Sheer Meanness

[poliphilo]

I dreamed it was WWII and we were fighting the Russians so I suppose we must have been nazis. We'd captured a monument- decorated with huge murals and statues glorifying the victory of the proletariat- the work of one of Russia's greatest artists. It had no strategic value- so when we started destroying it we were acting out of sheer meanness. The statues were made of some pliable, stretchable material. I took the craggy head of a Soviet hero in my hands and twisted it back so that- if it had been a living creature- I would have broken its neck...