The rather lurid graffiti was chosen to 'lift' the usual Russian tank green finish. My very basic Russian language skills suggest 'Stalinish' as an English transliteration. Stalin-ish - mmm, sort of Staliny ? Staliny on some days only? Sort of jokey Stalin? Fortunately, very fortunately, I can type all that without being killed or sent to the gulag for 40 years. I seem to remember that Alexander Solzhenitsyn was initially held by the NKVD in 1945 with a tank crew who had been overhead laughing at Stalin's moustache. The same moustache beloved of Picasso.
On the same theme, I bought Anne Applebaum's new book, Iron Curtain; the Crushing of Eastern Europe, 1944-1956, on Saturday. I always find it difficult to read things like that, but I will, at some point.
Enough. The question is - what is the next tanky type thing to be built. My small, accessible, stash (the rest hides in the loft) is:
A parting shot. In yesterday's Daily Telegraph (a conservative, and, to some extent Conservative British newspaper) there was a sort of interview with Roger Scruton (a conservative philosopher) which focused on his Anglicanism (membership of the Church of England). Scruton plays the organ in his local parish church, and after some interesting musings on the nature of Anglican belief, he appears to have played the reporter a favourite hymn of his - 'Come Down, O Love Divine'. The reporter, Sameer Rahim, finished his article with this, and the following reflection of his own:
'As the music plays, it feels like I'm hearing the last withdrawing notes of Scruton's England'.
Roger Scruton is 16 years older than me, but, sometimes, and too often, I feel as if I can hear the last withdrawing notes of England too.