ანუ რა ხდება ალ ქურჯში. სეზონი II

[Instance]

13 საათის წინ, t-90 said:

პ.ს. მე ის მაინტერესებს ქალბატონი კრუპიე მარინა რომელიც ვუდროფს თვალებს უჟუჟუნებდა და მერე გოგოლაძესთან და ერთ ნაშასთან ერთად მანქანაში იჯდა ის რომელ ხრამში გდია.

https://2020news.ge/index.php/სიახლეები/item/42551-

თვითონ გოლცს ასე უწერია

As for the femme fatale Marina Kapenadze, she is variously described as having disappeared to “go fight” in Abkhazia, having become the victim of a KGB snuff-job, or as currently living very nicely in Tbilisi under a new name. Her attractive face, some say, graces a new series of toothpaste advertisements on billboards throughout the city.

[t-90]

4 საათის წინ, Instance said:

ეს უმაგრესია

აუ რას ამბოვ მაგაზე ვიცინე

რამდენიმე ნაცნობი მაგ დროის ჟურნალისტი წარმომიდგა თვალწინ.

მკისრებლები რო იყვნენ

4 საათის წინ, Instance said:

დის სცენაც მაგარია და სოხუმში რომ ტოვებს ისიც  

ხო არა მაგრაა დაწერილი ფაქტია.

4 საათის წინ, Instance said:

აქ ჩანს რომ თვითონაც თავი ლაჩრად აღიქვა გოლცმა

და რაც მთავარია მართLა განიცდის ამ მომენტს.

2 minutes წინ, Instance said:

As for the femme fatale Marina Kapenadze, she is variously described as having disappeared to “go fight” in Abkhazia, having become the victim of a KGB snuff-job, or as currently living very nicely in Tbilisi under a new name. Her attractive face, some say, graces a new series of toothpaste advertisements on billboards throughout the city.

აუ ეხა კი გამახსენდა. მაგ ქალის მოძებნაზე დიდი ამბები იყო 2003 წელს.

7 საათის წინ, Instance said:

როგორაა იცით, სენიორ, რასაც ნუნუ ამბობს ეს ჩვენთვისაა ჩვეულებრივი რასაც ნებისმიერი გამოსული ზვიადისტი ამბობდა.

ეს ტიპი რომელიც საქართველოს თემას იცნობს გარედან და პროშევარდნაძისტურად რომელიც წიგნის განმავლობაში გადმოდის ზვიადის მხარეს, იმისთვის ეს მოსჩანს რაღაც მისტიკურ სიბრძნედ.

რავი ჩემ გარშემო არცერთი გამოსული ზვიადისტი მაგას არ ამბობდა.

არადა ჩვენ სახლში ბაბუის და ბებიის ხათრით ნათესავების ორივე კამპანია ჯდებოდა მაშინ როცა გარეთ შეიძლებოდა არ დალაპარაკებულიყვნენ ერთმანეთს ან უფრო უარესი ესროლათ.

 

[Instance]

@t-90

ბოლოც ძალიან ძერსკია

Spoiler

The question, of course, is whether Misha can survive the events of August 2008. The disaster of the Russian–Georgian war makes him a target for external and internal enemies, and not only a heroic figure for those who need one. Neither assassination nor a berth as an adjunct professor-in-exile nor maturation as an international statesman who “baited the bear” and lived to tell the tale should be excluded from the range of future possibilities.

As for Georgia itself, whether geographically reduced as it has been today, or somehow expanded into someone’s idea of ideal form or even obliterated from the map for some period of time as has happened before, thanks to its location and turbulent history, Sakartvelo—Georgia—will continue to exist, because its lovely yet lethargic, problematic yet poetic people insist that it do so, blood vendettas, chacha-ambushes, political chaos, and all.

I would dearly like to invoke Bertolt Brecht and his Caucasian Chalk Circle to close this epilogue in a fancy, literary manner, but the words fail me or seem too faint to create a corresponding echo.

Accordingly, let me end this opus with a deeply felt apology to anyone and everyone associated with this book:

Bodish vikhdi, Sakartvelo:

Sorry that I never knew you well enough.

Thanks to all who taught me, thanks to all who sheltered me, and thanks to all who both taught and sheltered me, sometimes at once.

Cheers, and thank you.

Gaumarjos, Gmadlopt

მადლობას კი არ ამბობს, ბოდიშს რომ იხდის 

 

[Instance]

13 minutes წინ, t-90 said:

აუ რას ამბოვ მაგაზე ვიცინე

რამდენიმე ნაცნობი მაგ დროის ჟურნალისტი წარმომიდგა თვალწინ.

მკისრებლები რო იყვნენ

1) თამარა ჩიქოვანი

2) ...

 

კიდევ ღადაობა ისაა რომ უცხოელებიც დიდად განსხვავებულად არ ჰყავს დახატული

13 minutes წინ, t-90 said:

და რაც მთავარია მართLა განიცდის ამ მომენტს.

ვაბშე განიცდის ყველაფერს, ამიტომაა მაგრად დაწერილი

13 minutes წინ, t-90 said:

რავი ჩემ გარშემო არცერთი გამოსული ზვიადისტი მაგას არ ამბობდა.

რა ვიცი მე ნუნუს მოყვანილი ნარატივი მესმოდა მთელი ცხოვრება 24/7-ზე და მოწინაამღდეგეებისგან იმის მტკიცება რომ ეს ნარატივი შეთქმულების თეორიაა

რომ წავიკითხე ის გამიხარდა ძლივს ვიღაცამ (გოლცმა) აღიარა რაც მე მასწავლეს რომ შეთქმულების თეორია არაა

Edited 11 ოქტომბერი, 2022 by Instance

[t-90]

53 minutes წინ, Instance said:

მადლობას კი არ ამბობს, ბოდიშს რომ იხდის

ძაან ძერსკია.

48 minutes წინ, Instance said:

1) თამარა ჩიქოვანი

2) ...

ახალგაზრდა მაროშკინა მაგალითად

50 minutes წინ, Instance said:

 

კიდევ ღადაობა ისაა რომ უცხოელებიც დიდად განსხვავებულად არ ჰყავს დახატული

ნწუ კარდინალურად განსხვავდება.

პროჭის ჭია != "სადღაცა ბანტუსტანშI რაღაცა ხდება გასტყვნია პატრონი" მიდგომას.

51 minutes წინ, Instance said:

რა ვიცი მე ნუნუს მოყვანილი ნარატივი მესმოდა მთელი ცხოვრება 24/7-ზე და მოწინაამღდეგეებისგან იმის მტკიცება რომ ეს ნარატივი შეთქმულების თეორიაა

რომ წავიკითხე ის გამიხარდა ძლივს ვიღაცამ (გოლცმა) აღიარა რაც მე მასწავლეს რომ შეთქმულების თეორია არაა

მთლად ნუნუს ნარატივს მამენტ მეც არ ვეთანხმები მაგრამ ბევრი რამე დასვა.

 

[Instance]

3 minutes წინ, t-90 said:

ნწუ კარდინალურად განსხვავდება.

პროჭის ჭია != "სადღაცა ბანტუსტანშI რაღაცა ხდება გასტყვნია პატრონი" მიდგომას.

არა ტანკო მაგალითად ეს

Spoiler

“That was Thomas Goltz, reporting from Baku . . .” said that stately British voice-in-the-box, referring to the world’s newest “expert,” on all things Georgian, namely, me.

The funny thing was that I knew next to nothing about Gamsakhurdia or the situation in Georgia. I had never met the man, never been to Georgia and my information about him and his country was limited to the Moscow evening news and the BBC. A true confession: aside from being able to confirm that he had set foot in Azerbaijan, I knew so little about Gamsa khurdia that I was obliged to cloak my new, putative expertise by avoiding the pitfall of mispronouncing his name. “Azerbaijani sources have confirmed that the Georgian leader . . .” was one way to get around the slurry of consonants. Variations on the same name-avoidance theme also included references to “the Georgian president,” “the ousted mercurial headman,” and perhaps even “the contentious chief of state.” In other words, I did not know what the hell I was talking about but somehow managed to make it sound as if I did. Still, I had been on BBC News Hour, and thus by universal definition— or that feckless manner in which news is usually produced—had become an expert on Georgia, because what is reported on the BBC is the news all others have to carry, and what the BBC ignores is by definition not news. And now, as an expert, I was supposed to produce news on demand. That meant finding Gamsakhurdia, however you were supposed to pronounce his name.

“TASS reports that he has left Armenia and is back in Georgia,” said Matthew helpfully, referring to the Soviet news agency regarded as a Communist Party lie-machine until the collapse of the USSR. Following that event, TASS had suddenly and miraculously been reborn—with exactly the same staff—as the Russian equivalent of the Associated Press. “He’s in a place called—hghmm, let me look at my map—it’s a place called Zugdidi. He has called for the start of civil war. File me 1,000 words with lots of color by Thursday afternoon.”

“Matthew, today is Wednesday,” I said. “And even if I find him in that place you just mentioned, how do I file from a country in the midst of civil war?”

“Okay, I get your point,” said Matthew. “A Friday file would be fine.”

“Matthew,” I said. “This is impossible.”

“I know. But if anyone can do it, it’s you,” said Matthew, booking the line space.

Friday, I said to myself and laughed. I had two days: one to prove the impossibility of finding Gamsakhurdia, and the second to write about whatever else I found. Parachute journalism at its superficial worst. But it was an excuse to get my feet wet in Georgia.

The Quest for Gamsakhurdia had been joined.

თუ "სადღაც ბანდუსტანში გასტყვნია პატრონია"

ესენი

Spoiler

“Zviad Gamsakhurdia may not have been the most intelligent man in Georgia, but he was the bravest—and did what a brave man had to do,” said my old friend Merab Kiknadze from those early Sukhumi days, standing with me at the edge of the mourners as the speeches went on and on that cold February day.

“What do you mean by that?” I asked Merab, who had been living in exile at times in Grozny and at other times in Sweden.

“Don’t ask me anymore,” he said elliptically. “I don’t speak to the press anymore after the way your profession maligned, lied about, and then crucified him.”

“But you are talking to me.”

“You are different, sort of,” said Merab. “But I still want to know why you let Shevardnadze off so lightly in that Foreign Policy piece of yours.”2

“You read it?”

“We read everything,” snarled Merab.

“I couldn’t get it published any other way.”

“Oh.”

We stood together and listened to the speeches and eulogies for hours, it seemed. And it was bitterly cold. Finally, mercifully, Gamsakhurdia’s wife Manana was pulled off the casket while pallbearers, led by an incense-sprinkling priest, lifted Zviad and placed him in the earth of Muslim Chechnya.

The Gamsakhurdia-Shevardnadze rivalry was over, at last.

“Remember that night in Sukhumi when I told you that you could see Zviad?” Merab mused as we walked away from the single-entry graveyard, referring to the Gamsakhurdia video night way back when in Sukhumi, circa February 1992. “We actually hoped we might be able to win, that the West would support us. We miscalculated badly.”

“I’ll say.”

“Georgia has now entered a long dark period,” he sighed. “I can only hope that future generations appreciate what they have lost, but I doubt they will.”

Spoiler

I dodged my way away from the Rustavis at around eight or nine in the morning, making a zigzag pattern down the exposed lane that led back up from the river to the main road through town and Novyi Raion. It didn’t take long to find the area hit by the phantom fighter-bomber the night before. The 500-kilogram “vacuum” bomb had vaporized a two-story residential house and torn off the back half of four other houses surrounding it, with collateral damage spreading several hundred meters further. Miraculously, only one man—a local doctor—was killed outright, although his wife was said to have later died in a local hospital after she was brought in for treatment. Traces of the strafing attack were equally easy to find. Football-sized divots defined the path of the rockets and cannon, while the accompanying machinegun fire had ripped apart cars and fences along the street leading to the destroyed house, as if the pilot had intended to catch survivors or rescuers out of doors as they dug through the rubble of their friends’ homes. That no one was killed in the strafing run was a miracle, although over a dozen people had been wounded. One man by the name of Serge Tromidova told me how he had been lying in a bedroom on the ground floor when a rocket blasted through the top story of his house and penetrated two walls before exploding, sending a piece of shrapnel through the floor that dropped hot, but no longer deadly, on his chest.

“The Russian pigs,” he cursed. “The only way they fight is bombing civilians.”

His charge could not be proved, although logical extrapolation seemed to suggest the veracity of his claim. The Abkhaz had no air force; the plane had flown in from the north through Russian Black Sea air defense space and returned more or less the same way. They were Russian planes, possibly piloted by freelance aviators or more likely by Russian air force men on “loan” to terror-bomb civilians in Sukhumi. But nobody wanted to know about it, at least nobody at the foreign news desks of the papers I worked for.

“Why would Yeltsin bomb Shevardnadze?” demanded an editor. “They are both democrats! And how can you prove that the planes were Russian?”

The “mystery plane above the Gumista” story was never published, apparently because it was not news fit to print. Perhaps there was an upsurge in violence in Bosnia at the time, and the digest of obscure foreign wars had been filled for that day or week.

The government in Tbilisi was having a hard time convincing anyone outside the country about Russian involvement, too. Even when the Georgians managed to shoot down a MIG-29 and recover the body of the dead Russian pilot with all his papers, the Kremlin refused to admit any involvement. Confronted with the evidence, the Russian minister of defense, Pavel Grachev, denied that any Russian aircraft were operating anywhere near the theater— and then charged Georgia with terror-bombing its own citizens. When it was pointed out that the markings on the aircraft were distinctly Russian, Grachev blithely replied that the Georgians had painted his country’s insignia on the plane in order to disguise it.

When the Georgians brought down a second “mystery” aircraft, they invited a United Nations military observer to inspect both it and the papers of the dead pilot. The observer later told me that although he was convinced that the dead man was indeed a professional Russian pilot flying a Russian MIG-29, he was unable to categorically state that the pilot was operating under orders from somewhere inside the Russian defense ministry. “We need to see orders, written orders, and we need to see the pilots receive them, get in their planes, take off, bomb, and then return to fill out mission completion forms,” the frustrated observer said. “We are never going to get all that.”

Spoiler

We scooted back to his place in a nondescript Baku suburb for me to wash the week of road-filth out of my clothes, have a quick breakfast, and watch and compare Russian TV with the BBC reports on the decision of the Russian Duma’s upper house to ask for recognition of South Ossetia and Abkhazia as independent states. What was so extraordinary about this largely pro forma process was the almost desperate belief of Western leaders that their words held any sway over Russia at all. George W. Bush, Gordon Brown, and Nicolas Sarkozy had all “warned” Russia not to recognize the two wayward entities lest the West impose diverse meaningless sanctions, and the words of warning were picked up and paraphrased by the diverse expert talking-heads on Russian affairs at the BBC, CNN, and Fox, who advised viewers why Moscow needed to take seriously the toothless threats (changing the venue of the 2014 Olympics, nonadmittance to the WTO, go-slow on the G-8, and so on), even while Russian television stations were devoting live, exclusive coverage to the thundering, standing ovation afforded South Ossetian leader Eduard Kokoity and Abkhaz leader Sergei Bagapsh when they approached the Duma dais to thank the Russian Federation for recognizing them as independent statelets. The disconnect between the West’s perception of its ability to influence much less govern events in the lands of the former USSR and the real situation could not have been greater, but became even more profound with the prediction by the same “expert” commentators that Russian President Medvedev would of course take the West’s reaction into account before signing the Duma’s recommendation into law in accordance with the Russian constitution.

But Medvedev did no such thing.

Within twenty-four hours, the former Gazprom boss and Putin acolyte not only inked his signature on the Duma recognition document, but invited the international hack-pack to his luxurious dacha outside the Russian Black Sea resort city of Sochi to celebrate the fact of his presidential imprimatur on the Abkhaz/South Ossetian recognition business in a series of oh-so-exclusive and oh-so-respectful interviews. Ironically, one invited guest was none other than the BBC’s Bridget Kendall, my media colleague of “Quest for Gamsakhurdia” fame from January 1992. CNN, Al-Jazeera, and other mass-media outlets soon followed suit in their obsequious homage and de facto (and almost breathless) sanction of the Russian invasion of Georgia and subsequent recognition of the two entities.

For balance, the BBC and all the others generally rolled live, rambling interviews with Saakashvili, who usually appeared unkempt, distracted, and scratching his scabby wrists. Unlike Medvedev, Misha was repeatedly subjected to unregal interruptions by the interviewers, along the lines of “Excuse me Mister President, but you told our listeners the same thing last week . . .”

არის ნომენკლატურაზე სწორება და შესაბამისად ტრაკის ჭიობა

 

5 minutes წინ, t-90 said:

ახალგაზრდა მაროშკინა მაგალითად

ეს არც ვიცოდი ჟურნალისტი თუ იყო ოდესმე

 

7 minutes წინ, t-90 said:

ძაან ძერსკია.

კი ვაბშე ძაან ძერსკი წიგნია

[t-90]

6 minutes წინ, Instance said:

 

We scooted back to his place in a nondescript Baku suburb for me to wash the week of road-filth out of my clothes, have a quick breakfast, and watch and compare Russian TV with the BBC reports on the decision of the Russian Duma’s upper house to ask for recognition of South Ossetia and Abkhazia as independent states. What was so extraordinary about this largely pro forma process was the almost desperate belief of Western leaders that their words held any sway over Russia at all. George W. Bush, Gordon Brown, and Nicolas Sarkozy had all “warned” Russia not to recognize the two wayward entities lest the West impose diverse meaningless sanctions, and the words of warning were picked up and paraphrased by the diverse expert talking-heads on Russian affairs at the BBC, CNN, and Fox, who advised viewers why Moscow needed to take seriously the toothless threats (changing the venue of the 2014 Olympics, nonadmittance to the WTO, go-slow on the G-8, and so on), even while Russian television stations were devoting live, exclusive coverage to the thundering, standing ovation afforded South Ossetian leader Eduard Kokoity and Abkhaz leader Sergei Bagapsh when they approached the Duma dais to thank the Russian Federation for recognizing them as independent statelets. The disconnect between the West’s perception of its ability to influence much less govern events in the lands of the former USSR and the real situation could not have been greater, but became even more profound with the prediction by the same “expert” commentators that Russian President Medvedev would of course take the West’s reaction into account before signing the Duma’s recommendation into law in accordance with the Russian constitution.

But Medvedev did no such thing.

Within twenty-four hours, the former Gazprom boss and Putin acolyte not only inked his signature on the Duma recognition document, but invited the international hack-pack to his luxurious dacha outside the Russian Black Sea resort city of Sochi to celebrate the fact of his presidential imprimatur on the Abkhaz/South Ossetian recognition business in a series of oh-so-exclusive and oh-so-respectful interviews. Ironically, one invited guest was none other than the BBC’s Bridget Kendall, my media colleague of “Quest for Gamsakhurdia” fame from January 1992. CNN, Al-Jazeera, and other mass-media outlets soon followed suit in their obsequious homage and de facto (and almost breathless) sanction of the Russian invasion of Georgia and subsequent recognition of the two entities.

For balance, the BBC and all the others generally rolled live, rambling interviews with Saakashvili, who usually appeared unkempt, distracted, and scratching his scabby wrists. Unlike Medvedev, Misha was repeatedly subjected to unregal interruptions by the interviewers, along the lines of “Excuse me Mister President, but you told our listeners the same thing last week . . .”

არის ნომენკლატურაზე სწორება და შესაბამისად ტრაკის ჭიობა

ნომენკლატურაზე სწორება არაა. უბრალოდ ვერ ასწორებენ ნარატივს.

6 minutes წინ, Instance said:

ეს არც ვიცოდი ჟურნალისტი თუ იყო ოდესმე

ჰეჰ

როგორც ედიკა იტყოდა "მუამბეს" რუსულენოვანი რედაქციიის (ვესტნიკის) ჟურნალისტი იყო.

მარკ რივკინი ვის გახსოვთ აბა?

ახლახანს მოკვდა საწყალი.

6 minutes წინ, Instance said:

კი ვაბშე ძაან ძერსკი წიგნია

კარგადაა დაწერილი ნამდვილად.

 

Edited 11 ოქტომბერი, 2022 by t-90

[Instance]

1 minute წინ, t-90 said:

ნომენკლატურაზე სწორება არაა. უბრალოდ ვერ ასწორებენ ნარატივს.

კაი პირველი ორი ხო შეიძლება ასე აღიქვა, მაგრამ აგვისტოც?

ეგ იმენა ნომენკლატურაზე სწორებაა