the Ringing cedars of Russia
Vladimir Megre English translation by John Woodsworth

Book 5. Who are we? (2001)



I listened to the unknown speaker’s report on the audiocas-sette a second time. It made absolutely no difference to me who this person was. The conclusions he reached had such an effect on me that not only did I not have any desire to continue writing, but my life itself began to seem meaningless.

Anastasia’s concept of Man’s significance was actually starting to grow on me — about how each Man is the beloved child of God, that he can be happy right here on the Earth. One only needs to gain a proper understanding of one’s purpose. I believed Anastasia and believed in the possibility of changing our life today for the better by transforming our lifestyle and building new communities.

But all my faith collapsed after hearing what was on the cassette. The thing was that the facts cited by the speaker re-garding the coincidences that had happened to me — which, in his words, formed a pattern — were spot on. Everything he said actually happened, and more. There were other things I knew about besides — things they hadn’t been able to establish.

It all did happen the way he said, and that means that I’ve simply been a puppet in somebody’s hands. It doesn’t really matter whose — Anastasia’s, or some kind of forces or energy — that’s not important. What matters is that I, as a Man, am nothing — I don’t exist. What exists is my flesh, which is so easily controllable by someone through arranged ‘coincidences’. It would be all right if I were the only one who could be controlled. But there may very well be other people under someone’s control from above, or maybe someone on high is controlling all humanity, and all humanity is just a plaything for an invisible someone, someone imperceptible to our human minds.

I didn’t want to be anyone’s plaything, but the facts cited in the report argue incontestably that I’m nothing, I’m being controlled — and this is clearly manifest. I can see it backed up by facts I know all too well myself.

Whatever happened to me on Cyprus wasn’t bad — quite the contrary, it was good! But that’s not the point! If an invisible someone has arranged a chain ofwonderful coincidences, then tomorrow it may come into somebody else’s head to arrange another, not so wonderful chain of coincidences. This is relegating Man to the status of a plaything. And what about mankind as a whole? How could I not have realised before that some kind of forces are playing with all mankind, like children with toy soldiers?!

When Anastasia talked about God and co-creation back in the taiga, it was as though some kind of curtain had parted as a result of her words.

For the first time in my life I pictured God not as some kind of amorphous, incomprehensible being or an old man sitting on a cloud — but as a Person, capable of feeling, experiencing concern, dreaming and creating. My impressions from what Anastasia told me were more vivid and more comprehensible than anything I had ever heard or read before on the subject. And that wasn’t all! When she spoke, my heart felt good and not so lonely. Which means: He exists! He can be understood and He acts. He is wise and good. And this is confirmed by His creation all around us — the cedars, the grass, the birds and the beasts. There in the taiga, in Anastasia’s glade, they are all somehow kindly, not aggressive.

We’re so accustomed to taking His creations for granted — we hardly pay any attention to them, but we try to appreciate

Him through something else instead. Through some kind of secret doctrines. And we wander the planet looking for hidden sacred places, looking for teachers, looking for teachings. Now if that isn’t truly absurd! A complete absence of logic! If we talk about God as our good Father, then how can we assume that He will conceal something good from His children? There is nothing He has hid or concealed from people — His children. On the contrary, He always endeavours to be right beside them. What power is it that opposes Him? What power has so mesmerised us that we through our lifestyle have placed the whole planet — this splendid Earth which He has given us — under the threat of global disaster? What power is toying with us?

Every evening we see the glow emanating from the windows of our many-storeyed apartment blocks. Behind every window people’s lives are unfolding. And how many of them, how many of these lives are really happy in this world? We talk about morality, love and culture, we all try to present an appearance of decency. But in reality? But in reality, even by the most conservative estimate, every other man, though outwardly decent, is fooling around with women on the sly — unbeknownst to his family, which still presents a decent appearance.

What is one of the most lucrative sources of our national government’s income? Vodka and cigarettes. The State still maintains a tight hold on its monopoly here. But who does the drinking? The winos lolling about our fences and apartment-block lobbies? Well, of course, they drink, too. But they don’t have the financial clout to sustain the hundreds of our flourishing factories spewing out rivers of spirits. No, it is the outwardly decent and respectable folk who constitute the bulk of the consumer market here.

We maintain huge police forces, not to mention personal security services and private investigative teams. What for?

To round up all the winos and philanderers? Nonsense! With the forces at its disposal Internal Affairs1 could go and collect them all in a single day; It’s not them they’re after, but outwardly decent folk.

Just think — here we have a whole army of “special services”, and believe me, they do not sit around with time on their hands. Which means there must be a whole army out there working against them! Which means that here a constant warfare is being waged, and we are all sitting right on the border between the warring parties, financing both sides. We attempt to improve the technical capabilties of one of the belligerents — namely, our organs of law enforcement, yet at the same time the other side is also upgrading its own technical prowess, and financing it from our pockets, too. After all, money has only one source — human labour. And the war is being waged on an ever more technically advanced level.

And it’s not just a one-year or two-year conflict. It’s all been going on for millennia. And nobody knows where it all started or who can put an end to it. And we’re right in the midst of the action, and not one of us is neutral — we’re all participants. We’re all participants in a never-ending war. Some of us are directly involved in the fighting, some finance it willingly or unwillingly, others manufacture the arms for it. But we all proceed under the mask of decency, talking about science, technology and culture.

As an intensively developing, intelligent civilisation, we make ourselves look smart and utter the slogans of scientific and technical progress. Well, you smart civilisation, what about all the stinking water coming out of your taps? How did you ever think up, especially with that smart appearance

of yours, this business of forcing people to buy their drinking water in bottles? Water which gets more expensive day by day?

We are unwilling to take off our masks of decency. But why? Why do we inevitably complicate our lives this way year after year? Why are we moving so inexorably toward some stinking cesspool? And we are moving toward it, even if we don’t want to admit it to ourselves. Why is nobody stopping this movement?

We have religious denominations aplenty But not one of them can stop this movement. What if they can’t stop it completely, but just slow it down? If so, then that would be a form of sadism, only prolonging the period of torture. We go on thinking of ourselves as being a smart and decent civilisation, but why, in this smart civilisation, are women losing interest in having children? Statistics are already showing us that our nation is dying out. What kind of forces are making a complete nutcase out of Man?


For a whole week I was depressed and apathetic about everything. I simply lay in bed the whole time and hardly had a bite to eat. Toward the end of the week I was suddenly overcome by fits of anger — even rage. I felt like doing at least something to counteract these forces. It didn’t matter what kind of forces they were — dark or bright. Just to spite anything that was trying to control us... To show them that Man is capable of coming out from under their control.

But what could I do to spite them? If they — or Anastasia along with them — wanted me to write, then I would refuse to write. If meat was off limits, then I’d eat meat, and smoke and drink too. Judging by their actions, they wouldn’t like that. Well just let them try and stop me!

I drank every day for a whole month. The stupor relieved me temporarily, but then came the sobriety of the following morning, and all the bad thoughts flared up in me once more. Why had I been writing? I was trying to be honest, while all along I was simply becoming a toy of amusement in good- ness-knows-whose hands.

At night-time, after getting thoroughly drunk, I would make my way along the wall to my bed. And how I wanted to cry out — cry out so that my grandchildren and great-grandchildren could hear! So that they could hear and understand! Understand!!! I’d been writing because I couldn’t take the lie of the mask any longer! I was trying to find a way out!

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