2.19 Planet of Pink Ponies

Love this podcast?

Support this show through the A-Cask supporter feature.

It's up to you how much you give,

and there's no regular commitment.

Just click the link in the show description to support now.

This episode is brought to you by Progressive Insurance.

Do you ever think about switching your insurance companies

to see if you could save some cash?

Progressive makes it easy.

Just drop in some details about yourself

and see if you're eligible to save money

when you bundle your home and auto policies.

The process only takes minutes,

and it could mean hundreds more in your pocket.

Visit Progressive.com after this episode

to see if you could save progressive

casualty insurance company and affiliates.

Potential savings will vary, not available in all states.

Greetings comrades, and welcome to another episode

of The Eastern Border.

I'm your host, Christophe Sandresons.

First I'd like to mention that since the last episode

because I took a small break to do some countries

I'd work over here and there.

Well, we found out that there was a bit of an outbreak

in this foot of now disease over there in Russia.

However, that doesn't make the situation better.

In fact, it makes it worse since Russia actively tried to

downplay the whole event.

And at the same time, you can't let a good crisis go unsolved.

So, well, this is called theory about

how the big meat was trying to use this to their own advantage.

Oh well, that's still very much applies.

They just, well, took this thing

and they needed to hide the foot of mouth disease

and then they used it to their full advantage.

Because, well, like I said, you can't go.

You can't let a good crisis to go unused.

That's number one.

Number two, yeah, I was just quite burnt out

in the middle of the month.

So, I took about a week off.

Did a bit of a weird research gathering stuff

which was interesting since

I think I helped spot the ship.

We have a whole situation there.

Like, find one of those, you know,

ship finding things using AI.

We accidentally built on a genetic network on my PC

and fed it to a lot of data for analysis

and to pull out stuff from insane amounts of Excel spreadsheets

and then some data popped up.

And it was interesting.

But we'll know how that turns out later.

It was quite stunning.

We filed the report.

It was just amazing.

But with all this in mind,

I was about to go back to these episodes

because I have a lot of material.

I'm going to be more incoming very soon.

But, well, let me just paint you a picture

of how this episode actually began.

You see, last night I was standing on my own yard there.

Very deep, laughing in the country.

So, 22 kilometers from Russia.

And I was outside drilling some socialics

and joined the absolute peace of a spring evening

when my inevitable phone just suddenly erupted.

It wasn't the next message or anything.

It was the official orange alert

from the Latvian National Armed Forces.

The message was blunt.

Threaten the airspace.

They covered immediately.

Call one, one, two, if you see a low-fly object.

Yeah, ground threats.

Very nice.

So, we grabbed David to grab the dog

and moved straight into the safe spot of our house

because, well, when you've experienced what I've seen

and when you live 22 kilometers from the border,

this weird collapsing empire,

yeah, you don't take chances.

You don't go outside to film the sky for TikTok

or something, you get the safety.

And, sure enough, while we were sitting in the dark

waiting for the all-clear,

well, social media started lighting up with unverified footage

of massive fireballs erupting over the tree line,

somewhere out in the dark Latvian woods.

And people say that, you know,

it's not been re-ealent to know this stuff,

but I don't know.

People went a bit crazy.

However, think about the sheer terrifying absurdity

of that for a second.

The Russian military machine has degraded

to such a pathetic functionally-brained state

that there's crap metal.

Well, bleeding over in NATO line.

Well, at least could be.

I don't know.

This might be just a Ukrainian drone

that was flying to his targets,

but still, it wouldn't be surprised either way.

And over here, over here might as well be Russia too,

after all, we're so close.

However, if it's Russia, then,

then it's the level of incompetence

that would be comical if it wasn't forcing NATO citizens

into safety and afraid of drones on a Saturday night.

But, while the physical wreckage

of Putin's Grand Imperial Ambition

was allegedly burning a hole in the dirt road

in my backyard,

what exactly was the Kremlin doing?

Were they fixing their command and control?

Or are they patching their broken navigation systems?

Of course not.

They were too busy turning of the lights in their own house.

Yesterday, the Russian state pulled the lever

on a $12 billion digital kill switch.

They activated the Soviet and Internet protocols

plunging Moscow, St. Petersburg,

and massive swaths of the country

into a total communications blackout.

Telegram went down there.

What sub-died?

The entire digital nervous system of the country

was smothered under under a whitelist grid.

And the head of Russia.com,

Mikhail Osyevsky,

cheerfully took the microphones

of the Claire that Telegram is dying,

but their state mandated

FSB monitor messenger app called Maks,

is growing!

So everything is perfectly fine.

This isn't just modern authoritarianism.

This is the late Soviet Geronto,

Gerontocracy all over again.

Is the exact same,

rotting,

my rat-ratting stupid mindset,

the jammed radio free Europe in the 1980s,

only this time the post-bro

is armed with deep-packed inspection algorithms,

instead of, you know, radio towers.

They didn't shut down the Internet

because of some massive and controllable uprising.

The Telegram protests they were so terrified of

never even happened.

The state preemptively suffocated them the crib.

They arrested the people

who merely applied for the protest permits.

They arrested people who posted online

explicitly telling others not to go.

They dragged citizens like Artur Wagner,

no relation to the Wagner group,

into the Mishansky police station

and beat them,

threatening them with torture and rape,

just to extract false confessions.

So if the streets were empty,

why burn billions of rubles

in local business revenue

by shutting down the Internet?

Why sever the horizontal civilian networks

that are literally keeping the country alive?

Huh!

The answer was,

proudly provided by none other than

the neo-Nazi-Z channel Deshargarusich.

They said the quiet part out loud.

They admitted that if the state hadn't blocked Telegram,

the entire Russian population would have seen

the high-resolution satellite photos

of the Wich Luga oil terminal

completely annihilated by Ukrainian drones.

The Russian command didn't shut down the Internet to stop right.

They shut down the Internet

and hide the burning wreckage of their own economy

from their own serfs.

If a billion dollar expert

hubburns down,

but you physically prevent the population

from looking at the nice pictures,

then according to Kremlin,

it never happened.

But you cannot hide a systemic default forever.

You can force the population

onto a state-monitored app.

You can beat them in police stations,

but you cannot delete the reality of

starving economy.

Because while the elite are desperately trying to curate

a digital alternative reality,

where they're still advancing

and there's still some sort of push going forward

from the Russian side,

well, the Russian working class in the streets.

Yeah, they're running out of money to eat.

And I mean that literally, by the way,

we've hit the track called.

The average Russian citizen

is now spending 39% of their income on food.

In the poorer regions,

that number spikes past 60%.

Let me put that into economic perspective.

When a population spends

that much of their survival budget

just to put calories on the table,

it's called Engel's Law.

Yes, the very same.

Engel's of Marx and Engel's fame.

Of the communist manifesto.

This is the mathematical definition of systemic poverty.

But here's the truly grotesque part.

They aren't even buying real food anymore.

To prevent mass starvation

and full-blown bread riots,

the state has forced agricultural producers

to artificially suppress prices

by cutting basic dairy products

with counterfeit industrial-grade palm oil and beef fat.

They're feeding their own population

literal garbage,

literal garbage,

an ingestible paste

because the Kremlin's war machine has devoured

the national budget.

The people are eating fake food,

paid for with a collapsing currency,

while the government smiles

them that everything is going according to plan.

They call it import substitution.

I call it force-feeding your population's slop

so the defense contractors

can buy another mansion.

When the business owner is begged for relief,

when they point out that their profits are zero

and they're drowning in debt,

the head of central bank,

Elvira no Buenina,

looks at them dead in the eye

and calls it a planned cooling.

Planed cooling, yeah.

That's the clinical sociophatic term,

the elite use

when they are intentionally

letting the civilian economy

die to artificially suppress inflation,

that they are actively

engineering the bankruptcy

of their own citizens.

Major retail chains are imploring.

X5 retail group,

the giant between,

behind Picheračka,

is running on a microscopic 2% margin.

4,500 stores

closed in Moscow alone this year.

Shopping malls are turning into ghost towns

because the middle class

no longer exists.

In the state?

The state is quietly mandating

a 15% labor purge

across all municipal governments

and state owned enterprises.

They're firing hundreds

of thousands of people

throwing them into the cold

creating a destitute underclass.

Why?

So that these desperate men,

facing eviction

and starvation,

have absolutely no choice

but to sign day 4.5 million

ruble contract

with a mainstream defense.

Grab a rifle

and walk into a Ukrainian minefield.

Just feed their kids.

But even that blood money

isn't enough to plug

the bleeding artery

of the war deficit.

The federal budget is imploding.

Again,

like we said previously,

they have burned

through 90% of this year's

planned deficit in just January

and February,

and I'm still waiting

for March.

So, right now,

the fact how to plug this

homeless, well,

the criminal elite,

has now turned to openly

talk about discussing

the plan to confiscate

the 67 trillion

rubles of civilian savings

currently sitting

in the Russian banks.

They're doing exactly

what the dying Soviet Union did

before it collapsed

under its own weight.

It's the direct undeniable

return to the late Soviet

Jedi andocracy,

where the state simply reaches

into your bank account

and steals everything

you work for to fund

its foreign imperial

blunders.

And the population

knows it.

The bankrun is continuing

and we're at

not 1.9 trillion rubles.

Again,

we're waiting for the March

data.

This is going to be interesting

since this is the biggest

bankrun since, well,

since the war started.

The people are buying

paper maps

and hoarding cash

under their mattresses

because they know

the state is coming

for their wallets.

And what does the state do

with all this stolen wealth?

Well,

they certainly

aren't spending it on

Russia.

The physical infrastructure

of the Federation is

literally dissolving.

As we speak,

massive floods

are washing away

entire towns in Chechnya and

Dagestan.

Bridges are collapsing.

Dams are failing.

Half million people

are sitting in the dark

without power.

And the federal response?

Of course.

As usual.

Nothing.

There is no money

for emergency services.

There is no money

for regional infrastructure

either.

Instead, it's currently

spending $11.8 billion

to build a new

railway line occupied Ukraine

to bypass the

carriage bridge.

Why?

Well, they're failing.

They're

porting the nationals

remaining wealth

into the blood,

soaked dirt

to the Donbass,

while actual Russian

Federation sings into the mud.

It's so bad that

in the heart of Moscow,

the municipal government

couldn't even afford

to pay contractors

to take down the Christmas

decorations.

It's late March,

and massive New Year's

trees are still

rotting away

in the capital,

standing there.

The Empire

is rotting

from the inside out,

wrapped in faded

tinsel,

managed by a man

steal that away

to a victory

that will never come.

Because if you

want to understand

how the country

destroys itself this

quickly, you have to

look at the people

running it.

You have to look at

the absolute

hallucinary delusion

of an elite class

that has completely

lost touch with the

reality on the ground.

You have to look at

the planet of the

pink potas,

as Igor Gyrkin

calls them,

where the men are

sending the surfs

to die,

and then themselves

are too busy

admiring their own

reflections.

The people,

running this

meat grinder, are

under opavera clerks,

who are actively

hallucinating their own

competence.

They live in the

sanitized, hermetically

sealed bubble, completely

divorced from the

physical decay of the

country they're running.

Look at the head

of Rostylia Com,

Michal of

Shavsky.

This is the man

who just pulled the

plug on the nation

after all.

He flips the kill switch

on the entire country's

digital infrastructure,

obliterates the

volunteer networks,

blinds the

frontline troops,

and then steps up

this is growing,

so everything is

fine.

Everything is

fine, of course.

It is the battle

cry of the

terminally delusional.

They have

severeed the last remaining

arteries of

civilian communication,

and they're

celebrating it as a triumph

of domestic

software.

We have seen this

exapsychological

pathology before.

Look at

Argentinian

1982.

Leopold Galtieri

and the military

junta were sitting on

top of a

rotting bankrupt

economy.

Their domestic

military was

exposed to a

hollow, incompetent

shell.

But Galtieri

couldn't

admit it.

He sat in his

palace.

He sat in his

palace in

Buenos Aires, printing

fake news about

glorious victory, as

well, he's

poorly equipped, freezing

conscripts.

Well, they suffered

in the mud.

Putin's

nomenclature.

The military was

exposed to a hollow

incompetent shell.

But Galtieri

couldn't admit it.

He sat in his

palace.

Nomenclature is

doing the exact same

thing right now, only

there.

They're doing it

with the...

with the threat of

nuclear weapons and

electric kick scooters.

They're printing

reports about

glorious economic

growth while the

province is wash away in

the rain.

But here's the

beautiful dark irony

of the current moment.

The most

rabid, bloodthirsty

cheerleaders of this war

are, once again, carrying

gone with, waking up to

the grift.

The dead bloggers

who spent the last

four years screaming

of the extermination

of Kiev are

hiding them just

as much.

And the Stasiya

Kasyavarava, a

hardcore Z-propagandist,

absolutely stabbed

this week.

She listened to

a shave's key

talking about how

everything is fine, and

she laid down the

actual reality of the

Russian Federation.

She wrote that

small and medium businesses

are dying.

Volunteer networks are

dying.

The legal system is

dying.

The frontline

troops are dying.

The

mystic production is

dying.

Everything

that wasn't

killed during the

war.

That's me, folks.

She pointed

out the grotesque

hypocrisy of the

elite.

The Kremlin views

the Russian people as

cockroaches.

They expect the

serfs to put on

busts, chews,

shut their mouths, and

died a

trench for the

motherland.

While the state

managers and deputies

categorically

refused to live in one

room apartment, and

refused to take the

30,000 rubles

salaries, and

absolutely refused to

wear cheap, domestic

suits.

It's a culture of

total, under-

the

30,000

planes.

That

current

aviation sector is

literally

cannibalizing its own

air, and they're

promising a thousand

new jets.

It's a geopolitical

equivalent of a

bank or a

telegar, by a

Michelin star

restaurant, for his

mistress, using a

max-cell credit card.

A

desperate, pathetic

projection of wealth, and

well, an illusion of

power that simply does

not exist anymore.

And this fatal

realization isn't just

happening on

telegram.

It's bleeding

directly into the

trenches.

Said author

Slotkov, just

published a

dispatch that

should identify every

plant.

The ground in the

mud told themselves they

were there was a clever

plan.

They felt the high

command was holding back

its true strength,

waiting for the perfect

moment to unleash the

real Russian

bear.

But, but, after four

years of eating

drone-trapnel, they

have realized that

there is, well, there

is no plan.

There is no

secret reserve.

Slotkov admits that

the troops now see the

leadership as cowards.

The men are ordered to

charge forward and die

without hesitation, while

the elite in Moscow

tipped around the

west.

Goose stepping on their

haunches, and, quote,

terrified of actually

fighting NATO, but too

proud to admit they

have lost.

The soldiers are

looking over their

shoulders and realizing

that the men, giving

the orders, are

terrified themselves.

Because, well, they

have well, because well

the elite pretend they're

fighting a high tech

war against the combined

might of the west.

Or, so they

pretend the reality of

their utter

impotence is burning

right through their own

backyard.

Yeah.

They have every

reason to be afraid.

They aren't just

being dismantled by

cars or hypersinnah

cruise missiles.

They are being

humiliated by

cardboard.

And I mean cardboard

quite literally here

because, well, now we

have to talk about

Ustluga and Primorsk.

See, this is the

arterial network of the

Russian Federation.

This is where the

lifeblood of the empire,

the oil, the gas, the

hydrocarbons that pay

for the right police, the

propagandists, and the

golden toilets in the

Kremlin.

Well, this is where

the oil flows out into

the world.

Right now, the global

oil markets in the

state of sheer panic.

After all, you know, we

are on the United

States trading blows.

Brent Crude is

spiking, and the

Kremlin was supposed to

be rolling in this

mass event expected

windfall.

And despite, and even

in addition to all the

facts that I've laid out

in the previous episodes,

well, the oil

markets were still,

practically

salivating.

But, um, the coup

and sell it.

Come though the tankers

of the terminals on

fire.

St. Petersburg, the

cultural capital, the

Venice of the North

is currently choking on

a thick, toxic cloud

of black smoke rolling

in from the coast

and I mean

the logical reports

have been devastating

lately.

The Ministry of

Emergency

Situations is actively

issuing data quality

warnings to the citizens.

That smug, you're

breathing, the

comrades in Russia.

Well, that there is

the smell of 40% of

Russia's seabornoil

export capacity turning

to ash.

And, um, how did the

mighty Ukrainian armed

forces achieve the

strategic decaputation?

Million-dollar

stealth bombers.

Hybrids in the

cruise missiles.

Nope.

They used

with the Russians

historically calling

cardboard drones

made of shit and

sticks.

Literally.

I mean, as every

fascist government,

Russia just has to

portray its enemies

as simultaneously

very weak

and extremely strong.

Per one, we can

take a look at the

Z channel, the

welders.

They're having a

collective public

nervous breakdown.

They're

poisting videos of the

attack-code on

Uschluga, and it's the

most pathetic

display of

national defense you

will ever see in your

life.

And, it's

air defense consists of

some random underpaid

security guard, standing

on the tarmac,

frantically dumping

a magazine from his

AK-47 into the

pitch black sky.

Uh, yeah, there is no

radar.

No early warning

network.

No layered puns in

missile systems.

Just a terrified guy with

a collation cuff, trying to

shoot down a plywood

lawnmower packed with high

explosives.

The humiliation is

absolute.

The propaganda starts

screaming into the void.

Where is the radar?

What are the

defense doing?

Calling back to the

old memes.

It's still funny.

But, uh, they're

screaming that they're

fighting NATO.

And yet, you know, they're

getting beaten to death

by this cardboard.

Literally, their

words not mine.

And if this is what

happens when, uh, you

know, these cheap

proplanes, proplanes

turn into drones, fly

over the border.

Well, now, what would be

happening now if, um, if

they had actual

Taurus missiles?

And this is not a

isolated incident.

It's a systemic

nationwide swarm.

Last night, the

gun-drug was

hammered for

4-3 hours.

Over 60 drones

darkened the

sky.

And, uh,

Kuybyshev

Auzot plant

tolyatti.

Hit.

Refineries across the

Rostov region.

Hit.

Rostner defense network

is full of so many

holes.

It resembles the

rusted-out

colander.

The domestic blowback

from the

sartorial bleed is already

fatal.

Because so many

refineries are offline, the

Kremlin had to panic and

slap a ban on domestic

gasoline exports it again.

Do you know what happens

when you throttle the

domestic fuel supply

right at the exact

moment when the

car is in the

country side?

The tractors stop.

The agricultural

sector, which is already

being decimated by the

forced slaughter of

livestock and a massive

deficit of

fertilizers, is now

running out of gas.

They're burning

their own food supply to

try and keep the

war machine fueled.

And, uh,

they're failing

miserably.

Add everything there.

This is the reality of

modern the

symmetrical warfare.

You don't need a

thousand fake passenger

jets out of fleet of

yachts when a $2,000

drone can

penalize the nation's

entire economy.

It's a beautiful,

beautiful, terrifying

efficiency of Ukrainian

drones.

That raises the

midpoint of today's

broadcast and are, well,

brand new campaign.

Because if you're

listening to this and

smiling at the thought

of Russian oil

terminals turning into

giant bonfires, then,

then it's time to

put your money where

it grit is.

We are helping out our

friends at Cod

for Ukraine.

And this time, it is the

east-air trucks

2026 campaign.

This one with the

link that I'm

going to post with you

to you, that's

specifically for

these and more

audience.

Fans are going to

an unit that

absolutely love.

They are the

Perun

unmanned systems battalion

attached to the

40-second mechanized

brigade.

Perun

the Slavic God of

thunder and lightning, which

gives me some

incredible heavy

metal sky-forger

rives.

If you haven't

checked out that

laughing and ban, please

do.

Very similar to our own

paracorns after all.

Well, these guys are

living up to the name.

They're currently

operating in the

air.

They are

fielding specialized

fiber optic-guided

drones.

They understand what

that means.

The Russians rely on

heavy electronic

warfare to jump radio

signals.

But you can't

not jab a spool of

physical fiber optic

wire.

These rounds are

completely lenient

to EW interference.

The operator flies

right down the hatch

of Russian tank and

glorious,

ungemable, high

definition.

Earlier this year, the

Perun

operator single-handedly

stopped the massive

Russian mechanized

aircraft.

But these

cool dudes, they need

trucks.

They need mobility

to get these

fiber optic-knight

mirrors up to the

zero line.

So they can keep

running, turning

Russian armor into

spare parts.

Go to a car for your

crane.

Campaigns.

Easted

PiSanki

Throx 2026.

Eastern Borer.

Links in the

shell description.

And they promise to

make us a promo

video too.

But they're a little

busy, you know, right now

vaporizing the

air.

You know, grab

your conscience

and help out.

First of all, the

Perun

guys.

Well then, for me

personally, me a

bit as well since I

don't allow you guys

and we don't have any

any other

founding besides what

you provide to us.

When everything is

moving all at once, your

workforce, your tech

stack, your business, you

don't need more

tools.

You need one

solution.

That's why

we're able to single

platform to connect

HR, finance, and IT

with AI-driven

insights in automated

workflows that

simplify the complex

and power what's

next.

Because when everything

comes together in one

place, growth comes

easy.

Experience one place

for all your

HCM needs.

Start now at

pelocity.com-

slash one.

But now?

Now, welcome back to

the Nightmare

Comrades.

We just

spend the first half

of this broadcast

talking about the

billion-dollar delusions

of the criminal

elite and the

high-tech fiber-optic

guided thunder of

the Ukrainian

Perun Battalion.

Now, let's

pat the camera across the

Ciro-Lanon, look at the

grim, scavenged reality

of the so-called

Second Army of the

World.

See, if you listen to

the Nomenclatura

and Moscow, they

will tell you they're

fighting a 21st-century

war.

But the Russian

Ministry of Defense is

nothing but a power-point

grift.

It is a massive,

bloated-bitocratic

tick that sucks up

trillions of

frubles and produces

nothing but lies.

Like, it's pure

unadulterated

madmax.

It is scrap metal,

duct tape, and

absolute

desperation.

They recently had a

big, huge, high-tech

military-

military technology show

called Archimedes

2026 in Russia.

And one of our

favorite Z-Vatniks,

Maxim Klasnikov,

spent quite a lot of

time reporting from it.

I gathered his

reports and, well, it

was quite interesting to

take a look at what they

have reinvented and how

they're trying to scam

their own government

from money and how

their government is

well, making sure nothing

new and actually

innovative gets the

front lines.

Let's start with the

artillery.

The Russians are

literally running out

of barrels.

The Vonthead Soviet

artillery park.

The D-30s.

The MSTAs.

The Guiestines.

Their

barrels are so

warm from the overuse

that they're practically

smoothbore, assuming they

don't just explode in the

cruise faces.

And the big,

multiple-local-

launch systems.

The Grads

and Tornados.

All their

massive and slow targets.

The second they

roll out of the

tree line, Ukrainian

drones spot them and

they press them.

So, what do the

front line

troops do when the

state abandons them?

Well, let's

present in this Archimedes

2026, from which all

the inventions come.

These guys build

weapons in a

trench with a box of

scraps.

A front line

engineered with a

call-side mechanic.

Invented something

called the Kozirug.

The Capricorn.

It's a stable,

portable rocket

tube mounted on a

metal tripod.

It weighs

200 kilos.

But, because it's a

homemade metal pipe, the

deco is violent.

To keep it from flipping

backwards and it fires, the

crew has to physically

weigh down the front

like with whatever heavy

garbage they can

scavenge from the ruins

around them.

Sandbags, logs,

broken center blocks, even

stolen sewer covers

and house doors.

The deco hole

covered it with branches.

Stick this metal sewer

pipe out of the door.

And, well,

pray it hits something.

Now, in a functional

military, if a soldier

had an event cheap, highly

mobile weapon system

that saves lives, the

Ministry of Defense

evaluates it and

scales it up.

Did the Russian

command do that?

Did they learn

something from this

Archimedes show?

Of course not.

The generals

looked at the Kozirug

and sneered.

They said we already

have grads, we don't

need this.

So, the troops'

desperate just to survive,

had to go online, hold

other digital hats and

crowned fondament

of actioning themselves.

Right now, there are 160

of these homemade

rocket pipes operating

on the front line,

built by a small

private enterprise in

Jakaterinburg,

the budget couldn't

be bothered to supply

its own infantry,

fire support.

And it gets worse.

Let's talk about the

sky.

The Russian infantry

is being systematically

exterminated by

Ukraine and the

PV drones.

Up to 80% of their

casualties are from these

drones.

The soldiers are begging

for personal anti-air

defense.

And again, the

state provides absolutely

nothing.

So, in this show,

in the end of the

end of the French

Sevastopol,

named the Mithrilikov

designs a do-it-yourself

shotgun attachment

for the standard issue

of the missile tube

that you screw onto

the barrel.

You load a magazine

of blind cartridges,

you shove a how-made

canister full of

box-cutting to the

muzzle, and you fire

it like a 70th-century

blunder bus.

It's primitive,

it's desperate,

and while people who

know more about guns than

I do, will probably

explain why double

exploding right in front

of your barrel is

probably not a good

idea, and why the very

short barrel makes the

quite inaccurate,

but I digress.

I'll leave this to

other experts.

However, well,

it is still

completely deadifying

the modern army

as to resort to this.

But here's the

ultimate punchline.

This blunder bus

attachment, as in

effect as it may be,

costs 3,000 rubles

to make.

That's roughly 30

euros.

30 bucks to give a

soldier a fighting chance,

or at least a

moral illusion of

fighting chance against

the kamikaze

drone.

Does the Russian

Ministry of Defense

buy them?

Do they order a million

units to say at least

some of their men

and give moral

boost to the others?

Well, again,

this is Russia,

a

deep damning believe

him, and the

mayor of the country

that's incredible.

Why?

Well, because first, he

didn't have a

registered patent, which

takes six months of

paperwork to file.

And second, because he

failed to provide an

analytical, economical

viability study

comparing it to

non-existent analogs.

Let that sink in.

Russian men

are bleeding to death

in the mud, their limbs

blown off by Ukrainian

drones, and the

clerks in Moscow

are refusing to spend

and 30 euros on a piece of metal because the inventor didn't file the proper patent paperwork.

It's a bit of a crack death cult. The system is structurally, mathematically, incapable of top-down

innovation. So you have military with no functional artillery, no armor that can survive down the

open field, and yeah, no defense against the drones blooding out of the sun. How exactly do the

commanders order in the salt under these conditions? Well, you don't use tanks, you don't use

troop carriers. You put your disposable surf meat on electric scooters. Yeah, I wish I was

making this up for the sake of dark comedy, but I'm not. Striped a functioning arm per arm

personnel carriers and pedalized by total lack of electronic warfare protection, Russian commanders

are now officially ordering broad offensives into places like Constantine using an armored,

custom consumer grade, Chinese electric scooters. They're sending men in cheap helmets,

buzzing across open cratered fields directly into the sides of your Ukrainian heavy bomber drones.

See, this is the closest that the Russians can get into an offensive push these days.

It's a level of tactical depravity that we haven't seen since Tsar Nichols II. Back in 1917,

good old Tsar and his aristocratic generals believed the Russian peasantries in infinite

and exhaustible well of blood. They sent millions of conscripts into the meat grinder of the Eastern

Front, sometimes without even issuing the rifles, telling them to simply pick up a weapon from

the dead comrade. Tsar treated the his population as disposable biological spreadsheet,

right up until the exact moment that the same battered bleeding army turned around in March

on Petrograd. The day's Kremlin has learned absolutely nothing. They have simply swapped the

horse-rolled carts for, for electric scooters. And why are they doing this? Well, because the men

giving orders are utterly pathologically detached from the reality of the slaughter. Listen to the words

of Alexander Khodakovsky, a prominent Russian battalion commander. He recently wrote a dispatch

admitting that sometimes the high command just gets bored. I want you to let that word sink in,

bored. The generals, sitting in their bunker, sipping tea, get tired of reading reports about

slow, grinding positional warfare, where the infantry squads are wiped out for a few meters of mud.

They want to see something dynamic. Nuznatvizhuha, as they say in Russian. They want to report a

massive, in their quotes here, breakthroughs of their bosses in Moscow. So according to Khodakovsky,

they scrape the bottom of the barrel, assemble a column of whatever's crap metal is left,

say ten armored vehicles, and order them to drive straight into a heavily mined field under a

swarm of Ukrainian FPV drones on the Zaporizhi front. That is out? Well, just as expected.

Total, instantaneous, and complete annihilation. The entire column is wiped out before the team

reaches the zero line. Everyone dies. All because the cleric with stars and his shoulders

wanted to spice up his afternoon tea. Up to 90% of Russian casualties are happening before

the troops even see a Ukrainian soldier. Yeah, this is just glorious, because, again,

all of them from drones. To sustain this level of localized genocide, the state relies on a massive

industrial scale lie. They're plastering the collapsing Russian cities with recruitment

ads, offering massive sign-on bonuses, and promising safe, rear echelon jobs.

But the Z-authors themselves are screaming warnings to the public. Listen to our, well,

one of the most hated Z-bloggers, and I can make jokes about Gyrkin and Kalashnikov,

but at least they haven't called for full-on genocide. But this guy, this 13th, yeah,

you know how much I hate him if you listen to this show for a long while. But even he,

even he recently posted a desperate reality check for any Russian man thinking about signing

a contract to escape the economic collapse. He wrote, and I quote, quote, as soon as you sign

that contract, you instantly become an awesome stormtrooper, and your opinion about being promised

a job in the rear goes straight to hell. If you signed up to be a builder, you are digging trenches

under drone fire. If you signed up to be a delivery driver, you're a handed-day 30 kilogram

backpack of explosives and told us to print across the minefield. Yet if you signed up to play

the trumpet in the military orchestra, you're handed the rifle and shoved into an assault web.

The state is running a baton switch. Yeah, even the most fanatical of Zadvatniks admit that

no one's being paid these millions of rubles to beg bread, or to do anything else except to die

in ten days. And what happens to the military discipline when you treat your army like livestock?

Ah, of course, it chatters. The route of the state has infected the officer corps.

There was a video released by Alexander Mikhailov, a soldier from the 36th

Separat Motorized Rifle Brigade. He didn't record the video threatening the enemy. He recorded

the suicide video begging for a transfer, promising that if he's sent back to his unit,

he will hand down and murder his own commanding officers. Why? Because his commanders,

officers whose call sounds like fictil and tuman tied him to a tree beating for two days

and tortured him with electricity and water. They didn't torture him for military intelligence,

they tortured him to extort his combat pay. They threatened to tie a grenade to him,

blow him up and ride it off, or the ledger as Ukrainian drone strike if he didn't hand over his

salary. This is the terminal phase of an empire's military occasion. When your officers are

running mafia extortion rack, it's torturing their own men for blood money and your soldiers

are publicly swearing to frag their commanders. You no longer have an army, you have an armed

desperate mob of serfs trapped in a nightmare. And the state's absolute contempt for these men

doesn't stop when they get wounded. In fact, that is when exactly the true horror of their status as

other serfs begins. Now, if we want to look at the historical equivalent for this level of

state-sponsored demographic suicide, you have to look back to South America in the 1860s.

Look at Francisco Solano Lopez, the dictator of Paraguay. Lopez, if I remember from my tiny little

amount of Spanish classes that I took, was a man completely blinded by his own imperial hubris.

He decided to pick a fight with Brazil, Argentina, and Uruguay at the same time, the war of the

triple alliance. When his initial offensive collapsed, he didn't super-peace, he didn't admit defeat,

he just kept feeding his own people into the meat grinder. He drafted the old men,

he drafted the children and he threw them all at the enemy's guns. But the time Lopez was

finally hunted down and killed in the mud, Paraguay had lost anywhere from 70 to 90% of its entire

adult male population. He had annihilated his own country's future just to protect his own ego.

Mr. Putin, the so-called president of the so-called Russian Federation, is doing the exact same

thing. The Kremlin views the Russian male not as a citizen with rights, but as a straight property.

Look at the very recent cheerful announcement from Dmitri Medvedje. He went on camera to proudly

declare that there is absolutely no need to announce the new weapon mobilization, and the propaganda

is collapsed. But why is there no new mobilization? Because the Kremlin has simply decided that the

300,000 men drafted back in the autumn of 2022, while they're never coming home,

they are a literal Serf's. You might take this as some sort of mockery, but I'm not. The word

Serf Kripa Sniye describes their condition in the Russian side of the battlefield the best,

like objectively the best, because they have been handed a life sentence in these trenches.

The Z channels are overflowing with bitter, hard-broken letters from these men. They write about

giving a rare, two-week leave, walking through their front doors, and realizing their own toddlers

are terrified of them. A soldier comes home from the slaughterhouse in Zaporizya, and his three-year-old

child looks at him and asks, Uncle, who are you? The state took these men away, threw them into the

modern, quietly cancel their return tickets. But the front line is a woodchipper, and the broad

offensive is required a constant stream of fresh blood. The Russian state is getting so desperate

to fill the gaps left by the drone's warms that they're scraping the absolute bottom of everything

they can. Take the story out of Norezhk this week. Yuri Gavrilov is a 50-year-old veteran who volunteered

in 2022. He caught some strapped knell, spent a year and seven months rotting in the military

hospital, and finally had his leg amputated. He's a one-legged man. This week, the local police

suddenly raided his apartment, claimed he sold a tiny pack after drugs for 3,000 rubles. Again,

that's 30 euros, and immediately offered him a choice. Go to a brutal penal colony for years,

or sign a new contract and go back to the front. They're literally trying to blackmail a one-legged

amputee who is a veteran back into the assault infantry. We're talking about that level of reserves

and willingness of fight inside of Russian people, especially knowing that the last time they declared

mobilization, well, hundreds of thousands escaped through Georgia. And the Z-Vitniks, they noticed,

because as they now are complaining constantly, those who obeyed the law, well, the Russian law

that is if you can call it that way, they now ended up being the fools. Yet, yet of course,

and no one is surprised here, the Kremlin's absolute structural contempt for human life

doesn't stop with the soldiers. It, of course, extends directly to the civilians whose lives this war

has destroyed. Let's look at the Kursk region. Almost two years ago, the Ukrainian armed forces

in a daring offensive crossed the border and occupied a tiny sliver of human Russian land.

Today, there are over 112,000 Russian citizens from Kursk who are still homeless refugees inside

their own country. Yeah, and the country that started this war, mind you. 112,000 people who are

living in temporary sheltered gyms and rented rooms. And what did the Great Russian Empire,

the state that constantly boasts on television about how it's going to rebuild the entire Donbas

from the ashes and promises this magical Russian world, which will never exist and never has,

actually does for its own, for its own displaced people. Hmm, it abandoned them.

For a while, the state paid the mameekers survival stipend of 65,000 rubles a month. But in January,

the government quietly cut them off, stating the funds have been directed to other goals.

And to make sure the rest of the country didn't feel the sympathy for them, the ruling United

Russia party lodged a vicious media campaign on local television, branding these homeless

to refugees as parasites. The state TV actually ran segments calculating how much money a displaced

family might have theoretically saved up, accusing them of being greedy, of being the local budget

dry, and telling them to stop whining. When the refugees asked for the housing certificates,

they were promised to rebuild their destroyed homes. The bureaucracy traps them in a catch-20-22.

The state says a commission must physically expect the ruins first, but the commissions are

refused to go claiming it's too dangerous because of the drones. They're refused to even use

military drones to photograph the damage, claiming it risks the lives of the soldiers. As a result,

the state issues may be a hundred housing certificates a month. At that time, it will take centuries

to house the people of Kursk. But you can only push a population so far. You can only feed them so

much palm oil, kill so many of their husbands, and burn down so many of their homes before the

grand delusion finally shatters. And right now, right now, we're carrying on with the phase where,

again, everyone's spotting the incoming fire. Even the most loyal bloodthirsty servants of the regime

are day by day increasing in number among those who have been disillusioned. This is the terminal

phase of the ideological collapse, and I'm just documenting here how, well, I say August,

my previous prediction that we're going to be taking a look at what's happening in August. Yeah,

that's where it's going to happen. Because, well, quite obviously. See, the people who spent the

last four years screaming on television for nuclear annihilation of, um, of London and the total

subjugation of Kiev are suddenly expecting a miraculous onset of pacifism. They can finally

realize that the corrupt capitalist oligarchy managed by thieves cannot outgrind the combined

industrial might of the west. Look at Grigorik Kubiatan, a frontland correspondent for the

Komsomonskaya Pravda. This is one of the absolute core of the state media apparatus. What is he

writing this week? Well, he's openly begging for negotiations. He writes, quote, I understand

what the problem is. Part of the elite makes money and war and long war suits them. Another

part suffers losses once to quickly agree on peace. He points out that while the Soviet Union

could evacuate its state-owned factories beyond the Urals, Mar and Russia is owned by private

oligarchs who are just watching their billion dollar refineries burn to the ground. He openly

admits that they have failed to inflict any unacceptable damage on Ukraine. And on the west too,

by the way, because they still think that they're fighting all of NATO as a matter of self-pride,

it's better clues to the whole west after all. Even though, like in the joke, the west hasn't

really arrived for the war just yet. And then Hitler is the fatal psychological blow. He writes,

quote, for the past four years, we could not or did not want to win, which means we will have to

negotiate. It is impossible to fight endlessly. And the premier propagandists of the state

are publicly asking, are we still even trying to win? The ideological spine of the war is broken.

It is breaking right now. And, well, people who claim that Russia is somehow still winning,

well, they know less about this than the guys paid by the Russian propaganda, because why even

the most official people, even so the other himself, is openly stating doubt and screaming for

the negotiations right now. The zed spirit is fracturing into a million pieces of pathetic,

narcissistic rage. And oh boy, today it's 31st of April, 31st of March, tomorrow on the 1st of April,

well, that's when the telegram got cut off. Next episode is going to be all about that,

and some more little stuff there, because oh boy, during my little mental break, a lot of things

happened. But I would like to especially take a look at one, Yegor Homogorov. One of the

loudest, most militant imperialist ideologues on the Russian internet. How did he react to the

state forcing everyone off telegram and onto the max up? He threw a temper tantrum. He,

very similar to the mislaw, but not as loudly, basically, both to the manifesto threatening to

leave himself from the internet. He wrote, quote, if they banned telegram, when there will be no

blogger and publicist Homogorov, the state will lose more from this than I will.

Amazing, the absolute towering arrogance of it. The state is feeding hundreds of thousands of

its own citizens into a meat grinder, fighting 15% of its workforce and freezing nations bank

accounts, and this keyboard warrior, things the Kremlin, is going to weep over the loss of his

blog posts. The state does not care about you, Yegor. You were a useful idiot, and now that the

narratives collapsing, they're putting you back in the box. And very soon, the state is also

going to run out for the useful idiots in the western space. You will see all these people,

who were very much pro put in, just switching around their tunes. I can guarantee you that,

because the state is running out of money, and that's the number one prediction that I can tell

you that they're counting off a budget. They're going to keep doing this for a while, yeah, but

very soon, very soon, dear comrades. But of course, when such a totalitarian narrative collapses,

the Russian state cannot simply admit failure. It cannot admit that its military was hollow

out by corruption or the economy was destroyed by its own leadership. It needs a scapegoat.

And when an autocracy panics, it always reaches for all this darkest, most classical scapegoats

in the playbook. This week, Mash, one of the largest, most heavily funded state-line media syndicates

in Russia, with millions of subscribers, pledged from from today straight into the 1930s.

They published a slick, highly-produced, multi-part infographic, explicitly reviving the, well,

the worst, or, you know, best for Russian government, I suppose, anti-Semitic conspiracy theories

of the 20th century. They're not even talking about Ukraine anymore. They literally claim that

the Russian state is being undermined by a global network of sleeper agents called the Sianim.

The text literally states, and I quote,

Every Jew serves the Mossad or the Sianim. In the broad sense, this is a Jew to whom any other

Jew can turn for help. And they're telling their millions of readers that every single Jewish

person on earth is a covert agent of Israeli intelligence, orchestrating sabotage and liquidating

enemies from the shadows. It's brilliant. They have just gone back to protocols of the elders of

Zion, except they have wrapped it into a modern telegram graphic. It's desperate, it's violent,

it's the ultimate proof of their systemic bankruptcy. When you can no longer blame,

not even NATO, because you're getting beaten to death by drones and cheat drones of that,

you revert to blaming a global ethno religious hive mind. Yeah, because, you know, as I always

say in these cases, have you seen how the parliament of Israel, the Knesset works? Have you seen how

many parties get elected there? As I tell by my sci-fi author friends, if you want to know how a

global parliament of some sort of future where humanity would be unified, work like, just take a

look at the Knesset, because oh boy, Jews of all sorts are there. And, uh, well, they really don't

look like they could actually run the whole world if you look at what's going on over there.

It's a full-blown, crazy debate, it's everything. But not like these anti-Semitic idiots who really

haven't even checked the basic geopolitics, not anything of that sort. Because these guys, well,

they're actively preloading the target for, I guess, for some new domestic mobs, pointing a

finger away from the Kremlin, because they are afraid that something's coming. And it's welcome,

except I always say like I always say in August, and they want to scream, it wasn't Knesset, it was the

hidden enemy. But, you know, the mobs, at this point they aren't really looking at the hidden

enemy, it's a bit too late there. They're looking at the Kremlin. The Z-Channel Ghost of Novore

I see a point posted the most chilling, accurate autopsy of this entire disaster. They wrote that with

all these new bands, all this titling of the screws, all this digital suffocation, all of this message

is just accelerating the end of the state. Power of, is an illusion. Ghost of Novore I see a rose

in his channel. It is built on the conviction of all participants that there are rules. When the

fundamental postulates are undermined, the people stop believing in the illusion, sparks fly and

fires crumble. And then, this Ghost of Novore I see a guy laid out the final inevitable

consequence of Putin's grand imperial suicide. Quote, continuing in the same vein will inevitably

lead to the first rock from the crowd into the Shediff's window. And will he, the Shediff,

definitely come out with a big revolver and punish the villains. And if not, what then? And

Quote. What then? Indeed. The information lights out out in Moscow. The oil ports are burning,

the surface are freezing, and the empire is holding its breath, waiting for the sound of Shedder

and Glass. And I'll be here to make sure that you know all about it. Thank you for listening

comrades. Remember to check the show notes to support the Pedal and Battalion through car

for Ukraine or draw by our Patreon if you want to keep the show running. And you know, there's

also the eastern board that I'll be here, our fourth wall. This stuff over here in the border,

it's a bit scary. My rooms are all clear and I still have some food to cook. But it seems to me

that across the border, a long night, is just beginning. Sleep while comrades, keep your eyes on the

east and, as usual, remember, happiness is mandatory. It's important to repeat this, but thank you

for supporting the Pedal Creators. As always, remember, happiness is mandatory.