Смертность от 1921-1953 в СССР:

Казнены: 900.000

Случаи смерти в ГУЛАГе: 1,2 миллиона, но лишь 25% политических заключенных, остальные обычных преступников: 300,000

Число смертей от кулаков в коллективизации: 390,000

Не включает в себя смерть на перемещения населения в 2 МВ и, возможно, немецкий войны в плен смерти. Не включает в себя украинский голод, который не был преднамеренным. Голодомор цифры: 1,5 млн. человек.

Все цифры из советских архивов новое открытие.

Итого: 1,59 million убиты.

Сталин, вероятно, спасти 35 миллионов жизней. Все прогресса в жизни закончился в начале 1960 гг. Царизм убиты 3 X, как много на душу населения в год, как сталинизм. Возврат к капитализму было убито 15 миллионов россиян, и коммунистов, убитых только 1,6 миллиона.

Было статистически невозможным для Сталина иметь казнен 20 до 40 миллионов человек.


http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Demographics_of_the_Soviet_Union

Январь 1926 : 148,656,000*
Январь 1937: 162,500,000*
Январь 1939: 168,524,000*


Все женщин фертильного - примерно 1 / 6 часть населения - должны были бы родить 6 детей, в 13 лет, при нормальных показателей смертности.

http://www.shuku.net/novels/history/zgrsgtwby/zgsg15.html

Coupures Gouvernementales

Mon enfant, t'habite une ville pauvre.
règle-toi, selon les règles de la coupure
le couteau de l'empereur, du notre Seigneur
le couteau pour l'or
et la maison, mon enfant,
guillotiner le coeur,
une vièrge de fer
bouc émissaire
la pitié du paradis du Ciel
aucune, mon enfant, seulement la trahaison cruelle
Les Dieux Justes, ils aiment les officiels

Papa se débarrasse de son enfant:
"Naître, c'est commencer à mourir seulement
T'es nouveau-né, mon enfant
Les gens appliquent la pression
Mon coeur ne veule sentir
Les fruits de ta destin amer."

"Adieu, Papa
Se brise mon coeur,
sang comme deux lignes de larmes
Papa se sépare de moi en Terre
Jusqu'à la mort des sources du monde,
Et je revois mes chers parents..."

Traduit du Chinois par Jerome Raymond Kraus (2008)
© Copyright Jerome Raymond Kraus (2008)

Shulamit

Matthew Shoham

A.

The vineyards! Face the evening sun,
Distant peaks, sunlight shimmering
slowly dies, is gone,
South Winds come, turning here, there,
Fruited palm trees, where figs whisper;
Hawks dozing on flowered branches,
To the road, pass quickly through vineyards;
Non-return of Spring, turning back of times;
Oaks midst weeds, then enter vineyards,
Yearning, darkened soul, dreaming of multitudes
Like stars in heaven.
My breast slowly rising, quietly waiting,
See a shining moon, sad, pregnant, a secret telling:
So great our anticipation
of the coronation
of our King, our Shepard,
And vultures are deceived.
-- Welcome,
my Lord, Welcome!

B.

Welcome, my King!
Dozing and dreaming, our hearts angrily beating.
Fleeing the palace, our beloved Sovereign.
Woodland deer, frightened.

Run, my Lord, run!...silently, fly like the wind;
Beneath palmy fronds, silently awaiting,
Midst the beech trees' branches.

The King awakes -- with his seven mistresses--
His Seven Sisters,
In his gold-inlaid cedar canopy,
Shulamit the Lusty.

In vinyards nightly longing,
Savage mountain lions,
Wild bulls their mates craving, charging,
A secret place, grasshoppers midst strewn stones.

Welcome, my Lord!
Blood-red grapes, fresh figs,
Hidden, silently aroused,
Courted by firey tongues.

Intense pain of yearning, pain of silent knowing,
Its clear signature, submerged in the flowery garden,
Ardent pleasure garden.

Recount a night blaze on the eastern wall,
Temptation's apple,
Like ripe fruit blossoms,
Embalming the essence of fruitfulness.

Welcome, my Lord!
I say: there's a wise response, opposed
To the decadent South,
My King, no childish wit,
Think clear, do what's right.

Love's a riddle, an allegory in song:
Know you love's season, her mad unreason?
Night lust's sudden ripe appearing?

Wherefore pursue blazing night enchantments,
Enter the fire devouring, 'Come, O Egypt!',
E'en to silver, vineyards starry-dipped?

Ah, so much to learn, and how, my Lord perplexed,
to plumb its depths,
Just a mad, stupid beast, this mystery,
Shulamit cannot decipher.

C.

But to assume the wisdom
of age,
a flash of insight --
Be thus delivered, my Lord!
Or to assume
the great austerity of association,
With strained muscular potency --
The cruel sword cuts
the gentle, bare throat,
Temples blazing, glistening flesh,
Flesh of the breast
hangs between potency and immature weakness, --
Just a brave boy.
Mighty Shulamit, heroic prick.
As if by decree --
he falls to his knees.
Behold him -- Our King, he sleeps, a child's slumber.
Merely an object of pity, adolescent overgrown,
pained and deceived.
You are magnificent, heroic, while I am Nothing!
I am young, deceived;
by you, a ravenous vulture.
Childlike joy: tremendous power.
Our hero presses on with a mighty roar --
I listen: just a beggar boy, a mere petitioner,
Dreaming, a mother imploring the people to come
to her bosom...




Translated from Hebrew by Jerome Raymond Kraus (2008)
© Copyright Jerome Raymond Kraus (2008)

Scientific Atheism: The Religious Left

During the debate over Global Warming over the past few years -- largely dissipated now, since the world had its coldest winter in 100 years -- I noticed a rather striking characteristic of many of the debators on the Global Warming side of the issue. They weren't really debating. They were screaming. They were denouncing. They were emoting. They appeared to have an emotional investment in the issue far out of proportion not only to the rather questionable factual base supporting the concept of global warming, but to any possible practical implications of global warming even if -- as appears not to be the case -- their facts had been accurate. The notion that global warming might not be important appeared to cause them actual physical pain, to the point of inducing madness.

At the time, I thought that, perhaps, this reflected the development of a new kind of religion based on nature worship and environmentalism, perhaps focused on the International Green Party, and harkening back to the nature worship of the Druids and the polytheists. It appeared to have a fundamentally irrational basis, indifferent to scientific reality logic or fact, attaching great emotional significance to powerful totemistic symbols such as the Nobel Prize and "scientific concensus" without any real interest in whether they reflected any fundamental, underlying reality.

Lately, I have been debating so-called, self described "atheists". Personally, I doubt it is possible to truly be an atheist: we all have to believe in something, after all. We all must have some sense of purpose, if only to feed our bellies. Some may have a more complex sense of purpose and structure to things than others, but, we all have some sense of structure and purpose. In the case of modern, American "atheists", this structure and purpose is what they call "science". It has, of course, nothing to do with "science" in the normal sense of the term, which is the pursuit of knowledge. Rather, it represents an attempt to find a simple solution to the complexities of life, by assuming that if something called the "scientific method" is applied to them, all complexities will, magically, disappear, and everything will be simple and clear, easily understood and controlled.

"Great Scientists" are perceived by these "atheists" as Saints and Martyrs to humanity, above and beyond all material and practical considerations, Saviours to humanity. Exactly who these people are, or why, is not well understood. Many Nobel Prize winners would, presumably qualify, since the Nobel Prize is one of their great totemistic symbols. Many University Professors would also qualify, since Universities are another of their totemistic symbols. They would be less inclined to support professional scientists working in Industry, because they see Business as evil, and are somewhat socialistic in their leanings. But, some inventors would qualify, as well.

Whence comes this new religion, and why? I would suggest that it is related to the current social and economic difficulties in the United States, and is largely an American phenomenon. People are looking for simple solutions, and science and technology have, in the past, provided solutions. But, rather than focusing on actual progress in science -- which is difficult and complex -- the intention is to focus on the symbols of science as an emotionally reassuring manifestation of progress, whether any progress is actually made or not.

I suspect we are at something of a watershed in Science, at the moment, and this religious manifestation indicates the likelihood of a fundamental change in the way science is done. Computer technologies allow the control and analysis of such huge quantities of data, now, that some systematic method of selection, evaluation and interpretation beyond conventional peer review and committee methods is necessary. Some truly "scientific" method of determining which data is important, and why.

Photographs

Constantine Simonov

I didn't take your photos outside:
All the same to me - as I recall - when we arrived.
Four days long travel, through the Urals,
My melancholy hidden from curious fellow travellers.

After the battle, I'll never forget,
Amongst bags, thermoses, sabres,
A heap of trophies, the floor covered in dust,
Those photos of women with slanted eyes.

Silently, lovingly lying in pasteboard frames,
Colored lanterns with darkened devils,
tiny, silken fishes,
All of them, even the bloodied ones
Smiling a paper smile of long past times.

"Nice" I might say, casually,
Drop it underfoot, while it smiled back at me.
Heartless? No, just another casualty:
Seizing trophies was not our duty.

No, I didn't take your photos. What were they to me?
Nor will I. But you, Sir, don't be jealous of me,
For the moment try to see,
Sleeping beneath my feet there,
In the dust, General.

Translated by Jerome Raymond Kraus (2008)
© Copyright Jerome Raymond Kraus (2008)

George Eliot et "Les Génocides Utiles"

Tout le monde sait les histoires de Hitler, de Pol Pot et de Rwanda: comment les gens étaient massacrés en leurs millions pour rien sauf, peut-être, le plaisir de la haine. On dit que ce sont des monstres. Mais, comment, pour tous ces gens qui étaient massacrés en leurs millions pour des "bonnes raisons" ?

C'est la bonne question, non ? Toutes ces guerres en lesquelles les puissants ont massacré les faibles, pour n'importe quelle raison: la terre, l'argent, le pouvoir. Dans toute l'histoire. Ne sont pas celles-ci les génocides, aussi ? Pourquoi pas ? On pense au Darinisme Social, à la survivance des mieux adaptés. Et, aussi, on pense à George Eliot, l'autrice de "The Mill on the Floss", "Le Moulin sur la rivière Floss".

Ce livre, "Le Moulin sur la rivière Floss", était écrit dans l'an même en lequel le grand livre de Darwin, "L'Origine des èspeces" était publié. Et aussi, un an devant une des plus grandes guerres de toute l'histoire jusqu'à ce point-ci, la grande Guerre Civile des États-Unis: effectivement, un génocide pour combattre un autre génocide. L'intrigue de ce livre est centré sur une famille gérante du Moulin, assez prospère au début, mais, parce qu'ils ne sont pas assez focalisé sur la poursuite d'argent, parce qu'ils sont trop aimables, trop intellectuels, et trop sensibles, ils deviennent progressivement plus misérables et pauvres au cours du livre.

Les critiques se plaignent de la fin du livre. Toute la famille se noient dans un grande déluge sur la rivière. Mais, quoi ça signifie, exactement ? Ce ne sont pas des mauvais gens, ils ne méritent pas cette anéantissement. Ce soit, peut-être, le Darwinisme Social ? Mais, en ce cas, on peut dire que les gens aimables, intellectuels et sensibles aient assez d'utilité dans la société, même s'ils ne gagnent pas d'argent.

Je crois que l'intention du George Eliot était de faire une satire du Darwinisme. De démontrer que la survivance des mieux adaptés ne s'applique pas très bien à la société humaine. Nous avons tous nos propres utilités pour la société, et, il faut pas anéantir les gens qui ne se conforment pas à nos propres idées de la perfection ou de la utilité. La seule raison pratique pour le génocide c'est de combattre le génocides plus grands: comme dans la Guerre Civile des États-Unis, comme dans la Seconde Guerre Mondiale. Faut pas tuer les gens seulement pour argent, pour la terre, pour le pouvoir.