When I look out the window of my seventh floor apartment in the southwest of Moscow, I am greeted by a heavily-armed blonde dressed in nothing but a bullet-proof jacket, a plant that looks suspiciously like cannabis (whose relation to mobile phones I have yet to determine), and a heavily made-up brunette in a low-necked dress thrown back passionately in a tango with a hot Latino guy. The girls, the macho Latino and the suspicious plant wink libidinously at me from the billboards, as if inviting me to leave my computer and join the party.
A week ago, this libertine company was joined by Tsar Peter the Great, reformer Pyotr Stolypin and poet Alexander Pushkin. Their homes are on smaller and more modest triangular posts, planted between the billboards and the chestnut trees in a green patch between the two sides of a busy road. The three great men have been summoned from history so that the Interior Minister-led political party (Unified Russia) can cajole me into voting for it in the coming elections, scheduled for the first Sunday in December.
As the vote approaches, advertisement rates soar, incited by political parties impatient to spend their electoral budgets. However, some bidders for a comfy Duma seat are resorting to much bolder and more effective means than billboards to deliver their message to the inert (yet gullible) electorate.
Lavish promises cost nothing and are no less effective than billboards. The Communists have promised to lower prices on food and consumer goods. How they would control prices without a repeat of 1918 — nationalizing all industries — is not clear.
The People’s Will party has promised to grant residents of the Extreme North complete financial support. But the shrinking population of the Extreme North, much of which already lives a life of dissipation, will drink even more from having nothing left to do.
But the best promise has been made by the Russian nationalist party, Rus’. Rus’ claims its experts have been developing “a unique device which can influence the weather, namely cause or end precipitation over a certain area.” This means Russians will be able to sunbathe year-round, except for the brief periods allocated for natural watering of their dacha plots.
Other parties have used their offical Duma activities as a means of campaigning. While few bills are likely to be passed before December 7 (first, the deputies are too busy with their campaigns and, second, if they should not be reelected, they would have to live under these laws), some interesting proposals have in fact been made. This September, The Union of Right Forces (SPS) came up with the idea of decreasing the minimum age for members of political parties from 18 to 16. The proposal was voted down on the grounds that those under 18 years of age cannot vote. This likely disappointed the numerous under-aged supporters of the SPS, which has also advocated an end to the slavery that is military conscription (and which every Russian male is subject to as soon as he gets the precious right to join a political party).
Other parties use the very efficient and simple tactic of coaxing the starved electorate with freebies. This August in Samara, the Liberal Democratic Party’s ever-vigorous leader, Vladimir Zhirinovsky, was handing out 100-500 ruble notes. Usually, he distributes bottles of vodka, but this is better still: 100 rubles can be converted into two bottles.
Almost every party is holding all kinds of contests and competitions, with lavish prizes. Thus, Unified Russia held a competition for the best dacha in Samara (the same lucky city where Zhirinovsky was handing out R500 notes). The slogan of the team that won spoke for itself (and, maybe, for Unified Russia’s program as well): “Pension plus vegetable garden — we will survive!” Winners were awarded with gardening tools and seeds.
At a summer camp in Penza, Unified Russia organized a patriotism contest. The boy who won titled his essay: “I am a patriot and for my flag and I am ready to fight and die.” His friends who sang the Russian anthem “most patriotically” were awarded with cakes. (This brought back sweet and sour reminiscences of my own Pioneer youth. Life has definitely changed for the better. Back in the 1980s, we did not get cakes for being patriotic.) Russia’s number one party also incited people across Russia to dance, sing, draw graffiti, lift heavy objects, make rowboats and participate in deer races.
Other parties used their names to determine their entertainment. Thus, Yavlinsky’s Yabloko (Apple) party has held contests for the best apple pie and the best children’s drawing of an apple. The Party of Life, in accordance with its name, has launched contests of dog-owners, bird-experts, a contest for the most beautiful garden and “environmentally-oriented fairy-tales” in different towns of Russia.
Communists, as usual, do not give out anything edible or useful. Instead, they have launched two essay competitions, one titled “The fight of a man of labor for his rights” and another one for young communists (Pioneers): “Pioneers Against Drugs.” You can send your ruminations to:
You can send your ruminations on the subjects [email protected]
Have fun!
– Lina Rozovskaya
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