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Post by Victoria Thistle on Apr 22, 2005 19:07:52 GMT -5
After the speech, there is some time for questions. The St. Petersburg audience seemed more interested in what I had to say than the Helsinki one.
"What is your party's position on the issue of abortion?" an older woman in the crowd asks me.
"Right or wrong, it is not the government's place to decide. We are against all government funding for or against abortion. We believe this is a matter of personal freedom and we are against anything that hampers an individual's choice in this matter. In short, this is an issue that the government needs to stay out of."
I answer a few more questions about the environment and education then leave. I head out for a walk.
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Post by kurt on Apr 22, 2005 19:08:31 GMT -5
I get up out of my sleeping space (the floor), and see that Antero is playing Mario 3 over me. I sit up, tugging on his controller cord in the process, and unplugging it.
"Ahh, what time is it..?"
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Post by Dead Character on Apr 22, 2005 19:11:42 GMT -5
"It's 3pm and I don't work today." Antero replies, a little upset that the game got unplugged.
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Post by kurt on Apr 22, 2005 19:18:20 GMT -5
"Cool..." I slowly get up, taking the controller with me.
"Man do I have the munchies. I need to get out for awhile, go for a walk or something."
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Post by Dead Character on Apr 22, 2005 19:23:43 GMT -5
"We could all like, go out to eat or something." Antero suggests.
"We could go out for chinese. That would be good."
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Post by Mikhael Nadyezhda Kirsanov on Apr 22, 2005 19:29:54 GMT -5
I sit in a quiet, hypnotized haze, until the silence is shattered, or more accurately, a window. A door is kicked open. Gunshots.
One of the bullets whizz through the door, harmlessly hitting the wall behind me, I'm blindfolded, so I don't really know how close it was, but close enough to give me a near heart attack.
After less than a minute, everything calms down, and I overhear people speaking in Russian. The door opens.
"He's in here, fuck, you almost killed him." "Sorry... How was I supposed to know he was in the closet??"
They peel off my blindfold, and to my horror, I see about a dozen dead Syrians scattered on the floor. I have seen countless dead bodies of all nationalities, yet these hit home harder than any of the others. My heart begins to pound, and I'm completely dumbfounded, seeing them like this. "Hey, hey, you okay?" "You almost fucking hit him, of course he's not okay..." "Oh come on, you can't tell me that he hasn't been shot at before."
The men continue to bicker as they untie me, and pull me to my feet. As I see the soldiers walk over the dead Syrians, I feel an immense sense that something is wrong. It shouldn't have had to end this way. I should have died. They were supposed to kill me. They- "Hey." A man says, slapping me across the side of the head. "You comin?"
I nod, and follow them outside to where I'm driven away in a humvee.
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Post by Shurochka Kropotkin on Apr 22, 2005 20:13:10 GMT -5
The plane lands in St. Petersburg. I get out after a painfully long departure process, and get my car out of long term parking. I drive to a local cafe that I happen to like a lot, order a raspberry white chocolate mocha, and sit down, contently reading the newspaper.
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Post by Victoria Thistle on Apr 22, 2005 20:15:05 GMT -5
"Rasberry White Chocolate Mocha? What kind of drink is that? Someone has a sweet tooth." I say as I order a regular coffee. I don't use cream or sugar. I don't use sugar on anything actually.
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Post by Alejos H. Coy IV on Apr 22, 2005 20:15:50 GMT -5
"Blech. Pineapples and pizza should not cross paths," Alejos says, almost as if putting pineapples on pizza was sacrilege. "Pizzas need meat, and lots of it."
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Post by Shurochka Kropotkin on Apr 22, 2005 20:19:00 GMT -5
"A really good dri-" I look up and notice who it is.
"Ah, um, hey... Your name is Victoria, right?" I ask, politely. I agree with her on some things, but she can really get on my nerves. Nevertheless seeing someone who's been on TV has somewhat star struck me.
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Post by Victoria Thistle on Apr 22, 2005 20:20:30 GMT -5
"That's correct. So either your a Libertarian or a dog show fanatic. Most people don't know me outside of those circles."
I look the man over.
"No, you don't look like either. So then, who are you?"
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Post by Sakari Lehtinen on Apr 22, 2005 20:21:59 GMT -5
"Oh don't get me wrong, I like meat, I just think pineapple and pizza is a match made in heaven." Sakari replies, picking the pieces of pineapple off of Alejos's plate.
"Meat can get overbearing too."
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Post by Shurochka Kropotkin on Apr 22, 2005 20:24:35 GMT -5
I smile.
"I guess you could call me a left wing libertarian. My name's Shura." I say, extending my hand. She's friendlier than I remember her being on television.
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Post by Victoria Thistle on Apr 22, 2005 20:27:44 GMT -5
"I see. I've been meeting all sorts of interesting people lately. The other day it was a nihilist and now an anarchist."
I actually don't feel hostile towards him. We want similar things, just different reasons behind them and outcomes as the result of them.
"Let me sit down with you. I'm awefully bored. Tell me something interesting."
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Post by Shurochka Kropotkin on Apr 22, 2005 20:32:28 GMT -5
"Please do." I say, bowing my head.
"Well, I just got back from France, and funny that you should mention nihilists, since I just went there with one." I begin. "He went off somewhere, and I started out looking for him. He left a message on my voice mail that was something to the effect of 'don't look for me, not like you'd care to anyways'. What's up with nihilists?"
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