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, července 7

Sound familiar?

Before me lie several issues of provincial and territorial newspapers published on the same day. Above all, one is arrested by the striking similarity of the papers. Like twins, they can hardly be distinguished from one another. If it were not for the names of the papers and the names of districts, factories and collective farms which are mentioned in them, any one of the papers could be substituted for another, and neither the reader nor the staff itself would notice.

-- From a critical survey of the Soviet press by a high official of the Central Committee's Propaganda and Agitation Department, April 1955

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