Little Yurt on the Steppe

On the road to Cyberia I took a wrong turn and ended up on the Great Eastern Plains. Fortunately, a group of Khalkha nomads took me in and taught me the secrets of life on the steppe. Now, I sit in my yurt, eating mutton dumplings and drinking a weak milk tea as I recount my tales of this Mongolian life.

středa, dubna 28

Baltic democracy

This afternoon, while deeply engrossed in Anatol Lieven's excellent book, The Baltic Revolution: Estonia, Latvia, Lithuania and the Path to Independence, I made a fascinating discovery. In terms of democratic processes and the contesting of free elections, I belong firmly to the Estonian tradition:

The Royalist Party -- an Estonian equivalent to Poland's 'Orange Alternative' -- established as a sort of joke by a group of actors, television personalities and intellectuals, also polled 8 per cent of votes and the same number of seats. Some of the party's leaders are genuine monarchists who believe that a monarchy under a Swedish prince would help to restore Estonian traditional society and avoid vulgar competition for the top state post, but most simply want to liven the Estonian scene. (Lieven 284)

Yup, it seems that the democratic ethos with which I was imbued during my tenure as a life denizen of the People's Socialist Republic of PARC was of Estonian extraction. Creating a political party to jazz up the monotony of another election? Been there, done that.

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