25/03/2022
Sadist. Paranoid psychopath with delusions of grandeur and overvalued ideas. pathological liar. Self-esteem is inadequate. Intelligence is low. His personality is rapidly deteriorating. He lives in a parallel world, divorced from reality, completely out of touch with reality. He doesn't understand her. How people live, how they feel, what they dream about, why they suffer - a moral idiot cannot even imagine this. And he doesn't want to. Having created an artificial, tightly sealed world around him, where he slowly, for years, boiled in a cauldron of his own lies and caveman prejudices, as a result he finally lost his mind. Not conscience, conscience was never there.
Yes, he is not capable of compassion and sympathy, but at the same time he himself is very vulnerable and suspicious. He is incapable of love. He is very touchy and vengeful, probably, all the inferiority and desire to get even, to cause as much suffering as possible to everyone he reaches, grow from childhood, where he was a stricken, spineless and mediocre scum on errands. Cowardly and resourceful. Eternal cowardice gave rise in him to excessive, often senseless cruelty in actions and transcendent, monstrous cynicism. His view of the world is the view of an evil microbe from a test tube. His thinking is commensurate with the scale of the personality. He thinks narrowly, stereotyped, with attitudes and slogans. Judgments about the world and people are artisanal and limited. Like any tyrant, he is prone to hoaxes, sacred meanings, and symbolism. At the same time, he is terribly notorious, alienated, withdrawn and emotionally poor. It compensates for its inferiority in all spheres of life by suppressing and destroying people. His system of values is docked, narrowed down to a primitive formula "friend or foe", and is a set of ideological clichés: Russia is Uber alles, the West is enemies and strangers; the people are potentially dangerous cattle that must be kept in check, periodically teasing the carrot of national exclusiveness; power is the lot of the elite, the meaning of power is in itself and personal enrichment. However, the latter has long ceased to play any role and the maniacal ideas of the hegemon of the empire on Earth at any cost and by any means came to the fore.
Terry fosterling of Stalin's times with the psychology of a guard and an ordinary executioner. Gray in everything, faceless, petty. He absorbed all the mocking misanthropy of the office breed. Absolutely unprincipled. It does not have any well-established, more or less moral concepts, except for the Zon ones. A downtrodden teenager is hiding inside him, and outside he is trying to keep the mask of a brutal, witty, his own man in the board. His vocabulary is stingy, his vocabulary is replete with vulgar proverbs and criminal, police jargon. It is very important for him to have an opinion about him from the outside, therefore he is prone to posturing and wretched, anecdotal machismo, like all notorious people. It always turns out ridiculous and pathetic. It can be seen that this is just a stretched mask, and under it another one, and then another and so on to the very bottom, where in a gurgling, black, fetid and disgusting liquid, clasping his shaking knees with his arms, sits some kind of bilious, downtrodden dwarf.
As a politician, he is mediocre and insignificant, because he looks only to the past and is afraid of any changes, as a threat to his power. And most importantly - he does not know what change is, he does not understand this. Politically fruitless, because it is obsessed with its limitless, end-to-end power. Like a stalactite, it hangs alone in its dark cave and enjoys dampness, darkness and the echo of the pain of millions of people tortured by it.
Someone else is still trying to delve into his soul in order to understand something there. And she's not there. Simply no. There is one big nothing inside. And when absolute worthlessness in the flesh gets into its hands unlimited power with a red button, then what we see today is obtained. He wanted to enter the history books, become part of the Great Russian epic, the arbiter of destinies, and enter as a banal war criminal who went off the rails. He wants to be feared, to tremble before him, but everyone looks at him with contemptuous disgust, expecting his speedy death.
In hell, they are already looking at the clock. Everything is ready.
