish in dust. On many occasions, I characterized my life as a chain of mistakes. Reading about lives of the successful and famous, an unsettling question was always bumping in my head. How is it possible? Consider so much work already accomplished, I’m still struggling. It is probably true that the best were able to improve their lives learning from other people’s mistakes when lesser successful folks kept recycling their own. Reading about other people’s mistakes makes it the best book to read.
Tyler: I’m intrigued by the title story. Will you tell us why a person would want to paint chickens?
Vladimir: Coming out with a snappy title and so with a respectful kid’s name is a diligent obligation of us who gave them existence. I remember days my wife and I spent on naming our son Andrew and how many thoughts I gave for the title of another of my books “The Fool.” I even wrote a full chapter describing that struggle. It was an easy task. I spent no time for creating the title “How to Paint Chickens.” This title is a description of the event and realistically is what I did while I protected my chickens. Please imagine forty families living in multi-apartment building, each owning a dozen or more chickens. Chickens live in small sheds spaced about five-foot of land and separated by six-foot tall fence. That is not all, every one chicken is white and all of them can fly over fences in search of food. How would you identify your chickens among 500 alike? There was not much crime reported in the city. I don’t remember a case of a stolen chicken, but a family would lose rights, on a running-around-chicken, if they could not positively identify it.
Usually placing several different color strips around chicken legs works well. Each family owned a unique combination and this is how peace among neighbors was maintained. It was a good system but not without drawbacks. Those strips must be checked out at least weekly. For a nine-year old boy, it was too much work especially during a summer break. I was looking for a better, maintenance-free way for indentifying our chickens. Painting came to my mind.
Writing above, I started thinking that a decision to paint chickens, and support my parents provided to me, helped me choose painting in my twenties when I was looking for a media for reflecting my thoughts. If a concern about losing chickens were not more important on the minds of my parents, then my life would be different, less creative.
Tyler: Vladimir, I understand you are an inventor and a scientist, and we often think the sciences are almost the opposite of the humanities, so what about writing appeals to you and what made you decide to write a short story collection?
Vladimir: That is a rather appalling statement. I’m sure there exist a small number of “evil” scientists and most likely, there are a much larger number of malicious-minded people of others professions in the world. I’ve worked with scientists in both countries and the majority of them were hard working, life loving and humanitarian individuals. Money and power could corrupt the best of us. It is said watching how intelligence is wasted on satisfying its own greed. In my book, “Nibbling the Freedom” I described one of such cases.
I would love to answer your question with a story that I learned a long time ago. Here it is, the way I’m recollecting it now.
A peaceful and prosperous secluded region would be envious to anyone
living in the country, if no terrifying tradition drowns them away.
Once a month, a local governor called for a barber who would never go
back to his family alive. A winning “honorable” lottery became a
funeral procession for the unlucky family of barber Smith. When he
arrived, he was taken straight to the governor. Smith dropped on his
knees and crying begged for his life, citing his large family that
would be left unfed if he would vanish. In a rare moment of compassion,
the governor offered him a deal. Very few people knew that Governor
was embarrassed having long ears, like a donkey. He said, “I let you
and your family live as long as no one else learned about this” and he
pointed towards his hanging ears. Smith did an excellent job. Governor
appointed him as a permanent barber and let him go with a full bag of
gold. Smith’s family was ecstatic and his life should be as well, but
the secret couldn’t let him sleep or eat. Being close to death, he
decided to visit a wise man and asked for his advice. There were a few
options left to him personally. He would die by telling the truth and if
he wouldn’t. The man told him to go in the middle of an open field,
dig a hole, and yelp three times his secret into the hole, and so he
did. It was a miracle indeed. Since that moment, the Smith family lives
prosperous, but that suddenly ended and rather soon.
One night, Governor’s guards broke into his house and dragged him to the palace.
“How dare you spread my secret?” Governor screamed at him. “I ordered
my guards to bring your family and will kill them one by one in front
of you. Now we will see how long you live with such guilt?”
Smith plead, “Kill me first! I kept my words and told no human your secret.”
“You’re a liar!” and turning his head towards his guards
and requested bringing a “witness.” When the witness appeared, Governor
requested explanations how he heard the story about his ears. “Tell us
the truth and only truth; otherwise you will be punished the same way
as this liar,” and he pointed to the barber.
“I’m a traveler, going from one village to other
entertaining folks. That day, I had a long journey and was glad
noticing a tree in the middle of a grass field. I thought it would be a
good place, under a shade of that tree, for having lunch. Not having
much to do, I cut a branch off that tree and made a flute.” He took a
break and started breathing heavily. A few seconds later, he shouted
out, “To my surprise, instead of sounds, the flute whispered, ‘Governor
has a donkey’s ears.’ It did it every time I blew air into it. Would
you like to hear it?”
Silence hung again. Guards drew swords half way out ready
for defending Governor’s honor. It was a daring moment for all,
including guardsmen, in the chamber. All of them would have died for
the secret to remain a secret. Governor had a long life behind his
shoulder and knew that the moment of truth knocked. Making no moves,
guardsmen could’ve misinterpret his wish, he said. “From now on, we let
people know about my ears. I see that even Earth could not keep the
secret. I can’t kill Earth.” Since that event, the village and Governor
lived in peace and prosperity. Keeping something in secret is a heavy
burden and demanding responsibility. Only a trained professional would
say nothing. But for how long?
Having a release-valve is important for functioning normally in our stressful life. In my life it has been painting, writing, and creating new technologies. There are many reasons why people were telling about their private lives. We possess a compelling desire for sharing feelings and spreading gained knowledge. A journalist would write a story about someone else’s secret and a writer writes about his own. We are social animals. When we’re lonely and outcast, we are weak but creative. Rather often, we are trading down our intelligence and individuality on belonging to a mob. I can explain a lot but have difficulty comprehending why some humans would exchange personal freedom and become an insignificant cell of a crowd, a part of a ferocious beast.
In “Born under the Dark Sun,” I wrote, “I had no friends with enough time to listen to my story patiently. Either, I had no dog or gained a habit of visiting a bar where I could have found a stranger’s sympathy to ease my pain and defuse the mind-blowing tension. There was no other option by which to share my story, so I’ve turned to my faultless friend—the computer. I knew it would withstand any of my verbal abuse. It would not complain about being awakened during the middle of the night, running for a week without rest, and hearing repeatedly the same sentence until it came out sensibly.”
Here is more from the same book, “The pain induced by the destruction of my family was so strong that writing was the only way to save my sanity. At the end of my third year of continuous work, a story of about two thousand pages long was almost completed. The writings might have explained some of the events that happened with my family and life; However, I in no way agreed with the fairness of neither the events nor their outcomes.
Everyone’s life is worth writing a book about. I think it is sad that most of us do not have time or energy to invest several years of hard work into such a project. At first, I was writing about myself, but slowly about subjects concerning all of us. I would consider it a significant accomplishment and privilege if you, as I do, feel that I had written not only about my life but also about yours as well. It is a story about all of us who are not giving up, and who are carrying our souls high, despite the faithlessness of the world we live in.
Tyler: What are some of the titles and themes of the other stories in the book?
Vladimir: The book is a collection of twenty-seven stories written in different times, on different occasions, and subjects. A few stories were originally published in my other books, but I wasn’t satisfied with them. Some didn’t include important information and had paragraphs that weren’t written well. After re-writing and expanding the context of those stories, I included them in “How to Paint Chickens and other stories.”
They were written during the last fifteen years and collecting dust among others, waiting for the occasion to be published. The book would be too large for all stories, and I am sure, the chosen stories were cheered up, learning of gaining a chance to see light.
“The place to exercise the human essence” was about the living condition and social environment regular folks had in the Soviet Union in the 50’s and 60’s. It was time of my childhood, living with Nature as close as one of modern times had. All my free time I spent in the forest staying busy with collecting wild berries and mushrooms, hunting wild rabbits, geese and ducks, also fishing in a fast running crystal-clear river. In reality, kids of my age and I had little time for leisure. Summer lasted only three months and the rest it was a brutally cold winter. During the springtime, we helped our parents to plant potatoes, carrots and seeds of sunflowers, and the fall was busy with collecting the harvest. In total, we had a couple of months for summer fun or whatever was left out of it. Because on kids’ shoulders were responsibilities of watching after livestock, about two weeks were spent at a summer camp and having a chance of wrestling a wild bear cub. It would tolerate just anything but being defeated. My son never tired of listening to those stories and I thought they might be entertaining for other kids to hear.
The second story on the Contents list was borrowed from a not yet published book, “Too Personal and Too Reviling” a third books from the series “The Fool.” It is about modern-day living and consists of various thoughts about the life of a married man and of politico-philosophical natures. “Arnold Schwarzenegger turned out to be a confused individual who ended up choosing the wrong political affiliation. He would’ve achieved much more as a left-leaning Democrat. I think he has difficulty taking bribes, which is one of the major qualifications of politicians. He is too honest for politics and not as flexible in life for diplomacy. I wish he would go back to acting and leave politics to politicians.”
About investing of too much time in gyms. “Most of us, including myself, want to live longer, but exchanging a hundred hours of full energy life on one hour in a hospital, while someone changes my dirty underwear, is just a ridiculous proposition.”
It is about personal nature, “Our frequent arguments, hardly consisting of anything important, were getting more antagonistic. The most depressing part of it was that they never ended with a make-up sex. It was obvious she had become tired of our relationship. There was no other explanation for her determined desire to join the gym, besides that she had decided to put her body on the market again.”
Even more, about the spiritual, “I refuse to believe, and it is an insulting thought, that once our hearts stop working, all of us turn into a pile of perishing biological cells. I’m sure there is something else that will remain after my death and that must be my soul. My soul is my pathway to God and to a new me. Thinking about Hell and Heaven, they are here with us, while we’re alive. We’re creating Hell by dirtying our souls while doing bad deeds. Punishments (Hell) and rewards (Heaven) originated and remain in our soul-based biological life form. A dirtied soul makes murky the pathway and hazes over the life purpose. Bad deeds from within get the soul dirtier. That is the consequence of any crime.”
“Emigration’s nightmare” is a fictional story about a family that were about to leave their motherland. They arrived much earlier to a strange city located on the border. There was nothing much to do and the mother with her son took a short journey to a local shopping mall. The time could not be more dreadful. The story, mostly about the boy who got separated and not knowing where he was going, found himself at a meeting of a local bunch of hooligans. When soldiers appeared to disperse the crowd, everyone had run away but the boy. A hat with large red ribbons was mounted on his head at the meeting and was impressive. He forgot to remove it. An officer ordered to fire. Lying in the dirt, fatally wounded, the boy tried to comprehend the situation. The last paragraph ended the following way. “Something fell from my head. It was my skullcap. How did it happen that I had forgotten to take the cap with the big red ribbon off my head? I gathered my last bit of energy, intending for rectifying the situation, but muscles would not obey my orders. The soldiers should have known that it was not my skullcap. It was a big misunderstanding. I was glad my brain is working fine. I will rest and talk with the officer. I will keep my train tickets and when I'll get home, I'll frame them. They are so important in my life. It is so peaceful and quiet now. Nothing bad will happen to me anymore. I’m getting better and my pain has gone. At last, I am free.”
“General understanding of life” is a philosophical journey about life, politics and responsibilities. Here is sample of it. “We are born with energy and health, most of which will be wasted on unimportant and useless pursuits. Mostly we have no clue what to do with our precious time, and so we simply make an effort to stay busy. Many of us believe that we are entitled for much more than we received, and so, at some point in our lives, we become angry and upset that promotions, wealth, hangouts, health, presents, beauty, and privileges are divided unfairly among us. At the culmination of our disappointment, we begin to look for righteousness. Sometimes we take matters into our own hands and become like Robin Hood, Don Quixote, or just an ordinary thief. In the search of absolute rightness, or at least fairness, we will find a way to justify our actions so that they can be, at best, morally ambiguous, and, at worst, horrifyingly evil. Sometimes we lose hope that we will ever find justice among the living, and we turn our search to what is beyond this world. Sometimes, fairness becomes a code word for taking from one and giving to others, forgetting that it was unfair to take forcefully in the first place. There is something even worse. During all righteous deeds, we take control of people’s lives and take fortunes into our own hands. We started pretending to be God.”
Divorce has changed my life in many ways and having only one vacation during last fifteen years is just an example. During marriage, we had three vacations each year. Kind of suddenly, my son expressed his concern about me working without a break and offered his companionship. I gave up and went on vacation with him. A dozen stories I wrote during that time and a few of them included in the book. Among them, “On the way to Jamaica’s beaches,” “To be or not to be an explorer,” and “A day with my son in paradise.” It was a wonderful time and this paragraph reflects it, “An old expression goes. “You’re raising a girl for yourself and a boy for his wife.” Well, it is probably true. However, can you ask your daughter to bring a drink and especially when a bartender is a good looking and lighthearted fellow? Silly me, I almost neglected to record the most important reason for having a son. I do not want my last name to become historical dust and who if not my son will carry it on proudly without effort.”
Tyler: Vladimir, I understand you are an inventor and a scientist, and we often think the sciences are almost the opposite of the humanities, so what about writing appeals to you and what made you decide to write a short story collection?
Vladimir: That is a rather appalling statement. I’m sure there exist a small number of “evil” scientists and most likely, there are a much larger number of malicious-minded people of others professions in the world. I’ve worked with scientists in both countries and the majority of them were hard working, life loving and humanitarian individuals. Money and power could corrupt the best of us. It is said watching how intelligence is wasted on satisfying its own greed. In my book, “Nibbling the Freedom” I described one of such cases.
I would love to answer your question with a story that I learned a long time ago. Here it is, the way I’m recollecting it now.
A peaceful and prosperous secluded region would be envious to anyone
living in the country, if no terrifying tradition drowns them away.
Once a month, a local governor called for a barber who would never go
back to his family alive. A winning “honorable” lottery became a
funeral procession for the unlucky family of barber Smith. When he
arrived, he was taken straight to the governor. Smith dropped on his
knees and crying begged for his life, citing his large family that
would be left unfed if he would vanish. In a rare moment of compassion,
the governor offered him a deal. Very few people knew that Governor
was embarrassed having long ears, like a donkey. He said, “I let you
and your family live as long as no one else learned about this” and he
pointed towards his hanging ears. Smith did an excellent job. Governor
appointed him as a permanent barber and let him go with a full bag of
gold. Smith’s family was ecstatic and his life should be as well, but
the secret couldn’t let him sleep or eat. Being close to death, he
decided to visit a wise man and asked for his advice. There were a few
options left to him personally. He would die by telling the truth and if
he wouldn’t. The man told him to go in the middle of an open field,
dig a hole, and yelp three times his secret into the hole, and so he
did. It was a miracle indeed. Since that moment, the Smith family lives
prosperous, but that suddenly ended and rather soon.
One night, Governor’s guards broke into his house and dragged him to the palace.
“How dare you spread my secret?” Governor screamed at him. “I ordered
my guards to bring your family and will kill them one by one in front
of you. Now we will see how long you live with such guilt?”
Smith plead, “Kill me first! I kept my words and told no human your secret.”
“You’re a liar!” and turning his head towards his guards
and requested bringing a “witness.” When the witness appeared, Governor
requested explanations how he heard the story about his ears. “Tell us
the truth and only truth; otherwise you will be punished the same way
as this liar,” and he pointed to the barber.
“I’m a traveler, going from one village to other
entertaining folks. That day, I had a long journey and was glad
noticing a tree in the middle of a grass field. I thought it would be a
good place, under a shade of that tree, for having lunch. Not having
much to do, I cut a branch off that tree and made a flute.” He took a
break and started breathing heavily. A few seconds later, he shouted
out, “To my surprise, instead of sounds, the flute whispered, ‘Governor
has a donkey’s ears.’ It did it every time I blew air into it. Would
you like to hear it?”
Silence hung again. Guards drew swords half way out ready
for defending Governor’s honor. It was a daring moment for all,
including guardsmen, in the chamber. All of them would have died for
the secret to remain a secret. Governor had a long life behind his
shoulder and knew that the moment of truth knocked. Making no moves,
guardsmen could’ve misinterpret his wish, he said. “From now on, we let
people know about my ears. I see that even Earth could not keep the
secret. I can’t kill Earth.” Since that event, the village and Governor
lived in peace and prosperity. Keeping something in secret is a heavy
burden and demanding responsibility. Only a trained professional would
say nothing. But for how long?
Having a release-valve is important for functioning normally in our stressful life. In my life it has been painting, writing, and creating new technologies. There are many reasons why people were telling about their private lives. We possess a compelling desire for sharing feelings and spreading gained knowledge. A journalist would write a story about someone else’s secret and a writer writes about his own. We are social animals. When we’re lonely and outcast, we are weak but creative. Rather often, we are trading down our intelligence and individuality on belonging to a mob. I can explain a lot but have difficulty comprehending why some humans would exchange personal freedom and become an insignificant cell of a crowd, a part of a ferocious beast.
In “Born under the Dark Sun,” I wrote, “I had no friends with enough time to listen to my story patiently. Either, I had no dog or gained a habit of visiting a bar where I could have found a stranger’s sympathy to ease my pain and defuse the mind-blowing tension. There was no other option by which to share my story, so I’ve turned to my faultless friend—the computer. I knew it would withstand any of my verbal abuse. It would not complain about being awakened during the middle of the night, running for a week without rest, and hearing repeatedly the same sentence until it came out sensibly.”
Here is more from the same book, “The pain induced by the destruction of my family was so strong that writing was the only way to save my sanity. At the end of my third year of continuous work, a story of about two thousand pages long was almost completed. The writings might have explained some of the events that happened with my family and life; However, I in no way agreed with the fairness of neither the events nor their outcomes.
Everyone’s life is worth writing a book about. I think it is sad that most of us do not have time or energy to invest several years of hard work into such a project. At first, I was writing about myself, but slowly about subjects concerning all of us. I would consider it a significant accomplishment and privilege if you, as I do, feel that I had written not only about my life but also about yours as well. It is a story about all of us who are not giving up, and who are carrying our souls high, despite the faithlessness of the world we live in.
Tyler: What are some of the titles and themes of the other stories in the book?
Vladimir: The book is a collection of twenty-seven stories written in different times, on different occasions, and subjects. A few stories were originally published in my other books, but I wasn’t satisfied with them. Some didn’t include important information and had paragraphs that weren’t written well. After re-writing and expanding the context of those stories, I included them in “How to Paint Chickens and other stories.”
They were written during the last fifteen years and collecting dust among others, waiting for the occasion to be published. The book would be too large for all stories, and I am sure, the chosen stories were cheered up, learning of gaining a chance to see light.
“The place to exercise the human essence” was about the living condition and social environment regular folks had in the Soviet Union in the 50’s and 60’s. It was time of my childhood, living with Nature as close as one of modern times had. All my free time I spent in the forest staying busy with collecting wild berries and mushrooms, hunting wild rabbits, geese and ducks, also fishing in a fast running crystal-clear river. In reality, kids of my age and I had little time for leisure. Summer lasted only three months and the rest it was a brutally cold winter. During the springtime, we helped our parents to plant potatoes, carrots and seeds of sunflowers, and the fall was busy with collecting the harvest. In total, we had a couple of months for summer fun or whatever was left out of it. Because on kids’ shoulders were responsibilities of watching after livestock, about two weeks were spent at a summer camp and having a chance of wrestling a wild bear cub. It would tolerate just anything but being defeated. My son never tired of listening to those stories and I thought they might be entertaining for other kids to hear.
The second story on the Contents list was borrowed from a not yet published book, “Too Personal and Too Reviling” a third books from the series “The Fool.” It is about modern-day living and consists of various thoughts about the life of a married man and of politico-philosophical natures. “Arnold Schwarzenegger turned out to be a confused individual who ended up choosing the wrong political affiliation. He would’ve achieved much more as a left-leaning Democrat. I think he has difficulty taking bribes, which is one of the major qualifications of politicians. He is too honest for politics and not as flexible in life for diplomacy. I wish he would go back to acting and leave politics to politicians.”
About investing of too much time in gyms. “Most of us, including myself, want to live longer, but exchanging a hundred hours of full energy life on one hour in a hospital, while someone changes my dirty underwear, is just a ridiculous proposition.”
It is about personal nature, “Our frequent arguments, hardly consisting of anything important, were getting more antagonistic. The most depressing part of it was that they never ended with a make-up sex. It was obvious she had become tired of our relationship. There was no other explanation for her determined desire to join the gym, besides that she had decided to put her body on the market again.”
Even more, about the spiritual, “I refuse to believe, and it is an insulting thought, that once our hearts stop working, all of us turn into a pile of perishing biological cells. I’m sure there is something else that will remain after my death and that must be my soul. My soul is my pathway to God and to a new me. Thinking about Hell and Heaven, they are here with us, while we’re alive. We’re creating Hell by dirtying our souls while doing bad deeds. Punishments (Hell) and rewards (Heaven) originated and remain in our soul-based biological life form. A dirtied soul makes murky the pathway and hazes over the life purpose. Bad deeds from within get the soul dirtier. That is the consequence of any crime.”
“Emigration’s nightmare” is a fictional story about a family that were about to leave their motherland. They arrived much earlier to a strange city located on the border. There was nothing much to do and the mother with her son took a short journey to a local shopping mall. The time could not be more dreadful. The story, mostly about the boy who got separated and not knowing where he was going, found himself at a meeting of a local bunch of hooligans. When soldiers appeared to disperse the crowd, everyone had run away but the boy. A hat with large red ribbons was mounted on his head at the meeting and was impressive. He forgot to remove it. An officer ordered to fire. Lying in the dirt, fatally wounded, the boy tried to comprehend the situation. The last paragraph ended the following way. “Something fell from my head. It was my skullcap. How did it happen that I had forgotten to take the cap with the big red ribbon off my head? I gathered my last bit of energy, intending for rectifying the situation, but muscles would not obey my orders. The soldiers should have known that it was not my skullcap. It was a big misunderstanding. I was glad my brain is working fine. I will rest and talk with the officer. I will keep my train tickets and when I'll get home, I'll frame them. They are so important in my life. It is so peaceful and quiet now. Nothing bad will happen to me anymore. I’m getting better and my pain has gone. At last, I am free.”
“General understanding of life” is a philosophical journey about life, politics and responsibilities. Here is sample of it. “We are born with energy and health, most of which will be wasted on unimportant and useless pursuits. Mostly we have no clue what to do with our precious time, and so we simply make an effort to stay busy. Many of us believe that we are entitled for much more than we received, and so, at some point in our lives, we become angry and upset that promotions, wealth, hangouts, health, presents, beauty, and privileges are divided unfairly among us. At the culmination of our disappointment, we begin to look for righteousness. Sometimes we take matters into our own hands and become like Robin Hood, Don Quixote, or just an ordinary thief. In the search of absolute rightness, or at least fairness, we will find a way to justify our actions so that they can be, at best, morally ambiguous, and, at worst, horrifyingly evil. Sometimes we lose hope that we will ever find justice among the living, and we turn our search to what is beyond this world. Sometimes, fairness becomes a code word for taking from one and giving to others, forgetting that it was unfair to take forcefully in the first place. There is something even worse. During all righteous deeds, we take control of people’s lives and take fortunes into our own hands. We started pretending to be God.”
Divorce has changed my life in many ways and having only one vacation during last fifteen years is just an example. During marriage, we had three vacations each year. Kind of suddenly, my son expressed his concern about me working without a break and offered his companionship. I gave up and went on vacation with him. A dozen stories I wrote during that time and a few of them included in the book. Among them, “On the way to Jamaica’s beaches,” “To be or not to be an explorer,” and “A day with my son in paradise.” It was a wonderful time and this paragraph reflects it, “An old expression goes. “You’re raising a girl for yourself and a boy for his wife.” Well, it is probably true. However, can you ask your daughter to bring a drink and especially when a bartender is a good looking and lighthearted fellow? Silly me, I almost neglected to record the most important reason for having a son. I do not want my last name to become historical dust and who if not my son will carry it on proudly without effort.”
“The way we live now and the great food chain” The technological advancements have changed us, and most likely, we are advancing even more toward reducing non-voluntary physical activities at work, at home and at play. There are a number of additional forces swindling kids’ minds in wrong directions, and further proliferation of video games will decrease their effort to satisfy a hunger for fun by being creative. I felt sorry for my son, observing him dedicatedly playing video games. During those moments, I wished games had never become commercially available. A video game is a pleasurable way to kill an allotted time for an opportunity and advancement.
“A “thank-you” letter from a Jew-hater” There were many reasons behind my decision to choose the United States over other countries. Most significant among them, I was under the impression, after reading a few books, that anti-Semitism might be present, but wasn’t as visible as in other countries. Upon arrival in 1997, I found a few government regulations and worked as much as I wished. In general, I was satisfied and until 2009, there have been only a few anti-Semitic outbursts and all of them were mild. They were like minor nuisances, and I did not worry much and ignored them. Some people must be equipped with a pressure release valve helping them to remain civil. Without having a chance to blow up once in awhile, internal dissatisfaction could really push them to explode and that would increase a chance for social unrest. It is a well-known fact that having a few Jews around is very useful for keeping down anti-government sentiments.
“A short conversation with a prostitute” I told her that only a few, the best and luckiest women were able to f**k themselves out of poverty while offering her my friendship, but she was young, and could care less about having a stable relationship. Her life was an endless chain of emergencies and money shortfalls. She did not worry much and told me as long as she could spread her legs she would be able to solve any problem. She preferred to date indiscriminately as long as there was money at the end of an accord. That was her way of being independent.
“Nerdish thoughts about geeks and politics” We have a tendency of using words for much broader applications than they were originally intended. This is especially true, when certain words or lingo become popular. It happens when the media alters the original meanings of the word. I would like to bring one such word to your attention: nerd. By definition, it is a stupid, irritating, ineffectual, or unattractive person or, an intelligent but single-minded person obsessed with a nonsocial hobby or pursuit. I do not know how much you like such definitions, but honestly, I am insulted. Do you really think a person who loves working and playing with a computer was obsessed with a nonsocial hobby and should be deemed unintelligent or worse? The disrespectful treatment of an intellectual is a sad sign of social degradation. It is especially bad because Hollywood quite often makes a fun of those who love and move technological progress.
Is it possible that our society will change in such a way that females prefer a nerd to a stud? Thank God, there was no Hollywood in Russia at the time I was growing up. There was no such ridicule directed toward the most intelligent kids. I was slightly above an average student. In no way would I have been considered as a nerd. However, here in America, since I spent more time with books than the average boy did, I am sure there would be some occasions when that insult would have been thrown in my way. If I had grown up here, my childhood would have been more miserable than it was, but for different reasons. A child’s world is not compassionate and is a rather cruel battle to be the “coolest.” Nevertheless, movies, music, and a host of other influences encouraged some of my schoolmates to come out with a dozen additional names to make fun of me.
Sometimes I imagine what would happen with society if women directed their affections and their choices in selecting mates towards a male with characteristics of nerds. How much more society would have gained if muscle-big and brain-small males were the butt of jokes, instead of nerds.
“Various thoughts—how different are we?” My adjustment to American culture was not simple. The language has been the most difficult obstacles to overcome. I know what it means to be a minority. Some looked at me with sympathy and others with hatred. My reactions to both those judgments are the same—it is very degrading and insulting. The worst part of it was that I wasn’t capable of, or in some cases was not allowed to, stand up and defend myself. I could’ve hired an attorney for defending me or learn on my own, and that requires getting educated. Gaining knowledge wasn’t an easy task. Visiting classes can be done only after my work but I felt completely exhausted. Self-schooling was my single option and I did not give up. I remember feeling proud of myself for extending my vocabulary by a few more words. My satisfaction climbed even higher once I gained a chance using those words during conversations. I told myself, “From now on, you are not a minority anymore.”
“Male-secretary”
I had a nightmare, on the following morning, after my recently hired
secretary decided to quit. I was busy with writing several proposals,
which would provide much-needed funds for the development of medical
devices, when quite unexpectedly, my ex-secretary got married and moved
with her husband to Dakota. It was devastating. I felt as if someone
had shot me in my legs, leaving me handicapped. I was fortune to hire
replacement rather fast. A new secretary was perfect, probably even
better than that one which just left. Beside an excellent knowledge of
English and high typing speed, his morning coffee was just great. Yes,
it is correct. My new secretary was a man. I took the nightmare as a
sign and wrote all how that happened. Here is a paragraph out of it:
“A few moments later, I needed a document from the front file cabinet and not wanting to disturb him went to get it. I bent over in order to withdraw it from the lowest compartment. Suddenly, the feeling of a heavy beam sliding down my body and stopping on my ass appalled me. I had never had any similar awareness. It was like a piece of ice sliding all over my body while I was half-awaked. It was almost like a raw animal sensation, as if I was in an unfriendly cave, not having clothes to protect my naked body. I was captured and tied to a poll while unconscious. It happened after the fight with our rival wasn’t successful for our tribe. Everyone was killed and I was left alive with a non-life threatening bump on my head, standing in front of strangers. The fight started while disputing females' ownership. There was a general shortage of females in the region because they were dying too early. Now, a group of cavemen wanted a reward. To their disappointment, most of the females were killed during the fight. We were proud of our women. Our women knew how to fight and were all of the time shoulder to shoulder, but we were overwhelmed and outnumbered. Now, they see me as their prize, as a war trophy for risking their lives.”
“Socialistic residuals” Significant changes occurred in the Soviet Block after I left Russia. Most likely, I still would live there. Firstly, being excited by observing and most likely participating in the Communist Party declining. Shortly, many things changed again and I felt sorrow and terrified with what became of the country and folks. Settling in the USA made me an observer. New responsibilities left not much time for wondering about Soviet Union transformations. Several technicians from Ukraine worked in my company and they kept me informed on ongoing struggles and tragedy. “Life was not easy in Ukraine. It was difficult finding a job due to unemployment of about 30 percent. Even having a job would not guarantee bringing home a salary. The Soviet Union’s demise brought sixteen countries, Ukraine among them, into despair. Each country went through the turmoil of political and economical uncertainty. Overnight, ex-members of the Communist Party became wealthy entrepreneurs. They never cared for people before and now their ugly and greedy nature has showed its true face. After they ran a privatization scheme, they would split profits among themselves by dismantling factories and selling all machinery as scrap metal. People lost a place to work and a way to make an honest living.”Later, I took a trip to Poland. I watched there what has become a norm in falling socialistic countries. Here is a paragraph from the same story. “I liked to take a walk and on the streets of Warsaw, which provided plenty of sights. A common picture, a begging woman holding a sleeping baby in her arms, occupied my attention. I was intrigued by how a baby could sleep during the middle of the day. I left the scene but came back three hours later. The baby was still asleep. I approached to take a closer look. Was the baby sleeping, or was it just pretending? I did not want to raise any suspicion and dropped a coin into the collecting pot. I did not have much time for an investigation, but it appeared to me the baby was asleep indeed. I had often argued with my son to get him to bed by ten at night. Getting him to sleep during the day would have been an impossible task. The baby looked healthy. I think the only way the baby would sleep during daytime was if it were deadly tired of playing games, drugged, or ill. It was too young for work in a sweatshop during the nighttime. What else could have made the baby so tired?”
“What else’s in front of us?”“I see us divided even more in the future. A war, as it is depicted in science fiction books, would be the way of our life. It is unavoidable unless we’ll change our attitude toward ourselves and technology, and all of us start working hard to love each other, with devotion, appreciation to other people’s contributions, and respect and support desires for improvements. We are developing technology and gaining new knowledge too quickly. We are not morally or ethically ready for the pace of its development. We are not wise or intelligent enough yet to escape harming ourselves unintentionally. Nuclear or biological warfare, gene manipulation, or inexpensive but super-powerful computers may become the toys of mentally unstable maniacs, from what we presently know. I cannot estimate which is the graver risk, but I see either of these as a grave obstacle to the survival of the human race.”
“Evolution, natural selection, and humans”
A fierce debate continues between evolutionists, creationists, and
people believing in intelligent design for prevailing our thinking. The
fact is I have not seen convincing evidence for joining an
evolutionist’s crowd. If I would believe in the theory of evolution, a
human race might appear but many millions years later from now. I
believe that various life forms existed on other planets and much more
often than we think. As soon as the life form reached its potentials,
it would start fighting for domination. Once reaching the domination
and forced eating equal that life form would have a chance for evolving
into something else. Do other planets have intelligent creatures or
intelligent life forms? That is a separate question and in my opinion
yes, but just a very few of them or initially, just a single planet had
it, through the whole universe. I believe what happened was that
somewhere out, there is a planet where a life form became an intelligent
creature and extremely fast. It may have been that someone much more
powerful helped them, or something like a perfect and rare condition on
that planet existed, and it took no time at all for that life form to
reach its potential becoming an intelligent life form, and started
developing technologies. At some point, it committed to create
intelligent creatures throughout the universe, and our planet happened
to be on their list.
Here is a paragraph from “Evolution, natural selection, and humans,” “I do not have the capacity or position to criticize Creator, but allowing us to live as an animal for such a long time has left a lot of animal and primal instincts within our characteristics. Creator should have known better. There is talk about the year 2012 being the end of either the human race or the Earth. I do not believe we will all vanish or that the Earth will disappear, but I do believe that Creator will pay us a visit in the future. I do not see how else we could save ourselves from annihilation and without damaging Earth, making it inhospitable for our own survivability. The experience of millions of years of living like beasts to survive and reproduce at any cost cannot be forgotten or dissipated in three thousand years. We learned to eat with a fork and spoon, to write books, and create works of arts, but under the skin, we are not much different from a wild beast. We will lie, steal, deceive, desert, and even kill for our own survival and quite often for a pleasure. There is too much of animal instinct still lingering inside of us.”
“Please, give no human’s name to a pig” The warmest weather in October is around -20oC. The announcement for the beginning of the winter festival was typically the first scream of a pig. The time had come to put something else on the table besides potatoes and fish. It is also the time and opportunity to prove indisputably if you could be a friend and not just an acquaintance. Are you capable of sacrificing your own life to let your friend live or not? It was also a time for tears. During the short summer, people had become so attached and accustomed to caring for their pigs that often some women felt completely depressed when it came time for the slaughter. Thoughts of the upcoming slaughter were intolerable for some families because they made the grave mistake of naming their pig. How could anyone kill his or her friend “Bob,” even if it was a pig? If you are planning to eat something, isn’t it better off as a complete stranger? People had no choice but to kill their pigs. Hunger was in charge. With pain in their hearts and tears in their eyes, they would allow their friends to be killed.“Three traffic citations” At last, after several minutes of silence, the judge spoke. He dismissed the last two citations and asked my opinion on the first, which was the speeding citation. At first, I thought of taking advantage of the situation and asking him to dismiss it as well, but I was already happy with winning my case and decided not to press my luck. “Yes, it is possible that my car was driving slightly above the speed limit,” I said.
I noticed a suppressed smile on the judge’s lips, and without any words, he ruled for reducing the fine from 15-miles to 5-miles above the speed limit.
“Birth of my son” I do not have scientific evidence that intellectual development seems hostile to fertility, but in my case, it was applicable. After many unsuccessful tries, and at last with aid from modern medicine, we were able to impregnate my wife. Looking back, I knew that I had failed to fulfill my responsibility of reproduction. Most likely, this was one of the reasons for my wife acting so hateful toward me near the end of our marriage. Her averagely high, full-breasted, broad-hipped, and short-legged body was perfect for childbearing. At forty, she realized that her time had almost passed of fulfilling her dream of becoming the mother of a big family. I think that at least having three kids would have occupied her mind, filled her daily schedule, and kept our family solid. Plenty of kids in the house would give purpose to her life, and to most of us.
My controversy en route for women
Your superiority doesn’t need to be proven
You’re closer to God than most of us
Fulfilling dreams without knowing how
You are naturally born creators among us.
You are enjoying life by sparing it without fear
Ultimate goal not far, just one yelp away
Bearing of a child makes your life worth living
It is so easy for you to become immortal without sanity per se
I felt inferior having you beside
Nothing seems to help my pride
I’m stubborn in desire to create,
At least somewhat, close to your accomplishment per se
My effort is not aiding to be like you
The harder I work, the less of a chance was left
To be with you my love and dream
What else is left but “how can I be useful to you?”
“How not to buy a property”
The auctioneer understood with frustration that he could not suck any
more out of this crowd. There was no doubt he expected a much higher
bid. During that moment, thoughts of regret started rushing through my
head, and I prayed that somebody, anybody, would offer a higher bid.
“As little as a buck more please,” I whispered. The silence was
intense. The auctioneer gave up. He didn’t attempt to refresh
information about the building. Is it a conspiracy or what? Why is it
that after my bid the auctioneer decided to stops promoting the
building?
Tyler: Vladimir, part of the book focuses on your life growing up in Siberia during the time of the Soviet Union. What made you decide to write about your experiences?
Vladimir: There were numerous reasons to write about my life, the country where I lived, and things I made. All my life I have communicated using what I’ve learned during my life-journey. Mostly it is in the form of instructions. How to do things better, scientific publications describing results of investigations, technical papers about my inventions, and how to develop devices based on the most efficient ways, and exhibitions where attached page-long stories provided an explanation to my paintings. Among all media, giving out advice to my friends and anyone who would ask was not the reliable means for storing them, because temporary imprints were obscured by peoples’ memories and interpretations. Only a book offers a permanent storage and as long as we remain civilized, its contents will be available for lasting enjoyment and education for generations to come.
Another reason was more demanding and practical. America goes through dramatic and drastic social changes. I’m concerned where the country is moving and the possible outcome is frightening to me. I used to live in a not so friendly and you probably could say anti-Semitic country. My father died in agony, while I was holding him in my hands, having a massive heart attack after a Jew-hater hammered his chest. Here in USA, I faced the ugliness only on a few occasions. One such event is included in “How to Paint Chickens and Other stories.” I have not received a direct threat while living here yet. However, death wishes the way my father died came. I’m a tiny voice and a chance of reaching the megaphone is slim. Only a few people known of my concerns. If I and other people will keep our mouths shut, then there is a possibility that we’ll be too late. There are forces fighting for replacing faithfulness in God, with fetishes or modern forms of “religion” like “animal” and “green earth” rights all rooted in atheism. We are mortal and limited things and that is frightening to us. Once we get rid of one significant thing, we would find an obsession with another (thing or stuff).
Tyler: Vladimir, will you tell us how you came to live in the Uni