Despite the fall in oil prices, the fall in gasoline prices was avoided.

If money is taken out of Russia, it means they are not able to behave here.

In the fifth grade I enrolled in the math circles at the Pioneer Palace of Leningrad, which was on Nevsky Avenue. We lived on the outskirts and the parents were afraid to let the 11-year-old child alone.
But the father said, “Let it be better to ride around the city than to talk in the courtyard.”
My mom told me, "Be careful: the center is full of hooligan, thieves and... The prostitutes!”
Of course, I had an idea of who the prostitutes were, but I didn’t really understand why they needed me, so I didn’t give much importance to my mom’s words. And in vain!
Near the entrance to the Pioneer Palace, I was surrounded by a crowd of girls of about my age. They began to hold my hands and demand, “Let’s go with us!”
I said, “These are the prostitutes! Mom was right!“He escaped from them and fled.

Ten years later, when I met my future wife, she told me:
“I wanted to sign up for the Pioneer Palace Dance Circle. As long as they were registered, mostly girls, the girl was accepted there only if she brought a partner. So the girls tried to tempt the boys who went into the other circles to accept them.”

I told her that story.
“We could have met ten years earlier.” I noticed my bride.
I said, “It is unlikely! If I knew it wasn’t a prostitutes, but a dance circle, I’d run even faster!”

How much money from our taxes was spent on the creation of the Novichok?
Why is Novichok inferior to Western analogues?
How can we a 100% lethal outcome?

This and much more in the new investigation of Alexei Navalny on corruption in the field of the development of combat poisons.

One day a friend invited me to a free meeting dedicated to a new fashion industry in which she wanted to work. The meeting was held in a large restaurant with a stage for speakers.

I came early, sat down at a free table closer to the stage and waited for a friend. Suddenly I see two strangers argue emotionally, constantly pointing their fingers at me. They stood far enough so they couldn’t be heard, but I decided to have a conversation about “all the babies are like that...” and got stuck in the phone.

At the end of the meeting, they announce that a ticket for the conference (which at the time was worth 15k) will be played now, and it was already glued under one of the chairs in advance. I checked out, bingo! I have a ticket.

By that time I already knew that the two men were the organizers of the meeting, so I angered them by accidentally sitting in a place specially designed for the pre-selected "winner" :D

Horrible creatures are these “mothers.” I have encountered something similar this year. It was so. Near my house there is one district that I call the "Komsomol town". In the late 1940s and early 1950s. In the last century, they built cozy two-storey brick houses. The area is remotely reminiscent of the American suburbs from Hollywood films. Between these houses spread beautiful, though underground courtyards. Spatial, many greens, pavilions, gardens and shrines.



On weekends, when the weather is sunny, I sometimes go to this Komsomol town, taking a thermos with me, coffee, sandwiches and a good book. I did just that recently. He came to this district, sat down on the bench, poured himself a coffee shop and opened the tomic of Strugacki (decided to read "The City Destined").



Next to my location was a children’s playground. Nearby at 10-12 meters. There were five children playing in silence. I periodically broke away from the book, grabbed coffee and looked around the surroundings. Just to translate the spirit from the story tricks "City". Sometimes my gaze fell on the children who were driving on the pitch, but they were not interested in me more than the loud leaves in the wind or the car that passed far away. Suddenly I heard a woman’s scream:



Why are you sitting here watching our children?



I didn’t even understand at first who it was, what it was about and what it was about. And then I saw two carnivorous girls of the 30s coming up to me because of the playground. They move threateningly, almost stunned. One of them screamed.



Why are you sitting here? Go, go away from here! Now I’ll call your husband, he’ll break your face!



I was almost in shock. The moms were moving, shouting something about the children, about going away, about the fact that my husband is a boxer, etc. I tried to apologize, but my voice drowned in their hole. And I, feeling guilty without guilt, threw the thermos and the book into the backpack, and then hurriedly removed it.



I still go to the Komsomol town, but now I just go for a walk. To sit with a book in the courtyard on the bench or in the pavilion I am now afraid. Little of something.

xxx: And I was asked by a psychiatrist during the replacement procedure if I could not hear the voice. In the corner of the cabinet stood two pots with deadly dried ficus. I said I hear it sometimes. Someone in your office is asking for a drink. Looking through the office, the doctor shaken and promised to fly flowers, gave a certificate. Am I really hearing it???? to

yyy: Capec you are brave, I would honestly not be able to joke at the reception of a psychiatrist especially about voices

XXX: The votes are not allowed.

YYY: I can’t hear :)))

This is for you to the otolaryngologist.

I do repairs in my aunt's apartment, the apartment is in Akademgorodka, there is also a military school nearby, which trains including intelligence. In this same school there are a handful of students of different nationalities, including blacks.

So, I leave this apartment, the time is already dark, but the lighting has not been turned on yet. And then a kind of version of the Baskervili dog moves on me – that is, eyes and mouths, full of teeth, but all this without the body... Just the Negro actually had all the clothes black :).

I say rather from surprise:

You have disguised yourself!

The body is satisfied and

I am studying for the detective.

That’s what, and the “Dick” finally got me :)

I was 5. I went with my father to the garage. Go to go. My dad bought me a bowl of soda and ice cream. Something else I haven’t seen.

We went into the garage and immediately “drawed” some uncle. He knew everyone, everyone greeted him, then me. The case went to the table. Breakfast, vodka and talk. They sat down and talked. I walked through the garage, dealing with my children’s affairs. He broke the nails, twisted some bullets. Broke the grass.

Time to go home. I got instructions from my father – don’t tell my mom! I understood?

I understood what I did not understand. I will not give up my father's father, I decided firmly.

We enter home. I am I, M is my mother.

M: Where were they?

I am in the garage.

M: What did they do?

I : Nothing. I went and looked at the car.

Q: Have you drunk?

I am no.

M: What did you eat?

I am a selenium!

My father and mother laughed a long time. Mom knew why and where he went, and Dad decided to check if I would give him up. No one is a traitor :)

I work in a taxi, and one night I got one interesting passenger. A man under 50 years old in a white shirt and pants. We walk silently for 5 minutes and then he calmly, in full seriousness, asks:

Q. Have you tried humans?

I am not, and you?

P – Yes I tried.

Here I, guessing he or he really has something with his head, decided to play him:

How – and how – is it delicious?

P: You know, it is very delicious. It reminds me of pork.

I heard it taste like chicken.

Q. Who told you that? Give me their names.

I heard it on telecast.

P – A, well...

After a few minutes of silence, he continued.

They went with me to the cemetery.

I – Why?

P – Why Why? Eat the human.

If I taste like pork, I will not go. I love chicken more.

Then we drove quietly. He paid for the trip and went to his house.

I understand, of course, that he is choking (probably), but it was a bit scary anyway.

At the university, there was a subject in the first course called "Science of the Earth". Couples on it went on Saturday morning, so I safely put on it and never appeared in the semester. When the session came, I delayed the visit to the last. In the meantime, a lot of group members went to transfer. When I opened the textbook, I realized that most of the materials on the subject very strongly intersect with the school course of geography (tectonic plates, volcanoes, etc.).Which I loved very much and which was given to me in principle very easily. After reading a couple of chapters, I decided that I would try to bring out on school knowledge. And the day I appeared at the door of the office, a third transfer was given with me by several group members. They sat away from the textbooks and turned around the whistle when they saw me quietly talking on the phone with a friend. At the very start, the prede looked at me inappropriately, apparently in connection with the fact that he saw it for the first time and offered to pull a ticket. I pulled out just the ticket on the subject of which I was doing a lecture in school, respectively deepened into the topic, and minimally prepared asked to go to answer. What was the surprise of the lecturer and all who were in the audience, when I calmly answered the questions of the ticket and a few additional. However, the teacher said he did not remember me at the classes, asked without preparation to try to answer another ticket. That ticket was also known to me from the school program and I began to answer what I could remember. However, after a couple of proposals, the teacher asked for my check-in, so he saw that the material I knew and there was no further reason to question me. This is how I began to hear among one half of the fellow groups lucky, and in the others a briber, although there was no such practice at our university in principle.

It is a strange coincidence, but in all the countries where the proletariat was artificially separated from the people and declared as a separate class-hegemon, the real power was acquired by the parasitic bureaucracy.

A little about effective managers, and "yes behind the fence of such"

I work as an installor. We are building the bridge at the final stage. It is time to start painting. The general contractor contacts with the organization, which is professionally engaged in the painting of bridges and painted all our previous objects, and proclaims the price of 6 million. (I do not know the exact amount). Malaria, categorically disagree to work for such a sum, at least 20 million. The contractor includes the "yes, such behind the fence line" function and finds a contractor ready to paint for 6 million.

A brigade of "painters" arrives at the facility: they are enlisted elementarily by announcement, everyone sees each other for the first time, with the bridges never encountered, and... guess how many among them prof. Malaria... one that they have a type of master and then an automaker.

Well, then everything is predictable: three days they walk around the bridge, not knowing where and how to start. It starts with half grief. Techniques and tools are zero. Everything is rented from us.

Looking at their work, I wanted to laugh... a second, and then you realized that the bridge could not be painted, and the deadlines are not endless, and it was no longer to laugh.

They sanded the metal, immediately washed it, it immediately rusted, they in shock began to sand again. And so once in a while. One day, two... two weeks, they didn’t even start painting.

They worked for less than a month. Work is done zero. Construction control did not take anything. And the time is all on the brink: soon autumn and the bridge is over.

The general contractor connects with the first brigade, agrees for 20 million. They come to the facility and in two weeks made 70 percent.

Everything seemed, conclusions were made, mistakes corrected. by Her.

It is necessary to pull the lighting on the bridge, the general contractor again rows the price, the electricians naturally refuse... and when the general contractor comes to them for the second time, they want not 3, but 5 million.

He says he has a company with 100,000 employees.
Passion to him. The bee holds.

Working Committee was held. The psychiatrist without looking asked questions - "do you have complaints, drugs, alcohol? How do you relieve stress?” I said I was running long distances. The psychiatrist put off the pen, finally looked at me and began to ask, "and how long is it? Isn’t it hard? And what shoes to buy and where is it better to run, or is it boring at the stadium?" It turned out that he recently started running and had a lot of questions about the subject. 5 minutes of conversation. At the exit, in the corridor colleagues looked suspiciously - that so long, not more than a minute was

My friend studied at the university. Summer session, fine weather on the street, not before school. And also the exam was put to her in the last numbers of June, when all had already passed their subjects, and marked the whole. The community walked from morning to night, which did not give a special desire to learn.

My friend took books several times, but it didn’t work. Well, he thinks there are only fifteen questions, in the last day I will learn everything. Before that, you can walk. Said is done.

The last day comes. The girlfriend sleeps until lunch, then cleans, and then something else. But here, to delay the inevitable is no longer possible, you have to sit down to learn.

I got the first ticket. Behind the window a white night, under the window drunk screams of happy classmates who have already closed the session. Not the working environment.

The girlfriend breathes hard, realizing that there are 14 more questions she can’t learn. Well, he thinks, I will learn the last question, he must be the wisest.He copes with the last, decides that everything, quite hard enough, you can sleep, and then whatever will be.

He sits down, but something swells. He stands up again, takes a textbook, randomly chooses a question from the very middle, reads it diagonally, understands that now exactly everything, the forces are over and, having pulled all of the hand, goes to bed.

At the exam, she gets a ticket with the first question. He thinks he is lucky. He waits for his turn, sits at the basement and just perfectly tells him the material. The one who is untrustworthy touches her, takes notice of visits and declares, say, so he thought, in the face he does not remember her, sees that she went once a month, and the first ticket is the easiest. So, my dear, please answer a further question. He gives her a ticket with the last question. The girlfriend is not embarrassed, says that will answer without preparation and begins to tell. A little in shock. Okay, he says, he is good. But I did not actually go to the lecture, so an additional question. Ask a question from the middle of the list. Yes, the same one my friend had read before sleeping.

Again, immediately, without preparation, he begins to respond. However, she soon realizes that she remembered well if half of this question. But the lecturer soon interrupts her, says that he is stunned by the brilliant knowledge of the material, puts it "excellent" and declares that more such talented students would be needed.

Yesterday at the polling station was a witness to this situation.

An elderly couple, having received the ballots, approached the cabin for a "secret vote". The first entered the cabin and voted a woman, after which, dropping the ballot in the urn, did not rush to the exit.

A man shouted to his wife:

You are where?

“I’ll wait for you on the street,” she replied without turning.

Give me your glasses!! For me, the vote will be too secret.

xxx: Honestly, in light of the recent events about that rumored channel in the car, where pick-up masters are taught that girls in glasses to pour, how to track in the crowd and where to beat, I would for the time being warned on dates with a tinder to run.

YYY: Just for the sake of justice – clowns in Tinders are also enough.

Zzzz: They will meet, they will squeeze each other - even if they are squeezed :)

We get a lot of bribes, but often. And punishment for this is inevitable, but it is rare.

Once in the evening shift, the worker threw the maculature into the press and launched the press.

In the press installed "classic" Soviet hydro distributors.
The hydro-distributor (which in theory should be thrown over itself when the nominal effort is reached) - is thrown over when it is desired, as a result of which the workers "press" the press forcibly until the reduction valve works. (which, by the way, the direct text is recommended in the instructions). It can be repaired forever and completely.

and suddenly! (and it always happens suddenly) the press frame breaks at the top of the weld.

At the same time, from the deformation, a crack is formed on the crust of the oil pump on the high side.
The worker is poured with a stream of oil, which is why he is frightened and jumping back.

No means of emergency stop by the operator in the press is provided. at all.
There is no emergency button. Not a splitter. The entire circuit consists of a trigger with a pickup and a pair of conveys.

When it was created, the experience of the leading world manufacturers was taken into account; many nodes and mechanisms in the process of development were replaced by inexpensive and widely distributed domestic analogues. Without the slightest loss in the performance and reliability of the unit.

The "Stop" button on the starter, according to the operator, "was pressed with a crush, and then started to be pressed without a crush, but nothing turns off."

The operator ran to another room to ask the boss what to do now.

The operator was not yet far away as the oil fountain stopped. Exhaustion of oil reserves in the hydro system.
No means of controlling the presence of pressure behind the pump and fluid in front of the pump are provided.
Within a few minutes, while the worker was looking for the boss and they were going to the press - the pump had time to hit the bearing (there are sliding bearings), and he crashed.

There is no momentary muffle or other protection. The electric motor stopped, remaining under tension. The clothes began to warm up.
In the eyes of the operator and the boss, the engine stumbled.

Neither the motor-automat, nor just the machine, nor the inserts or any other means of protection in the circuit of the press is provided.
I repeat.
Not an automatic motor. Not just a machine, not an insert. No other means of protection in the press circuit is provided.

It is believed that the machine must be somewhere else and that is enough.
He was. in the advance. At 63 amperes.
There is no electrician in the office.
While the operator and the bosses were looking for the socket, which includes the press, and pulled out the fork, a loud click occurred, and the smoke went out of the starter.

Thus, in a few minutes, all the nodes and aggregates became useless in the press.

In fact - all of the above is called "easy to get rid of."
Because no one was driven by electricity, and nothing burned (and there was a whole hangar of cardboard and cloth).

The main cause was dirt in the reduction valve, due to which the pressure was exceeded.
Because after another leak (native hydraulic tubes, yes) some liquid of unknown origin was poured into the hydro system.
You may have read the above-mentioned advertisement... but miracles don’t happen!

And poor quality (therefore very quality painted!) welding that did not provide the necessary reserve of strength.

From the stop button banally broke off a piece of plastic.

Have you saved?
It is believed that any imported equipment is more reliable than Russian. However, the experience of people dealing with foreign press shows that this is not always true.
Now the joke aside. I will explain everything now.
Not any one. And the one, in the development and production of which did not save on the lights.
The problems of Russian technology are entirely different.

Let’s look at the entire catalog of presses from the manufacturer and compare the same in mechanics and effort presses, but with different clothes.
Press in the form "as described in this post" - 100 thousand. The rub.
He is, with a button post instead of this miracle - 130 thousand. The rub.
He is also, with a full-fledged control and protection system - 190 thousand. The rub.
Guess which performance is purchased massively, and which exists in one copy for exhibitions?

For reference: similar French press stOit 2950 (I'm stuck, sorry) euro + delivery. And there is no option in it at all when ordering "to give up the control scheme and security chains."

So here: all the cheapness of domestic (and Chinese) production has one reason:
Throw away everything, everything that can be done without.
Well, there can be no "excellence over all analogues and 3-5 times cheaper" in a simple thing without any know-how.

And the reliability of the French press (the same nearby is the purchased b/u of 1988 - still passes without serious problems) - is due to the lack of attempts to save on everything in a row.

It’s a bit stupid for consumers to try to save every penny first and then complain about the manufacturer’s crumbs, isn’t it? It would seem that it could be easier: pay a decent price to the manufacturer - and get a decent product.
And this applies to everything, in general, from a "tushenka" of 19 rubles per bowl to apartments of 20m2 and without parking space.


I talked to a colleague from JCH. We talked about Sam.
He says:
“We brought a German cable here. Fucking full of. If you fold three times, the insulation breaks. It just burns out of a fireplace. As a toast.”
(I think everyone has seen the video of the fuel cheese.)

I became interested. We have half-factory with this cable mounted.
I decided to experiment.

I picked up a piece of cable and started pushing around. It lasted five minutes until my fingers were tired. There is no trace of isolation. Checked with a meger - > 5 MO (very good).
He took a gas burner and tried to burn. The cable burned, deformed, blackened... but never wanted to burn.

It is strange.

The next day a thought came to my mind. Call a colleague: can you say at least roughly, and where did you buy this cable and why?
Purchased in MSK. It’s about four times cheaper than what we buy in Germany. And even cheaper than the usual VHG (so it actually bought it).

But miracles do not happen.
The control question:
What is written on your cable?
Hm... nothing. What should be written there?

In fact, there is written (precisely, printed on the printer along the entire length of the cable) a lot of everything. Manufacturer, type, section, batch number, VDE icon, and length markings through every half-meter.

I see only three options.
Fake cable from a world-renowned manufacturer
Cheap cable for sale in Russia
It wasn’t that cable.
Which is correct, I do not know. I am not a prosecutor, nor an inspector of technical supervision, to find out this, and also in a foreign office.
I do not have to go to prosecutors or inspectors. "Satisfied" customers in a week will shoot me in a dark corner.

In what way is it, masqueraded under the cable, cheese, and in general, under everything, freely sold and purchased?
Here is what.

and briefly:
The correspondent has unhinderedly received a certificate of conformity for non-existent cheese made in non-existent production. A day later, the number of this document appeared in the official register on the Internet.
Deciding that this was a coincidence, we repeated the attempt and accidentally obtained a second registered declaration.
Two days later, the declaration-provided “carpet” of our “production” was ready to be accepted in retail stores.

I only had to spend some money.

“Now we can sell a bucket with the substance to some store, saying that inside is natural cheese. They will believe us. We have officially declared our “product”. And no bureaucratic barriers our new business has met on its way, while no one has seen what we have "produced."

I do not know who is concerned with this. In other words, it is a full PC.
How legal this is, don’t ask, I don’t know. I am an engineer, not a lawyer.

You can sell any name, but under any name. But why do they buy it, and massively?
The answer is banal: 1) cheap and 2) there is no brain in consumers to understand: cheap just doesn’t happen.

This is actively used by local manufacturers and Chinese, and, unfortunately, quite serious and self-respecting offices.
They make a cheap version of the products for sale in Russia.
And if there are administrative restrictions on a-la self-sanction - it can be too expensive to... but to pair.

For housing and other municipal offices, the situation is now generally clear: according to the law, they are obliged to buy the cheapest offer that meets the requirements.
(How “requirements are met” – see above). So, actually, and bought a fake under ___ cable.

The correct approach should be completely different: the cheapest offer must be discarded immediately.

But here is the problem: and the high price does not mean anything at all. And to determine the quality itself is not always possible. Well, it is impossible physically to be an expert at the same time on cheese, cable, furniture, roof materials, screwdrivers, and so on.


It remains only to ask yourself a very simple question - and how is it that people have done normal repairable things for so many centuries, and in the last 15 years as a sum all went in the pursuit of profit. And all this against the backdrop of the fast-growing consumer credit market.

In the 1980s, when the market was not yet sealed, marketers engaged in their usual affairs - describing the merits of new goods.

In the 90s, the market was slightly shrinking and they decided to use them in a broader context - somehow to tie human habits and preferences to a new type of goods. Thus e. Technical characteristics at the same time went to the backdrop, but inertia still remained high. As well as reliability. And it was also used to brainwash consumers. Until the 1990s, all goods were of high quality. The engineers simply did not fit the idea in the brains, how this can be done shit for the end consumer, then marketers expanded this idea a little and deepened it. There was a middle class - high-quality equipment for their money and a top class, which everyone admired. It was, of course, before, this division, but it was marketers who decided to bind classes not to functionality, but to the life of the product. And the niche of cheap Chinese crafts was occupied by the Chinese, who had just begun their journey as a single major manufacturer. And the man in the 90s hardly knew - you can buy shit cheap, you can buy good equipment for normal money, and if you are an oligarch, you can buy space at all.

But the zero market ended, plus there were a few other important changes. In the first, computerization, which on the one hand allowed very accurately to calculate the life of the parts of the product, and in the second, this same computerization now allowed instead of the development of circuit engineering to use the typical microprocessors with the appropriate program and save on the setup needed to add new options. With the term of service really not all went so well. It was possible to accurately calculate only the lifetime of polymer products, almost a week. This is when a new plastic from the factory with a stone can not be broken, but three years pass and it begins to crumble in the fingers. In terms of degradation of electronic components mainly played with heat modes. With wrapping products, this was best done - we took the wire slightly thinner and the transformer is already heating up like a rage and in a year it will probably die, just by the end of the warranty. But the widespread distribution of DC-DC has put a cross on this promising venture. And on motorcycles such a trick is afraid to use, because. You can get into a mass marriage at the height of the guarantee. The same Nicole Greek has a fairy tale about an Opel with a robot box, which fails the adhesive engine due to the wear of the brushes. And after the replacement, he runs the next 100 ticks. That is, they would be happy to reduce the price of the motorcycle itself, but it is scary to get on a mass response. Therefore, they deal with such half-measures. Typical damage. Electronic circuits themselves traditionally use either heavy thermal mode on high-level integration chips, lead-free soldering and small zero resistors as protectors. The latter went very well on the Macbook Air, where the death of such a resistor led to the key with the touchpad. And the new key goes along with the top panel, changes in assembly and costs about 20 thousand. I do not see any special savings here, a purely harmful marketing intent. And with the heavy thermal regime were played by HP engineers, when in the 11th year, almost 100% failure of the northern bridge in certain models, on the seventh month of warranty. A little underestimated, maybe.

Looking at all that shit I want to say. The consumer wants to be cheaper. Of course, marketers do not only impose their stereotypes, but also look back at the consumer to give him the illusion of what he wants and this whole system with positive feedback goes all the way and it would be wrong to explain all the emerging processes only from some one point of view. But the most offensive thing - this is the golden rule of the 90s, when you could choose the quality of the goods at the price now absolutely does not work. Now you will get a whole shit for any cloudy money. Purchasing quality goods has become a lottery.