LETTER OF THE COSSACKS OF ZAPOROZHYE

(or the use of an old political rhetoric worth dusting off.)

" The Cossacks of Zaporozhye for the Turkish Sultan!

You - Turkish Satan, brother and fellow-robber of the accursed devil, secretary of Lucifer himself! Damn you, what kind of a knight are you, if you can't even kill a hedgehog with your bare ass? The devil shits, and your army eats it up. You are not fit for Christian sons to live under thee: we will not fear your army, we will strike you on land and sea. You Babylonian cook, you Macedonian wheel-breaker, a Jerusalem potter, an Alexandrian goat-fucker, a swineherd of Egypt the Great and the Little, an Armenian swine, a Tartar quiver, a Kamenetsk executioner, a Podolsky villain, a clown of the world and the underworld, the grandson of the viper himself, and the curve of our cocks. You pigface, you mare's arse, you butcher's dog, you unchristened dolt, so I fuck your mother. Well, that's what the Zaporozhian people said to you, you snot. You won't even herd the Christians' pigs. We'll stop now, because we don't know the date, we don't have a calendar, the moon is in the sky, the year is in the yearbook, and the day is the same as yours. For that you can kiss our asses.

Signed: Ivan Sirko regimental ataman and the entire Zaporozhye army."

(Note: translation is from a Hungarian source.)

Well, for any amount of money, we will bet that to a politically educated politician, parading in a very fine suit and a tasteful little tie, the above lines are a veritable hymn to barbarism and peasantry; such words are not presentable in any polite company.

What keep surprises our church is that the working classes, or the downright destitute, who are preyed upon by these sophisticatedly foppish people, are often of the same opinion. It is truly appalling how these robotic machines, deprived of real knowledge and opportunity, not only manage to protect these scumbags, but are almost outraged when the Church of Normalcy declares that anyone who plays politics in a tie and suit with fine words is a treasonous faggot.


This year marks the 33rd full year of regime change. It is the age of Christ, we might say, if we also want to get poofy.
During these thirty-three years, educated, sophisticated, gentlemanly, suit-and-tie politicians have completely and comprehensively destroyed the entire Hungarian manufacturing industry, foreign companies have been set up here to exploit Hungarian mineral resources, predatory banks and disgusting insurance companies
have been invited in, with a shoddy constitutional amendment, a barely majority by an insignificant minority voted us into the bloody annoying gay club called the European Union and the mockery of an union called NATO, and we even got to experience, that the speech 'marriage is the union of a man and a woman'...' came from a stupid poofter who is arrested hanging from a gutter in Brussels by better-off policemen.

And despite all this, many clever uncles and aunties still think that parliamentary work should be done in the ornamented language of these traitors, because there must be a way to do it, in a mannered, gentlemanly way.

Your whore mothers, cartoonheads! How many times do you have to hear they honey-talk about how you'll have order in two weeks (and then twelve years later you won't even dare to let your kid out at the evening in certain parts of the country) to say something pithy?

How many times will these dung beetles in confectionary suits with little points-to-cock ties will pull the rug out from under you so that you finally accept the no-poofter way of speaking? When are you going to join where you really belong - the spat on working class - instead of sucking up to the elite, who must be so educated because they have degrees. And how many of them are going to be busted with their sham degrees, and that even learning to spell is an insurmountable obstacle to them, before you realise that sucking up to them is tantamount to giving Romeo Kalányos the Nobel Prize for his scientific work on string theory because he strings a guitar?

Well, dear adherents and hopefully dyspeptic haters, the Church of Normalcy will break with this lukewarm ass-friendship, which has been promoted as the only accepted rhetoric by the political reign of these modern wastrel parvenus, and we will proudly use the political rhetoric that the Zaporozhye Cossacks famously used. Because we come from the depths and represent those who have been pushed into the abyss by such worm-like people who have regrettably avoided abortion, we cannot speak as one of them. We cannot wear suits, because we don't wear them in the factories or in the fields. We can't say that they are 'corrupt, bad people' because in the pubs we say 'these are low-life faggots'.

We follow the political rhetoric of honesty and of "what's in your heart is in your mouth", and anyone who doesn't like it can rape their father with the
handle of the biggest toilet plunger commercially available. You will learn, you parliamentary scoundrels, that the new voices will blaringly tear the rhetoric of politics' poofy mannerism to pieces, that we will throw fucking stones with mischievous sincerity into the stagnant water of public life reeking of pestilential shit, in which the elite wallow so eagerly, lest anyone should notice that their suits and ties are now full of shit and have pieces of shit shoved into them. And anyone who doesn't like it - elite uncle and aunt, clever politician and Bumba the monkey alike - can fuck their mother.


For it is not repulsive that someone is honest and does not mince his words, but it is genuinely surprising and disheartening that people are shocked by this and take up the hypocritical charade. Your whore mothers you hypocrites and elite-upsuckers!

Signed: Brother Facia Aurea, and the leadership of the Church of Normalcy.


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