Reshuffle: A Vladimir Vladimirovich™ Trilogy (part 1)

I have to say that I find the Vladimir Vladimirovich™ sketches uproariously funny in the original Russian. I'm talking about so funny that you can't browse them in class for fear of laughing out loud and revealing to the professor that you're surfing the internet and not engrossed in his/her explication of the finer points of whatever. They used to be available in English, and even appeared in the Moscow Times for awhile a couple or few years ago, but no more. Quite possibly, laughing at them is already passé in trend-conscious Moscow, but if that's the case then I guess I can live with being behind the times.

They're funny because although they're cartoonish, it's not hard to imagine some of the dialogue actually taking place. And because many of them are littered with subtle and not-so-subtle references to political personalities and scandals past and present, which means that some of them can't be fully translated without resorting to footnotes. Anyway, I translated one a couple of days ago, and a couple of readers confirmed for me that the humor translated OK, so I figured I'll keep going. I did attempt to reach the author, but was unable to do so. Because I know people can be sensitive about having their work translated by strangers, I'll be glad to take these down if he doesn't like them, or to let him use them elsewhere (with a translation credit, of course!).

Anyway, as some of the less lightweight Russia bloggers have been discussing, there's been a momentous shuffling of bigwigs in Moscow. The genius behind Vladimir.vladimirovich.ru has his own take on these events, which unfolds in the format of a trilogy. Here is part one (original Russian, dated Feb. 16, is available here):

Once upon a time Vladimir Vladimirovich™ Putin was sitting in his Kremlin office and furiously hitting the "refresh" button on the internet browser on his presidential computer. The browser was open to vladimir.vladimirovich.ru. The most recent story was dated February second, 2007.

"Two weeks!" cried Vladimir Vladimirovich™ angrily, continuing to press the "refresh" button. "Two weeks and not a single new story! Now he's really being rude!"

Vladimir Vladimirovich™ quickly pressed the call button for his deputy chief of his administration, Vladislav Yur'evich Surkov.

"Hey, bro," said Vladimir Vladimirovich™ quickly. "What's up with that jackass of yours, has he no decency at all?"

"What's the deal?" wondered Vladislav Yur'evich.

"Two weeks and not a single new story!" exclaimed Vladimir Vladimirovich™. "You tell me, how am I supposed to run the country?!"

"It's just that..." muttered Vladislav Yur'evich, "He says he like, doesn't have anything to write about anymore. That everything in the country is, like, OK, and we even got some snow, finally. But this really is a disgrace, of course..."

"Oh he doesn't have anything to write about, eh?!" sputtered Vladimir Vladimirovich™. "And my speech in Munich?! Who does he think I made that speech in Munich for?!"

"Oh I understand," answered Vladislav Yur'evich, guiltily. "But after all, you can't force an artist... they're like children, after all...

"I'll show him children," growled Vladimir Vladimirovich™. "Children, are they?... Give me two names!"

"What?" Vladislav Yur'evich didn't get it.

"Name two people!" repeated Vladimir Vladimirovich™.

"We-e-ll," Vladislav Yur'evich took a moment to think. "Let's say...uh...Kadyrov. And Ivanov."

"So, Kadyrov and Ivanov," muttered Vladimir Vladimirovich™, suddenly grabbing a stack of the special paper used for writing presidential decrees. "He's got nothing to write about, has he?... Oh, I'll give him something to write about."

And Vladimir Vladimirovich™ took his presidential Parker out of his suitjacket pocket.