The flowers killed the dinosaurs.
It sounds so great that I don’t even want to decipher it first. How could these bright little angiosperms kill such giants?
And yet.
The world is always changing, right this minute. But the changes are so microscopic that we cannot watch them. Once there was a failure in the genes of plants – and a few million years later a delicate flower came into the world that killed a large lizard.
And we thought the dinosaurs were taken to the afterlife by a giant meteorite or asteroid.
However, if celestial mechanics were to blame (oh, how I love that phrase), then there is an opinion that such extinctions would occur every 10-15 million years, but not so catastrophically in the annals of the Earth.
Is it the poisons in some of these prehistoric small flowers, or is it the wider distribution of small herbivores that are more selective and begin to eat other, non-poisonous flowering plant species, and therefore slowly grow, grow, and evolve into larger animals? The exact cause of the decline of the dinosaur dynasty is unknown.
But one day, the already grown animals looked around (such a slow head turn over a million years) and thought: “Why shouldn’t we be hunters, for example?”
In general, he was already unstoppable.
And although at first they only ate insects, snails and worms, but already when you get to the size of a cat, giant lizards suddenly have a problem that they can not cope with.
No, of course, the new predators will not attack the giants themselves (this is the same as when we attack a moving five-story building), and even their offspring will not attack. But there are always eggs. And little dinosaurs that just came out of them.
Just emerged, a small monster pierced the darkness of the ancestral mother’s egg, realized itself, and was only the size of a chicken or chicken. (Actually, here’s the answer to the question: What was there before – an egg or a chicken? An egg, of course. Chickens didn’t exist then.)
When you get too big but are forced to ovulate, problems await you with every big step you take. An incredible discovery was once made in India: a dinosaur nest in which two eggs lay side by side, a hatched baby and a giant three-meter snake.
The snake was obviously waiting for new prey to appear in the nest. What really interrupts this scene of the cycle of life and death in a single nest is unknown. But now they are together forever: the two sleep forever in an opaque egg bottle, and one is born, but quickly dies and is murdered.
But the real killer grew and swayed there, with the myriad flower heads nearby. Miracle-Yudo, Snake-Gorynych, seven-flowered flower, red flower, Novalis blue flower, Azores (zchrknt) Rose that fell into the clutches of Tyrannosaurus Rex. The kind can sometimes kill the rude. If you try.
…In this crazy Moscow heat of the last weeks, I feel like a dinosaur who is about to die (which is unreasonable, they love the heat), knowing that the end is near.
I even remember asking my sound engineer a question when I walked into the studio just two kilometers from a hot city: “Why is everything so unfairly arranged? We are so dependent on water that we are now easily tortured, blackmailed and killed. Just don’t let us drink. In fact, we are doomed. Why has evolution treated us so badly?”
And why is not clear, but suddenly we asked ourselves: How does a lizard drink? Is she practicing with a forked tongue?
It turned out to be yes then. If this is an ordinary lizard near Moscow, it jumps into the water with its tongue like a kitten. And if he lives in the desert, he knows how to get leather drunk.
… None of the Kuntsevo lizards (they are still asleep, in their happy suspended animation) could not hear how a couple came to the cottage near Moscow in early spring: he, loud, stomping, he … But we do not hear, I do not know what it is. We only know heels.
Miner! You didn’t take off your shoes.
How tall are they! How high did they fly!
Nothing. There is no shore and no purpose.
Just merry muffled bodies
Beds rush carelessly.
But I’m lying. If we search, we will recognize the name and even find out what the woman looked like when the poet Pavel Vasiliev came here Kuntsevo cottage, on the suburban train in 1931, in April or May; underground, behind the foundation, in an unawakened place, a lizard near Moscow, in a hut, which, by the way, never descended from the dinosaurs, because this is a branch of parallel evolution.
But what are they, these two, lizards and snarling passionately for evolution? It is evolution, though, that dishonored them into each other’s arms.
Yes, are you shouting? I will teach you to forget
Walk, run, drive and race
you have no right to be equal
But you have the right to drown.
you are falling. you are cold. fall, shut up
For us, for the damned, for the prisoners.
Long live the desert riders,
Restrain untamed horses!
Hurray! .. More, more … And nonsense
Spread like hips… Past
Let the waves crash, the lights go out
In the crimson tufts of twisted smoke,
Let you hear. . . . . . . . . .
. . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . .
Why is everything so unfair? We are very dependent on love, on people, on the will of another, at a time when it is very easy to cut off our energy, turn it off, kill us. In fact, we are doomed.
I read somewhere that after his first arrest, Pavel Vasiliev was given the opportunity to live in the Kuntsevo cottage by a man with a blurred biography (someone considered him a provocateur). But what did Vasiliev care about with this: he was never careful and had nowhere to live. Three years probation isn’t such a terrible sentence.
And here the poem “Love in Kuntsevo Dacha” is written. And now there is also the name of a woman in heels: this is Galina Anuchina. And despite the first arrest of Pavel, he remembers that time as the happiest moment of his life – after all, he came back later.
However, in February 1937, Vasilyev was arrested for the third time. And it will be shot on July 16.
At the very beginning of this marvelous poem full of bull health, an unseen policeman trembles, voice only, to the side, to the sides, “police whistle” is given by the trill.
The irony of fate and the text is that at a completely different time, a person who sang a policeman (yes, yes, a vowel disappeared, but that’s exactly what we say in oral speech, reduction), also died on July 16. in 2007. Dmitry Alexandrovich Prigov.
We remember your hero Dmitry Alexandrovich:
A star stands in the clear sky
Darkness behind, a host in front
And time is ticking
converted to numbers
Flows down the funnel
This is the central unit of measure.
where is the police at the police station
Stands up and doesn’t take his eyes off
They are very different – Vasiliev and Prigov. He was going to meet – they did not understand each other.
Just like unrelated, dinosaurs and lizards, unimaginable in the neighborhood, like those primitive flowers and present flowers.
But still. One day he marked them (with a black stone).
The water of life is gone, the dryness of death has come. Not recording anything after itself.
But poetry remains.
And the couple goes to the Kuntsevskaya cottage, waving on the train. But fate, death, gets into a police car (without “and” and “she”, but in a white cap). Or stop at an intersection. “Your documents,” she says.
Source: Gazeta
