I'm close to insanity from the stink of newspapers, and almost cry when I accidentally hear the radio or stumble upon the ugly face of a TV reporter ... It's strange, but deep down I have always been sure that we would definitely return to this vomit. Even in the most encouraging times, I knew that it was a mirage, a deceit, a delusion, and we would fall down with a sob to worship this rotting corpse. What sadness, what boredom! And how eagerly everyone strives for stupefaction, baseness, dumbness. So few of us were spiritually prepared for a worthy life, a life of mind and heart; most didn't have the energy to do so. People were terrified of the smallest whiff of freedom, its faint shadow. Now they have embraced the usual lies. The ban on meanness and betrayal has been lifted again; again - no moral prohibitions, no responsibility - childish cynicism, pagan innocence, Neanderthal morality.
Russian writer Yuri Nagibin wrote these words in his diary in 1968 when the USSR invaded Czechoslovakia. How scary is it that Nagibin could have been writing this verbatim today?
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