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Joshua Wolens (@joshuawolens) · DIRTY

Joshua Wolens

@joshuawolens

i have a high reading level for my age

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Joshua Wolens@joshuawolens· 25d

they should stop using the stalin/yezhov photo as the go-to example of Soviet censorship and start using the much funnier 1963 cut of Lenin In October, where they replaced every appearance of Stalin with The Back Of Some Guy's Head

Shot from the 1937 cut of Lenin In October. Lenin addresses the Central Committee. Gathered around him are Moisei Uritsky, Joseph Stalin, Felix Dzerzhinsky, and Yakov Sverdlov.

Lenin addresses the Central Committee in the 1963 cut. Dzerzhinsky and Sverdlov are still visible on Lenin's left, but Stalin (and, by necessity, Uritsky) are entirely obscured by the back of some guy's head, who has been haphazardly edited into the scene.

Lenin declares the worker-peasant revolution at the 2nd All-Russian Congress of Soviets in the 1937 cut. Stalin is right beside him (where actually Trotsky was in the real event).

Lenin declares the revolution in the 1963 cut. Stalin has again been obscured by the back of a guy's head, edited in so poorly as to look like a guy who accidentally wandered into shot.

Joshua Wolens@joshuawolens· Jul 12

met a legend

Frida Kahlo’s hammer and sickle (and unborn baby) plaster cast.

Joshua Wolens@joshuawolens· Jun 30

an important thing i just learnt is that the russian transliteration of Supergirl is the fantastically Goofy-coded 'Supergyorl'

Russian news headline: Supergyorl provalivaetsya v prokate - Warner Bros. gotovitsya k ubytkam v paione $100 millionov

Joshua Wolens@joshuawolens· Jun 24

the most Trotsky shit that ever happened

excerpt from The Bolsheviks Come to Power: ‘To help the Bolshevik cause, Trotsky agreed to defend Raskolnikov in court. In mid-July he sent a letter of protest on the Bolsheviks' behalf to the government in which he declared: "In principle, I share the views of Lenin, Kamenev, and Zinoviev. ... My relation to the events of July 3-4 was exactly the same as theirs. ... There is no logical reason for ordering that Lenin, Zinoviev, and Kamenev be arrested and not me." The government could not ignore such a challenge. Orders for the arrest of Trotsky, and Lunacharsky as well, were issued by Karin-sky's office on the morning of July 23.

Joshua Wolens@joshuawolens· Jun 18

any excuse

front cover of Alexander Rabinowitch’s The Bolsheviks Come to Power on my kindle

Joshua Wolens@joshuawolens· Jun 16

coolest kid on earth

passage from Robert Graves’ Goodbye To All That: “A boy at Penrallt called Ronny was the greatest hero I had ever met. He had a house at the top of a pine-tree which nobody else could climb, and a huge knife, made from the tip of a scythe which he had stolen; and he killed pigeons with a catapult, cooked them, and ate them in the tree-house. Ronny treated me very kindly; he went into the Navy afterwards, deserted on his first voyage, and, we were told, was never heard of again.”

Joshua Wolens@joshuawolens· Jun 11

similarly: I'm Explaining a Few Things (which I don't have in easily postable epub format)

You are going to ask: and where are the lilacs? and the poppy-petalled metaphysics ?
and the rain repeatedly spattering
its words and drilling them full
of apertures and birds?'

I’ll tell you all the news.

I lived in a suburb,
a suburb of Madrid, with bells,
and clocks and trees.

From there you could look out
Over Castille’s dry face:
a leather ocean.
My house was called

the house of flowers, because in every cranny geraniums burst: it was
a good-looking house
with its dogs and children.
Remember, Raúl?

Eh, Rafael?
Federico, do you remember

from under the ground where the light of June drowned flowers in your mouth?
Brother, my brother!

Everything loud with big voices, the salt of merchandises,
pile-ups of palpitating bread,
the stalls of my suburb of Argüelles with its statue
Like a drained inkwell in a swirl of hake:
oil flowed into spoons,
a deep baying
of feet and hands swelled in the streets,
metres, litres, the sharp
measure of life,
stacked-up fish,

the texture of roofs with a cold sun in which the weather vane falters,
the fine, frenzied ivory of potatoes,
wave on wave of tomatoes rolling down to the sea.

And one morning all that was burning,
one morning the bonfires
leapt out of the earth
devouring human beings -
and from then on fire,
gunpowder from then on,
and from then on blood.
Bandits with planes and Moors,
Bandits with finger-rings and duchesses,
Bandits with black friars spattering blessings
came through the sky to kill children
and the blood of children ran through the streets
without fuss, like children's blood.

Jackals that the jackals would despise,
stones that the dry thistle would bite on and spit out,
vipers that the vipers would abominate!

Face to face with you I have seen the blood
of Spain tower like a tide
to drown you in one wave
of pride and knives!

Treacherous
generals:
see my dead house,
look at broken Spain:

from every house burning metal flows
instead of flowers,
from eve…

Joshua Wolens@joshuawolens· Jun 11

song to the red army on its arrival at the gates of prussia

This is the song between night and dawn, this is the song
come from the last death rattles as if from the
beaten
hide of a bloody drum,
burst forth from the first joys like the flowering bough in the snow and like the ray of sunlight
upon the flowering bough.
These are the words that clutched the dying and that syllable by syllable squeezed the tears like
soiled clothes
until they dried up the last bitter drops of sobbing and made from all the weeping the hardened
braid,

the cord, the hard thread that will uphold the
dawn.
Brothers, today we can say: daybreak comes, now we can strike the table with the fist
that until yesterday upheld our tearful brow.
Now we can look at the crystal tower of our powerful snow-covered range because in the lofty pride of its snowy wings shines the stern splendor of a far-off snow where the invader's claws are buried.
The Red Army at the gates of Prussia. Listen, listen! dark, humbled, radiant heroes of fallen crown, listen! villages destroyed and laid waste and
broken,
listen! Ukrainian fields where the grain can be re-
born with pride.
Listen! martyred ones, hanged ones, listen! dead guerrilla fighters,
rigid beneath the frost with hands still clutching the gun,
listen! girls, homeless children, listen! sacred ashes of Pushkin and Tolstoy, of Peter and Suvorov, listen! on this southern height to the sound that on the gates of Prussia crashes like thunder.
The Red Army at the gates of Prussia. Where are the angered assassins, the gravediggers, where are those who hanged mothers from the fir
tree,
where are the tigers with a stench of extermin-
ation?
They are behind the walls of their own houses

waiting for the lightningstroke of punishment, and when all the walls fall
the day has come.
they will see the fir tree and the virgin come, the
guerrilla fighter and the child,
they will see the dead and the living come to judge
them.
Listen, Czechoslovaks, prepare the toughest tongs and the gallows, and the ashes of Lidice so that they may be swallowed tomorrow by the hangman,
listen, impatient workers of France, prepare your immortal rivers
so that the drowned invaders may navigate them.
Prepare the vengeance, Spaniards, behind the mountain range
and close to the coast of the burning south clean the little rusted carbine because
This is the song of the dawning day and of the ending night.
Listen to it, and from harsh suffering let the confident voice emerge
that does not forgive, and let the punishing arm not tremble.
Before beginning tomorrow the canticles of human pity
you still have time to know the lands soaked in martyrdom.
Do not raise tomorrow the flag of pardon over the cursed sons of the wolf and brothers of
the serpent,
over those who reached the last edge of the knife and demolished the rose.
This is the song of the spring

beneath the earth of Russia, beneath the expanse of the taiga and the snow, this is the word that mounts to the throat from the buried root.
From the root covered by so much anguish, from the stalk broken
by the bitterest winter on earth, by the winter of blood upon the earth.
But things change, and from the depths of the earth the new spring steps out.
Look at the cannons that flourish in the Prussian
mouth.
Look at the machine guns and the tanks that are landing at this hour in Marseilles.
Listen to the stern heart of Yugoslavia throbbing again in the blood-drained breast of
Europe.
Spanish eyes are looking toward here, toward Mexico and Chile,
because they wait for the return of their wander-
ing brothers.
Something is happening in the world, like a breath that before
we did not sense among the waves of gunpowder.
This is the song of what is happening and of what will be.
This is the song of the rain that fell upon the field like an immense tear of blood and lead.
Today when the Red Army beats on the gates of
Prussia
I have chosen to sing for you, for all the earth, this song of dark words,
so that we may be worthy of the coming light.

Joshua Wolens@joshuawolens· Jun 8

had the boys round for dinner and they all roasted me for my unisex pepper grinder

pepper grinder description from Amazon, the relevant part of which reads: "This grinder is a fantastic present for any food enthusiast, aspiring chef, or regular cook—men or women!"

Joshua Wolens@joshuawolens· May 20

today in things they let me do at work www.pcgamer.com/gaming-indus...

PC Gamer headline: Embracer Group cuts itself into pieces, this is its last resort: Bifurcation, new listing—licensing out Kain and JC Denton

Joshua Wolens@joshuawolens· May 14

'The LGBT+ community has forgiven...' meme-y Instagram post, but clumsily edited to say 'The IOI community has forgiven Joshua Wolens'

Joshua Wolens@joshuawolens· May 12

LOTR Return of the King title screen.

Joshua Wolens@joshuawolens· Apr 26

learning important vocabulary

screenshot of the 'correct' answer' pop-up from HelloChinese, showing the phrase 'Wo de nanpengyou bu shi ren' and its English translation: 'My boyfriend is not human'.

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