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Accetto Chudi

January 21st 2024

by Matteo F.M. Sommaruga



While sitting in the hotel room, I switched on the TV. It is also a tool I have never got acquainted with. When I was still living, it still did not exist. Even if the scientists of the time were still arguing about the chance to develop a solution for transmitting signals that could have been interpreted as images and animated pictures. I was still shocked by the power of the cinema and enjoyed the masterpieces of Sergeij Eisenstein. He depicted so well the vibrant moments of th eRevolution and he was such a powerful instrument of propaganda. Even after my strange resurrection,, I went to a cineclub, quite well renowned in Zurich for screening old movies. Hollywood movies did not produce the same effects on me. Perhaps I lack the cultural background, perhaps my frequent travels outside Russia have not made me a man of the world, because such voyages were aimed to convince me further of the marxist leninist doctrine. I am not even satisfied with what I watch on the television. Most of the programs are so stupid that perhaps only a poor soul as Stalin could enjoy them. However there was a nice concert, broadcasted by a White Russian channel, with the Red Army Choir singing Christmas Carols. There is a lot of paradox in that. Beginning with the fact that the country called White Russia is now the strongest fortress of Marxism-Leninism in the whole of Europe and the Western world. The other point is that, while my political successors are defending Christian traditions, their opponents are doing their own best to destroy the legacy of the Bible. Perhaps they have just become blind to prosperity and they now believe to be so powerful to be able to remove any moral constraint from their life. I wish they will not accomplish their goal, or they will end up like me.



The art dealer


The business is not going so well. I have missed some good purchases and invested in the wrong artists. Yet, it is a similar situation to gamble in a casino, in Vegas for instance. You begin with some good bets, then you lose all the final and decisive games. At the end you find yourself without money and you need to leave. It is what is going to happen to me. I have been left with two sets of artworks. With one I should cover some of the effects of my erratic taste. The other one that will provide me no profit at all, but condemn me to failure instead. I need some relaxation and it would be better to pay a visit to the Tate Modern. It is the place where I had my first contact with David Hockney. It happened years ago and I was just disgusted, because of a gay love portrayed by the great artist. I now recognise his value despite his private life, but I hope that artists will respect my personal values as well. Once I have given a stop to my current activity or written THE END on the Internet Site, I would like to take part in the political debate. My boss on the contrary, while mentoring me about the failure of the business, forgiving me for all my mistakes, will retire. He says he is affluent and old enough to do that. I was walking about the museum to look for some new inspiration and suddenly I got introduced to a certain Outi Pieski. The name is unknown to me and perhaps I am also misspelling it. However her art is inspired by the traditions of the Suomi people. The colours that she adopts are those of the tundra or that mostly contrast with the white landscape of the polar circle. Perhaps she needs some representative in London and I could become the chosen one.



The consultant


It is now clear the reason for my strange inheritance. Vladimir Ilitch Lenin had somehow trusted my grandad and my family with the key to his survival along the century. My uncles, whom I have always reputed to be fanatical leftists, sometimes mentioned to me a mission that my family should accomplish. They also repeated that I had been selected to bring further the glory of the Red Army, of the Soviet Union, of the Communist Party wherever the current odds could make it similar to a desperate task assigned to a kamikaze. I preferred to study economics instead and dedicate myself to the glory of capitalism. Even my father never believed too much about their strange prophecy; however on the point of passing away, he consigned me the book underlying his enormous power. I now understand I need to get it back, whatever it could cost. If I am not able to purchase it, then I will steal it. However I used the money from the sale to open a bank account in cryptocurrencies. Thanks to the increase of over 70% of the whole value of my portfolio, I suppose I could still make a good offer and secure a good budget for any expense that I will sustain by travelling to Moscow. At that point of time, perhaps, I will ot even need to have  any valuable asset at my advantage. On the verge of a new Red Revolution, private property shall be confiscated and I will find myself with reasonable means to satisfy my needs. My former colleagues in the consultancy will contribute to my needs according to their possibilities. I will take the train to Zurich tomorrow and will be back to Hirzel at the latest in the afternoon.


social social social print

In Frankfurt like Heidi, in Zuerich like Lenin

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