M_A_M_M_Y_L_A_N_D_

(Poetically-Prosaic, As Well

Anti-Democratic, Amalgamation)

By Ivancho Jotata, known also as:

Ochnavi Atatoj, Ivan Bugarow, Jotabash Giaurgi, Nostradamus Buladamus, and other cloning names

[ The idea for illustration is in placing of one picture in a frame under the title and the author, which has to be square and probably 450 x 450 pixels (because I use usually 525 x 725 for the cover and then multiply by 3, when necessary); on the other hand here it can be even 350 x 450 because the text is a bit longer. The picture can be made as ink sketch in one colour with some small additions with other colours. The main colour can as well be black and in it is shown an open space or park, where on the left stays one person with a big bow for shooting, and he is small (say, 1/5th of the height), then in the middle there is nothing, some grass or shrubs, and on the right, fastened to a tree, is seen small circular target (say, 1/10th of the height), painted in three colours, which, going from the periphery, are white, green, and red (in the center). These colours have to fill the circular rings and to be exactly the mentioned, because this is our Bulgarian tricolour. Plus this there are also 2 bubbles where is written (rather typed, because so has to be easier), probably with red colour, the following: "Jotata, the lonely archer", which points to the person on the left, and "The difficult target, Bulgarian barbarity", which points to the target. ]

My dear (because of your small number) readers,

I have decided in principle to stop writing under this pseudonym, because this takes too much of my time, and I have already told all what I had to tell, I have proposed even a political party, yet there is no rule without exceptions, as you know, so that after the Muse quite unexpectedly visited me, exactly at minus / plus one week around our 24-th May 2019 [what is our Day of Slavonic Culture], I decided to squeeze out of myself (in the same way like I squeeze out something else when am with some girl) everything what I can for this short interval of time, and it turned out that these happened to be about 200 poetical lines. Yeah, but poetical or not, what are so few lines for me, I don't write materials shorter than 4-5 pages, so that I decided to sprinkle them with my philosophical judgements, which sometimes become so profound, that some of you may begin to think that I have gone crazy [what in Bulgarian is derivative from saying "cuckoo"], yet this is wrong conclusion (because I will never say "cuckoo" or "crow" or the like — if it will be so necessary to say something I will rather angrily cry: "Down with the democracy, long live the reason!", or something of the kind). Well, also to have a bit of fun, of course, for the simple reason that, when I have no money, then I am in my rights to want to have at least some fun out of this. Also I don't intend to translate this material in other languages (due to the poetry) [yet later I decided that I can retell the poetry and make this only in English], so that I took the decision to write it.

OK, let me begin then with the name of our nation, or rather with our little children. [Ah, and here begins to appear heap of jargon words, which I will explain more or less, but for the citing of Bulgarian words I will need to use one widely met vowel, which is like in your "girl", and which I will mark as 'y', and with single quotes I will give the reading; also 'j' will be used for softening of the consonants, while 'h' will be for hardening, and together with this 'j' will be used for making of diphthongs (like in may-'maj'), and 'h' for prolongation of vowels; plus that the usage of 'ch, sh, zh' must be obvious.]

'BLYGARCHE'

[what is distorted from Bulgarian child in the way how some foreign people, say Chinese, pronounce it, and there exists such highly patriotic verse from our renaissance times, before about a century]

[Here follow 5 couplets by 4 lines, with the idea that I am so glad to be called Bulgarian child, how you would never believe, with really untranslatable jargons and distortions of words, where I rhyme Chinese with rabbit, the syllable 'blyg' with our wolf, then that I am so glad that as if run or fly, then that else I could have begun to curse my father for not being born myself Bulgarian because this is the ethnicity of high demand in the moment, then that there is no higher delight for me than to be called Bulgarian, and even the … bayram is nothing compared with the joy of being Bulgarian, and then in the sublime last couplet I declare that am ready to tell before everyone who wants to listen that I highly praise the … prick of my father (but leaving blank characters and guessing something silly, not naming it directly).]

Ah, as if there is noting to explain to you here, I am so glad that am Bulgarian (albeit pretty old) child, that there is nothing exceeding this my joy. Because the Chinese and the Arabs are now as if 5 %, plus at least 25 % Gypsies called Romas, and 30 % Turks called Bulgarians, what (together with some other minorities) reaches about 2/3 of our population, but in any case more than the half! Congratulations for our democratic eradication of Bulgarian essence, in the first scene of my material. For I would have accepted with pleasure some 15-20 % minorities, this enlivens the gene (this is known from immemorial times, to recall you the degeneration of some nations in the antiquity, especially amidst royal persons, because of what they marry where only they can, but far away from their court). Yet more than the half now means, that we have no rights to call us … Bulgaristan, but probably Turko-Tzigo-stan [or Turko-Gypsy-stan for you], ah, how like you this impromptu of mine? Well, it might be also Turkotzigonaria.

And don't think that I swell the percents, because somewhere till the 80-ties of the last century was said that the Turks were some 20 %, and the Gypsies around 15, but from that time on only they are those who multiply; you look around, listen, and judge for yourself. And something more to this, for the minorities there are what only not programs for their supporting, even for the Chinese (who are immensely necessary for us, I suppose), but for Bulgarians, for such starving intellectuals like me, in order to give an example, there are no supporting programs, and even the due to me pension is lessened with a whole 1/3, where from personal coefficient of 1.28 they give me in the end 0.94, as consequence of various machinations and dirty tricks — you cast a look at my Open Letter, point 1. Plus that I have pretty recently paid attention to the fact that in our country is being built a lot, but most often by … Turkish companies, which, quite naturally, will prefer Turkish workers. Not that I have bad feelings against these people, they are very dutiful and obedient, and differ almost in nothing from us in their appearance, only in their names (which are like nothing, really, i.e. neither like Western names, nor like Eastern, nor also like Northern of Southern ones, no, their language is special; we have taken many words from them, yet these were chiefly Persian words, not the core of their language).

Well, let us move then to my second poetical opus.

SINCE THE NASTY THING CAME

[ This is a pretty experimental kind of verse, it has 4 couplets with by 4 lines, with adjacent rhymes (i.e. of type AABB), but the first line of the pair ends on a shorten word, like democra-, demago-, horizo-, and the like, and without rhymes they look as follows:

Since the coming of our democracy,

Which we met with loud "Hurray",

I am feeling so transformed,

Like as if it has given me wings.

Having changed the yoke of communism

With bright democratic future,

We are now first outsiders

In the new for the people paradise.

Skillfully guided by demagogues

We do not feel our grief,

Only that who graduates emigrates,

like the birds in foreign countries.

And so shine our horizons,

Like when I have washed clean my … #ss,

And we are waiting in the near future

For the life of a free in the jungle … shebek-monkey!

]

Here I must tell you that, if you think that the verse looks little unfinished, then such is also our democracy, well begun (what isn't right, it was not well begun, but allow me to say that we have done at least something good), yet badly finished, in the sense that for 30 years it has, still, not succeeded to set itself properly by us, though sometimes this must happen, ah? Ha-ha, do you know when I think that our transition to democracy will at last end? Well, when our country … ceases to exist as such — because from a formal-logical point of view there is no way for something by us to exist, when we do not exist anymore, right?

But let me continue further, because there is much work waiting for us ahead.

FOR THE BLOSSOMING OF FRUIT TREES

[ Here the verse looks as rhyme in this way: ABBA CDDC EFFE GGG. It is said, using many jargons, the following (without rhyme):

We have blossomed and given fruits

Like a rose bush in a garden,

And are such picture for the world

That it is already a shame.

If I had thought that this is to what we are going,

That this is what everybody searches,

I would have done myself hara-kiri,

because the happiness is like smoke.

The expected freedom and dignity

Have turned to be soap-bubbles,

the poverty stuck it in the … #ss —

the shine has had its other side.

The capitalism was such a bully,

that in our situation today

would have mourned even Hercules.

]

Well, it is so, naturally. I want to say, that if I have thought sometime that the democracy and the freedom and the will of the people can turn to be such stupidity, such contradiction to the common sense, I would have become then the first communist, where I only stayed aside of the politics and have always said to myself: let them propose me to enter in the party lines, for to give me the pleasure to refute it! Ah, but the people have felt my wishes and have abstained from this, and they were right for that time, of course. Now, about this, why our democracy has turned to be such silly thing, was spoken much, and I have also done this (under my usual pseudonym), so that there is no point to distract myself with this also here. I can only mention that the people need some ruling, they are herd or flock — do not forget the ancient word for herdsman and pastor, which in the Latin is one and the same, and this person is exactly that one, who leads the herd to graze on a pasture, literally (let me cite Italian la pasta as dough, and il pasto as food). Yet our UDF (Union of Democratic Forces, SDS in Bulgarian) has done everything possible (because of subsidizing from USA, obviously, as well also because of its eager wish not to lose the "bone", when it was offered to it) to leave the masses without leaders (because they would have been communists), and as result of this our people, who above everything else have had no truly religious pastors, were and continue to be not religious, have simply begun to act silly like a … dog, that was kept for a long time tethered and then remains at once unleashed (such dog can just fall under a car, if will not get lost somewhere in the park during its walk). So that this is what happened with us, we have blossomed and given fruits, in the reversed sense!

And now let me change the theme, let me move to our barbarity, which is obvious, but which in some aspects can be taken simply for a bit special form of originality and uniqueness, what is already something characteristic for our nation. Id est, we are unique, extraordinary, with very good genes, only that are … rogues, ah? So that now comes my most difficult verse here, for which is necessary to give some explanations. Firstly this is the so called (but as if not much known) Roman triple, where are three-lines which incessantly alternate and one rhyme goes out (after the third time) and another goes in (every third time), and if we denote the ending rhymes with Latin capital letters, and leave in the beginning some reserve, it will look so: ABA-BCB-CDC-DED-EFE-… and so on. This rhyme is used at least in Roman Renaissance, by Dante (I have seen it surely by him), but probably by many other poets and earlier.

OK, but here I (probably as mathematically educated person) put it in a cycle, so that in the end it finishes (if finishes, but here it is so), e.g. as …-XYX-YAY, and if you decide now to come to the beginning then it continues, as if it must so begin, from the end! Did you get it? [The last sentence was also in the Bulgarian text.] Well, to me this variant is nice, and I try always when this is possible (if the number of lines is multiple of 6, but as if also by 3) to reach it. Yet this is not everything here, here we have one interesting acrostic, i.e. I have made my life more complicated, as much as I could do it (for else Bulgarian language is too easy for me, and as consequence pretty boring). So that enjoy it, please!

BARBARIANS, OH NO !

[I will not translate it line by line, this is too tedious for such long verse and I am not Homer, after all, to make so many efforts, but I will tell each triple (for the verse is divided in triples) in a separate sentence, or then will use "+" to join the triples in one sentence.

Oh no, we have ruined our country, but what can we do, it is in our blood(!); and a record for the democracy. Oh, how fast we have swallowed the bait, and before this we have lived a quiet life, without cares, yet when we became unleashed from the tether, + in transferred meaning of the communism, we have stepped in the mud, have reached, as sudden death, + outsider level, and have begun to jump out of it with somersaults — f#ck it! — but this was our death! The people, even when they give a moo, act silly, because have no moral, the rayah-flock sleeps, reason will rarely appear, + or then spirit, conscience, ideals(.); the human core disappeared from the humans, and this is what makes one nation whole! Albeit everybody searches, from times immemorial, the coin — naturally [what is written with your "of course" written in Bulgarian as 'yf kors', because there exists the vowel 'y' in the vertical text] —, then this is only a path, + it is a shame to heap it up like fat(.); in our life we must try, automatically, as if in awe, + to wish ourselves a heap of good things, not to seek always to catch the dough [where is used the Turkish word kelepir-gain], while we don't give a damn about the others. From here it becomes clear why we are at the end, alone at the tail of the continent, what is beggar's table, not a feast. Well, but we have opened our dam, have trampled down the communists in the dust, yeah, but the democracy is a mint! As if the vengeance did not save us, we have hardly returned our dream with this, but it is so with those who follow the stupidity.

And the long vertical message, that I offer to my readers reads: "Barbarian to be called, first joy for me is". ]

Well, what will you say about this dedication, ah? It serves such ungrateful person right to be left to starve, when possible, there are much 3 bus-tickets daily pension for him (and in the moment they are even with 2/3 tickets more than this), yet he, see, has found way to rejuvenate himself in what only way he can, due to the fact that had no money for medicians. So that my opinion, which I express in many languages, is that we are nice people, yet barbarians, or then in the reversed order, barbarians, but very good people, useful for the world, we select a wonderful gene. And if you do not like me, then do not read me, right?

But for those, who like the things that I write, I will continue further. We are coming to the theme of education, and with this to the genocide — in transferred meaning, surely, not of physical destruction, but of leaving the matters to themselves, without care, so that the people simply die (like castrated dogs, for example) —, because, as I said, I was in the vicinity of 24-th of May [what is our Day of education and culture] (which holiday, to remind you, for the reason that we like to forget very fast things that we don't like, a pair of years was officially denied by our UDF-activists, with the excuse that, see, the Russians were celebrating it, and, hence, we must in no way have something in common with this left-behind Asian country, according to them). Only that let me warn once more those, who have not yet stopped to read me, that here I think that surpass Botev [who is our greatest poet-revolutioner from the time of our last years under Turkish yoke, he died in 1876] in sarcasm, so that you better forget about me.

GO ON, PEOPLE!

[ There is our well known song, which is sung exactly on this holiday, namely "Go you people revived", for which I just give my new libretto. The rhyme is of the kind ABAB.

Go ahead, misguided people,

to your perdition go ahead,

because as nation we are broken,

and our life embittered is.

Forget, though, you about education,

for it means nothing nowadays,

you look at money, dough, bereket-win,

and God will lead you forward, straight!

Ahead, the wealthiness is sun,

the Golden Calf the name of it is,

the science is just pottery,

and your life comes to its pizdetz-end.

Well known were you, also famous,

back in the Camp of socialism,

but you are moaning now abandoned,

and are in need of money … clyster.

You the Thessalonian two brothers

in the far away past leave,

your bread with piece of meat you cover,

and education leave aside.

It's good that we betrayed have

this wear-bitten slogan old,

and substituted it with money,

with cars and homes amidst the nature.

This Slavonic script of us

has brought us only troubles,

because it stays in totally mess

with the known Latin world.

In that mournful and slave times

we had education, and what of it?

The people give no damn about this,

and have sharp eye for money only.

Because this spirit of the nation

is sheltered in the body,

and is protected and led

only by the golden coin.

Why have you, brothers, so decided

to wake up our sleeping tribe?

Because the words disturb the people,

when they are dozing, stupid they.

Flattened, crushed, by life in hunger,

followers of your vain labour,

hide ashamed their heads

and no one hears their voice.

Oh you, unfortunates not-needed,

oh you, Methodius and Cyril,

you must have rather cleansed … some toilets,

in order to be glad with crust of dry bread!

Do sink forever in oblivion,

in hatred, though not in love,

we left are with our sole barbarity,

from deep antiquity and centuries ahead!

Where it remains to clarify some not known to foreigners notions, which are 3, namely: pizdetz is Russian jargon word meaning end, demise; the two Thessalonian brothers are Methodius and Cyril, and they are the inventors of our — quite contemporary and for all nations, believe me! — Slavonic alphabet, who are the chief "actors" in the parade at 24th of May.]

Well, Ladies and Gentlemen, I somehow don't hear applause, ah? But this is not according to the rules, and who has begun to read me has to read me to the end and beyond it, if you'll please! Ah, and until I have forgotten, then the word pizdetz is Russian and not pretty cultured, but it is very popular (at the moment of writing my browser showed 11 mln meets in the Internet, if it does not lie from time to time, what often happens), and it means an end, finish, crash, nothing, i.e. I have left with a mere … naked vagina (or, then, penis, of you prefer it so). But, by Jove, we have entirely abandoned the science and education, since the coming of democracy, and not only the high education, but also the low one, so to say, this in the schools, because for some time I have given lessons in mathematics to children and about 1998, after the introducing of our Money Board, and especially after the beginning of this century, the children (in unison with their parents) have ceased to learn seriously (resp. to give money for lessons), because there is no sense to study for gathering of knowledge but for diplomas, which are given to them dutifully and civilized when they pay money for studying. This is the situation, and you alone make conclusions, whether this is related with the democracy, or with our barbarity, or with both things, or with something else.

Now, it is clear (at least for me), that everything depends on the moderation, on the middle position of the things — to remind you the emblem of pharmacies, a snake curled around a glass, where its venom is taken (i.e. that even the venom can be medicine, if in a proper dose) —, yet I doubt whether there exists a nation, which has not done exactly the opposite, has not come to extremities, just not to search for some reasonable middle point (i.e., with what the communists were necessary for our country, and not: either this or that). So that if before we have overdone a bit the things in the wish to be self-sufficient, with the help of Council for Mutual Economic Assistance, in the same way now we overdo the things in the other direction, and have abandoned at all whatever research spends leaving this to the richer countries, becoming in this way only industrial appendage of those latter (yet first) countries. And I can see that after about half of a century, probably, the things will little by little normalize, yet I can't avoid to ask myself (and to answer) the question: why was it necessary to waste the life of 1-2 generations of people, who have worked in the name of bright communist future, and now also the life of another 1-2 generations, who are already working hard (again) in the name of bright (but this time) democratic future?

Because there is not big difference between the both things: just like the communism has turned to be utopia, in the same way the democracy in its idealized form (of panacea for whatever situations) is also utopia, which we, i.e. the young now, who are working for the democracy, will not live to see it! Yeah, but how else could have been possible for some right-wing political circles to raise their actions, because this, that the left-wing is right, is felt by everybody (every religion aims at uniting of the population — look at my "Communionismo"), but much more interesting and lucrative is to insist that the right-wing is right, and that everybody, if he only wishes — play and win, isn't it? — can reach the top (look, for example, how it happens in USA). Though, besides this "yes", there is one "yes but no", because between the two extreme positions, here between investing funds for not-needed (and outdated) scientific researches, only in order to be able to hit our breasts and boast that "we have also given something to the world" [what is a known citation from our 19 century renaissance], and the total abandoning of even amateurish scientific researches or simply educated children and nation, because we have no money for this, there is a difference; in the first (communist) variant we heave ourselves in our own eyes, while in the second ("democratic") variant we are becoming a laughing stock for the whole Europe and from there for the world.

So that I don't spit without reasons, and this is felt by all those who emigrate from our country; and there is a difference between fight with natural or objective difficulties, and fight with the unjustified arrogance and thick-headedness of some new-riches. Or: there is a difference between misunderstood (up to some extent) care for the whole nation (on the level of bad quality), and the total lack of such care for those, who have not the needed money to pay for it, what I have called, and continue to call, anti-people's (because we did not like the people's one) democracy! Let me stress one more time, that the paid education and medical care, in principle, is inhuman, this is discrimination of some circles of population, such thing by us has not existed earlier, and it is high time that this does not exist further, because it is one thing to pay something extra for additional luxuries (like staying in elite, were it healthcare or educational establishments), and another thing not to be able to pay for, e.g., dental prosthesis, or ulcer surgery, or something else!

But I have not yet finished, so that let me continue with the spitting on our, generally speaking, morality, this time, i.e. on its lack, because the morality is traditionally carried by the religions, where we are country of giaours and unbelievers, in the sense of non-believing people (yet wide away from convinced atheists, like myself, for example, because for this are necessary decent brains). The next verse is something like parody in renaissance style, i.e. like try to cause the next revival (but not like lure used by some left away from lucrative posts politicians [what example we have — party called Alternative of Bulgarian Revival]).

MY FOOLISH PEOPLE

[ The verse consists of 10 couplets by 4 lines. rhymed as AABB, but is full with jargon words, so that I will give some nearest possible meaning.

Ah, my people, now free, will you further sleep?

Why do you not wake up and cleanse a bit the scene?

Why don't you grab our politicians by the collars,

and don't beat the dust out of them like straw mats?

Because the country stays thirty years on one place.

this is seen without analyzing, with naked eye,

and our politicians are known scoundrels —

they cheat and lie, but the state's coach does not move.

We were before the most honoured by the Russians,

but now our "cream" has flown to everywhere.

And we are outsiders from the whole Europe —

as if our rulers are brainless pumpkins!

We have reached nearly nine millions,

and now the cab is full with only seven.

And not only we as nation are pinch of people,

but the minorities multiply as if they … fart.

We have obliterated the learned — why have they learned? —,

and are bringing up now new wealthy litter.

Only that, spiritually poor, we are disappearing.

It seems we have overdone with the profanation.

We have no morality, because to be taught by communists

we don't agree, we look at them as at … intestinal worms.

But why have we come to this disastrous situation,

for which there as if is no remedy?

Our country needs only social measures,

but we reject them as … anal clysters.

We want that the wealth only to wealthy persons goes,

and because of this have come to a dry valley.

So that it is necessary that food, medicaments, learning,

are accessible to really all common people.

Where to us this seems strange, how is it possible?

Should not only the money make the world go round.

Thanks God that we have saved our gene in decent countries,

because our, as is seen, will soon fall down.

Let us help the world with something,

though, if you ask me, this is a shame.

I think that in the power of money

the devil's finger stays, for it is blah-blah thing.

Without morality and brains one becomes disgraced,

but I still like these foolish people!

]

Ah, here also the sarcasm of Botev swells in me, but what can I do, when I too, like him "confess the single and shining communism", not that of the communists, neither of the socialists (who are not even socialists), but that idealized from the time of Marx, which communism has pretty much evolved by me in my party Napuk (as well also under another pseudonym of mine has also to be met somewhere). And this, that the minorities multiply at a faster pace, is true, like also the constatation of our Aleko Konstantinov that all politicians are 'maskari'-scoundrels, and everything else. Generally, I think even that it is about time for somebody at a high place to close me in some "hot" place, how we say, in the prison. What, I suppose, will not be so bad for me, because this is as if the only place where one lives like under the communism (or vice versa, according to the right-wing activists, what I, up to some extent, do not deny), i.e. they will feed me, and send me to medical examination, and I will find time for some collection of poems, given as example, and, most of all, I hope that during that time my pension will not be stopped! Because now I out of about 90 Euro monthly save only about 20, but I need some "coins" for plumbing repairs, due to the fact that for some time (as if already 5 years or so) I have no sink in the kitchen and use this in the bath for everything (also as pissoir).

Not that I complain, because under such circumstances I simply take cares for my health, I make daily by 5-6 kilometers, especially when I cook something, or water my spices on the terraces (because the flowers are not good for … eating I grow my own spices), and when there is for what me to curse the democracy I raise my self-esteem somehow, you have to know. I could have paid to a plumber, I have some savings (as jobless for half a century, ha-ha, yet I have), but I find it really a shame to pay for one day work of one person nearly whole monthly pension (of former research assistant of Bulgarian Academy of Sciences). And as result of this I all the time postpone this repair. But I have to do it sometimes because I intend to bestow my home to some educational establishment or institute, and it is quite racked. So that with this pension for half an year prison I will save one thousand levs [divide by 2 to get it in Euro], for whole year — 2,000 lv [or 1,000 Euro], and if they slap me 3-4 years then it will remain something probably for external renovation and new windows, what will only please me.

Good, but it is now time to finish, so that I am going to the last verse, this time with the title of the whole material, and in this case it is right to tell you why I have coined this word [because it does not really exist in Bulgarian]. Ah, but why must it always be fatherland? In the era of emancipation it is proper to speak about mammyland, just so how it is spoken about mother (and not father or, eventually, daddy) language. Besides I like this word, because it comes from a beautifully sounding Rodopean [this is a mountain in south-east of Bulgaria] 'majcho'-mammy (they have one folks song which begins with "Buy me, 'majcho' armagan-present" [and, if fact the title of the material is so called because mammyland in Bulgarian will be 'majchovina']), and it is also more interesting in this way. There is no necessity of further preliminary explanations here [but for Bulgarians, who know pretty well out revival song "Nice is you, my fatherland"]..

MAMMYLAND

[ And here I, naturally, parody this song, in order to make it sound more contemporary for our democratic times.

Nice is you, my fatherland,

your name is sweet, you are paradise,

yet why then to run away

I want from this region?

I like our mountains,

on the North and on the South,

yet I have lost my teeth,

and also often eat garbage.

I love, no question about,

this my weird nation,

yet, in order to … spare the bullet,

I write as lightning conductor [of my hatred].

Till the Sun is shining brightly,

and until I am alive and well,

I will hate the pumpkin heads,

and will see to my … prick being hard.

]

Well, my dear few (because you have to be at least a pair of millions) readers (and I barely gather a pair of thousands on a site for an year), with this I intend to end at all my writing of political materials, which I had never thought to write, but the solidary blockade, which all, I repeat all, official instances in Bulgaria have directed to me, just made me ambitious (in the similar way how the high prices of cigarettes have long ago forced me to give up smoking, and a heap of other examples) to make the only possible thing, to find as wider as possible auditorium for this Letter of my, or to try to give myself publicity. As simple as that. I hoped in this way to cause some public debates for the painful problems, which I only hinted in my letter, but when we will work according to the [Bulgarian] saying: "you speak to him but he only chews further", then I have evolved alone these ideas, as far as I could in 1-2 years. Who wants can make his conclusions, but who does not want — then not to make them.

And the instances, really, were all our official, to which I managed to get, like, I enumerate: the Parliament, separately 3-4 leading parties, the very NSSI [the Social Security Institute], the President, 4-5 leading newspapers, 2-3 leading TV stations, the same amount of radio stations, and also some leading Churches. The effect was zero. As a result of this from one single material my works under this name grew with whole 30 (thirty), and quite decent in their length, and this in 4 languages, and at a dozen sites abroad (but not a single in Bulgaria, because we haven't even this, we have not a single free site, where you go and publish what you want and nobody wants even a dime from you). Yet, as I said, this is enough, no more politics (unless I will be forced to write, with some next "democratic" silly act).

I have only one small idea for something funny, and because I, by all evidences, am so unique I doubt whether somebody else will succeed to beat me and take my idea (and even if he does, then I will somehow manage to overtake him), I can mention it now. It will be called "New Bulgarian Name List", and will contain many, at least a pair (and even better if 5 to 10) thousand names, which will sound funny like names, even if they exist otherwise as words. And, naturally, not only Bulgarian, but I will naturalize them as Bulgarian. For example [what does not sound good in English but I want to give the idea]: Carroten, Pissuaria, Cordela-ribbon, Profanariy, Goodey, Scrotumarius, Ergo, Prostesa, Influenza, and many-many others. Only that this will probably take whole year for me, and because I have plans for the next 5 years, then this will hardly appear before a pair of years. When I must make some image for myself, in order to be read by the people, just so, incidentally, and the school children, when learning about Ivancho Jotata [because he is literary hero, let me remind you this], then there are no problems, only that I need time, but, on the other hand, we all are moving in the time (and the time is also supposed to be in us).

[And here follows a farewell 5-line, that is funny enough because all 5 lines end on '-oj', and says about the following: Bye-bye my people now, and if you want to make me hero, then hurry up a little, because I all the time emit a swarm of thoughts.]

May. 2019

P.S. My dear readers, honest to God, albeit I don't believe in Him, yet I have never come to the thought to add something more to this so well finished little material, with fivefold rhyme at the end. But what can I do — I don't know whether this is because of this changeable weather, or of atmospheric electricity, or of good food (I have luck lately with the fruits and vegetables, because have discovered two adjacent green-grocers, where their owners closing the shops leave some fast spoiling things outside, so that I take something sometimes) — yet just so, suddenly and out of the blue, as is said, one morning I have awoken pregnant with one new idea. And when one gets pregnant (the brides must support me in this) he (although usually she) begins to search where to load his burden, and even before this he /she begins to ponder whether to carry the "fruit" to the end or to abort. Well, I rarely make aborts, to tell you, so that I decided to carry this "fruit", and even to evolve it as much as possible (because I could have finished with only 3-4 couplets). And in this way, little by little, they became whole 10 couplets, and even by 7-lines, so to say as splitting of first two lines of a Limerick (because I am very fond of such verses), though they can be taken also for 5-lines with double rhymes in the beginning. So that here is my new pearl, again in well tempered style with brightly expressed Botev's sarcasm.

BEECH HEADS

[The rhyme here is ABABCCB and I will write each couplet in a separate sentence (and if there are several sentences in it I will join them with ";"). Ah, and this is again parody of one Bulgarian 19 century revival song, addressed to Bulgarian young brave boys, heroes, 'junatzi', who are changed here to 'bunatzi' as good for nothing, clumsy!

Ah, Bulgarian 'bunatzi'-clumsy-guys, we as if still sleep, and don't want to overcome this dreadful democracy; or then go away from here in the name of the … gene, because we have nothing else left, it is destroyed; but just not to stay meek as sheep and say nothing.

Ah, my 'kalpazani'-clumsy (again) guys, isn't it enough to continue to divide us(?); we grow fat like … melons in a field; yet the goal, the ideal is missing, because the democracy is blah-blah; can't we really unite us?

Ah, misguided people, where did disappear the glowing light(?); you do just like me, you make your own light(!); in spite of the higher oligarchy you walk your soul in the garden of shining national future!

Ah, people-unbelievers, the wealth is surely a sin(!); be careful with souls like empty bellows; do not boast with shining cars or with girls with silicon tits; you think so: what have I sown after me?

Ah, brother lulled to senselessness, you think about the others; only in this way you will be glorified in the eyes of the others; the money can sometimes bring glory, but rarely, and not in this country; it is goal for juvenile wretches.

Ah, pitiful egoists, for our society are you like … intestinal worms(!); some people work, another only suck, if they can find somewhere gain — from the bottom and to the kings chair.

Ah, my good for nothing guys and girls, how I hate that moment, when we all in flocks have pulled down the old totalitarian machine, in order to get … stuck in the democratic gully, what was slap on our snout!

Ah, my smart #sses, who lie how we can, we still suffer of this, alas my people; we have all taken the right-wing idea, but it is hot air, smoke and dust, where is it(?); yet we don't want left-handed in our lines.

Ah, dear … silly brats, I feel ashamed for you; you as if were hit with paving stones — bam(!); and you have lost all your brains, but under the bad Tosho (i.e. Todor Zhivkov) it was better; am only I between you with brains here?

Ah, silly Bulgarians, you just act on the contrary ('napuk') to all left- and right- wing, you search the middle(!); if we do not somehow pacify both poles we will never live in abundance; are the heads of all of you made out of beech wood?

]

June. 2019

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Last addition: Yeah, but because after pondering for sometime I decided that it won't be nice on my part to leave all my "dear" not friends but surely enemies — Parliament, President, etc. — uninformed about these unsurpassed achievements of mine in the field of spitting against entire Bulgarian democracy, from the head to the feet, so to say, then I came to the conclusion, that this time, too, I have to send them by a single little email, only that without attachments and somewhere in the eve of "Cyril and Methodius", because the topic of my material here is the genocide of Bulgarian intellectuals, which topic I have slightly hinted in my first enormous Letter, but have not evolved it with such poetical inspiration, so that I decided to write in time also the emails, again for 3 consecutive years, how they have taught me, i.e. forced me, with their silence.

Because, as you know, scalded by the porridge blows on it [there is such Bulgarian proverb], and when I now know that they will not utter even a single word for their justification, and I will be forced to remind them again several times, then it is better if I will hang something on the Internet, not to change the material until the Second Coming, because else 3 times by a pair of days is clear loss of time, in order to search where I have published the material and in what format, and to add something; the time is not something what one on 70 years has in his disposition, more so if he does not belong to himself but to the posterity, and has the responsible task to ashame our 'maskari'-scoundrels, so that I decided that it is better to make all at once. Well, the grammatical tenses will be mixed a bit, as when I am speaking about the past and when about the future, but when one addresses his possible readers such discrepancies in time always happen, so that you just do not give a damn about this. So that is, there follow 3 emails, and the addresses (actual at February 2019, with possible corrections if need be) are the following:

infocenter@parliament.bg, priemna@president.bg, noi@nssi.bg, SocDelovodstvo@sofia.nssi.bg

pr@gerb.bg, bsppress@bsp.bg, presscenter@dps.bg,

presscenter@sds.bg, centrala@ataka.bg, dsb@dsb.bg,

press@168chasa.bg, tgeneva@duma.bg , ggeorgiev@duma.bg,

info@dnes.bg, agency@standartnews.com, monitor@monitor.bg,

trud@trud.bg, editors@capital.bg, pensioneribg@abv.bg ,

politics@segabg.com, economics@segabg.com, society@segabg.com

news@bnt.bg , btvpr@btv.bg , office@tv7.bg , gledam@bnt.bg,

newsroom@bnr.bg , hristobotev@bnr.bg ,

synodicalchancellery@abv.bg , info@grandmufti.bg , sofia.synagogue@gmail.com ,

(returned: agency@standartnews.com, ggeorgiev@duma.bg, tgeneva@duma.bg)

— — — — —

First email: sent on 20 May 2020 to the above addressee

Subject: New work of resurrected Ivancho Jotata

Hello, my dear non-friends,

Allow me first to congratulate you on the upcoming holiday of Bulgarian intellectuals, which day becomes more and more actual with the diminishing of the number of these persons in Bulgaria. You may not be exactly of those people, and may not have rolled up your sleeves to conduct this genocide on purpose, yet you contribute to this, obviously, so that on the background of democratic simplicity is even more necessary to trumpet on the left and the right that you honour very much these intellectual persons, but what can one do when they are so weak and whimsical.

And I congratulate my enemies because this is the message of our Christ the Saviour (although it isn't clear how and with what exactly He has saved us, because we are just the same thickheads, more or less, yet this is how all call Him, so that me, too), and in addition to this myself alone is result of your active NON-INTERFERENCE in the raised by me questions, so that you are also my own parents, if I can use this expression, and I owe you a little "filial" love.

Enough as introduction, let me catch now "the bull by the horns" and move to the goal for this my little email. Though I, in fact, want this time NOTHING from you, not in the least, I simply want to inform you about my next and always more unsurpassable, and this time in prosaic and poetical plan, and hanged already on more than a dozen sites around the world (albeit only in Bulgarian this time [what now is a wrong statement, because I have done also English adaptation], alas), material in relation with our education and culture, because of which I bother you precisely on the eve of this holiday. Yet, you see, firstly the holiday is not entirely come, so that I do not disturb you at the table, right? And secondly — or maybe on the contrary, the second goes first, and the first is second, ha-ha — I have promised that I will not disturb you more, but this was around the hanging of Levski [end of February], and then I have spoken about questions like: our image, our incomparable misery, going to pension, and similar things, while now I am speaking specially about the intellectuals, to whom I think that still belong.

So that I write to you but I do not bother you, because, as I said, I want nothing from you. And I will even not send you the material in question, because it is not addressed to you, you simply carry the responsibility for this mournful condition of us (but you could always wash your hands with something, surely, you would have not occupied such responsible posts if could have not been able to squeeze some lie, when necessary). Ah, yes, it is called "Mammyland", what in my view is quite correct homological image of fatherland, because we live in the era of emancipation, so that I have made also this terminological contribution in this case. In order to come to the material you need only to write in your browser in quotes one of the following names:

Ivancho Jotata, Ochnavi Atatoj, Ivan Bugarow, Jotabash Giaurgi, Nostradamus Buladamus, or respectively in Bulgarian, and probably some other variant.

Only that it is necessary not to forbid your browser to search abroad, because I am not published in Bulgaria, as you know (by us I am the black sheep and can not pluck even a stem of grass somewhere, beh). Well, I, naturally, don't say that you have to do this, that you must begin now also to read me, no, but if you want then you can do this, and would have been able to appreciate up to what extent my style has changed from my harmless first Letter, for about 3 years, and due exactly to your personal not paying attention to an intellectual, only because he raises awkward questions, and can't be deluded with some democratic tall stories and inventions.

So this is, Ladies and Gentlemen, nice holidays, and I will remind you again about me (and again not wanting anything from you — because you can't now show yourself in worse light that you have already done this, so that there is no need to give you this chance) after an year and a day.

Bye-bye.

Your Jotata-Atatoj

— — — — —

Second email: sent on 21 May 2021 to the former addressee

Subject: New work of resurrected Ivancho Jotata

My dear not well-wishers,

This is again me, your Jotata-Atatoj, whom you do not at all like, and because of this our feelings are mutual. Happy coming Cyril and Methodius, nice bite and drink, as it has to be, and the intellectuals — ah, why did they study so much, nobody has hit them on the head to do this, right?

How you have understood already the previous year I want nothing from you (because when I want, then you do just nothing), I only GIVE, especially with my "Mammyland" I create cheerful mood among the people, and fill them with pride that they are not of those, who have studied much, like some of us, who now have pension in amount of 1/3 minimal salary. In other words, I am joking, I'm making fun of official representatives of Bulgarian democracy, but, like there is a saying, I am returning according to what I have received [what was the call, such is the response]. So that, if you want, search Ivancho Jotata / Ochnavi Atatoj / etc., and if you don't want then don't search, but Mammyland is a nice name, and I hope that 'blygarian' children (now predominantly Arabian and Chinese, I suppose), when they come to the literary hero Ivancho Jotata, will come also to his resurrected namesake, the democratic dissident (made such by our democratic reality and its "pillars", because nothing happens without reasons).

In any case, if I was in your shoes, as the English say, I wouldn't have bothered at all about this cockooed old man, because he neither begs properly (for the reason that the weak must beg the strong, not vice versa, the strong to be made to comply with the weak), nor does it matter whether he was right or wrong (for the reason that under the democracy is important to lull the populace with something, to delude it, in order not to come later to some GULAGs or Belenes [this was Bulgarian notorious prison in early communist time]). So that, carry on brave, Gentlemen!

Bye-bye, till you hear again from me, after one year and one more day, and nearer to the Cyril and Methodius day, or like Jotata likes to express himself in his second emails

[And here follows the farewell verse from the second email of his first Letter, which says roughly: Bye-bye and don't cry, Jotata will be well, only Bulgaria will cry mournfully.]

— — — — —

Third email: sent on 22 May 2022 to the former addressee

Subject: New work of resurrected Ivancho Jotata

Ladies and Gentlemen, it's again me, your hateful Ivancho Jotata [in English also in the original],

For third and last time I remind you to get acquainted with the epoch-making poetic and prosaic material "Mammyland" by democratic decident:

Ivancho Jotata, Ochnavi Atatoj, Ivan Bugarow, Jotabash Giaurgi, Nostradamus Buladamus, or respectively in Bulgarian, and probably some other cloning variant of the name.

If not for other reasons, then at least because your children may begin to ask you, but who is this new Jotata, and how you can endure such demo-blasphemer? Yet there is nothing bad for you, because when you have endured me till this time, then the worst has already gone, for the reason that I insist only three times, I behave in the same way also with the girls, although one will not say so looking at me with my 70 years and a bit more on my back. I have even immortalized this in the following haiku:

[If a girl does not want to allow me / then my semen will pour on another place / because wrong is who thinks that I am gay.]

— — — — —

That's it, ah? In this way I have already filled dozen little pages, in order not to be ashamed of myself even dreaming. And from the mentioned instances, which do not pay whatever attention at me and become cause for my, if not current, then at least future popularity, and for the strengthening of our bad image (when they don't give a damn — at a highest level, I have in mind, — about it), I feel as if most sorry about the President, who becomes in this case, so to say, guilty without guilt, because he, naturally, carries no direct responsibility, but then, standing with those who ignore me, he just soaks in the mud to the ears. But what can be done, that's the democracy: when there is no supreme instance which has to carry the responsibility for all failures, neither there is morality incorporated in the very ruling, then it remains only the possibility to draw our conclusions in the most vulgar way, via mockery with various forms of irony and sarcasm. Which I use in the most active manner in my "Mammyland" in question, so that I avail myself of the opportunity to thank in absentia to our immortal Chisto Botev for the nice examples, that he has given me.

Again Jotata, and now already August 2019

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Сконвертировано и опубликовано на https://SamoLit.com/