We keep repeating: "Oh Lord, we've been through worse!" We say: "We've already gone through all this, and the ruble didn't just fall by half — it fell by four times, and nothing happened!" We cross ourselves: "The main thing is for everyone to be healthy, and money — what is money! It's not 1937, they're not shooting people for jokes!"

Our people are resilient, accustomed to not eating, not complaining, and resistant to the cold. Their savings were taken, they were deceived with vouchers, and food stamps were given instead of products. And in general — what is the euro compared to the defense of Stalingrad!

True. Of course, we survived it. Of course, we went through it. And thank goodness they're not shooting us. Yes, the Russian people are indestructible. But today, we are not burying the Russian people.

And we are not burying the Russian oligarchs today either: everyone who could has long since transferred all their money abroad, placed it in the Cayman Islands, in Zurich shelters, or invested in American real estate, and they themselves live more likely in London than in the jurisdiction of the Investigative Committee.

And for the same reasons, our officials, heads of state corporations, and other fairground patriots have sent their savings there as well. That's why they are so serene, that's why they advise us to relax and enjoy ourselves, because all their money has long been evacuated from our uncomfortable country. What difference does it make to them if the ruble falls or rises? It's not even very interesting to watch its fluctuations. So, it's also too early to bury the Russian bureaucracy.

But we are burying the Russian middle class.

Was there ever one in Russia? Who do we mean by this middle class?

All those who earned enough to spend major holidays in Paris, or at least got used to vacationing in Turkey. All those who managed to switch from "Zhiguli" to "Kia," or even from "Kia" to "Volkswagen." Those who liked Finnish butter and Dutch cheese. Those who got used to dressing in Spanish mass brands, or even in genuine Italian ones. All those who had the fortune to learn what Europe is and what a standard of living is, even if just a glimpse, but with their own eyes — not in reports from "Vesti" or "International Panorama." And finally, those who, having become arrogant from these excesses, unfamiliar and harmful to the Russian people, imagined for a second that they too were a people no worse than the Europeans, craved the forbidden, and went to Bolotnaya and Sakharov.

Recognize yourselves?

Six months ago, you earned two thousand euros, and today only a thousand. And tomorrow, it will be five hundred. And the day after tomorrow — only God knows, so don't make any predictions. Six months ago, you flew to Rome for the holidays, to the rotten Pattaya — and now to Simferopol, perhaps you'll finally love it out of desperation. Yesterday, you were still eating your stinky parmesan, despite all the measures, and now — try approaching it at a thousand rubles a crumb. No problem. You'll chew on Kostroma cheese. It also has a strong smell. And forget about German cars! It's time to punish the Germans for their treachery, and a Russian person, in principle, should ride the metro, as it reduces traffic jams.

Enough of the barren and harmful dreams! Think about the essentials: how to make ends meet and where to get food. Abundance could never lead a Russian person to anything good! From excess money, they get indigestion, and from excursions into European life, their self-esteem swells. The middle class is unnatural to the very structure of Russian life and harmful, harmful to the Russian state!

What the state needs are: the rabble and the destitute, grateful to it for any handouts and ready to put their hollow heads under any slop, and the thieving boyars, living a step away from the tsar's grace and a step away from a fierce and sudden execution, and the loyal oprichnina, to keep everyone in fear, and the tsar, to despise and rule over them; and the tsar can only answer to God. Thus it has been from time immemorial and will be for eternity: under the emperor, under the reds, under Putin, and everywhere beyond.

That's why Putin loves Uralvagonzavod — and doesn't love small businesses. That's why he is the magnanimous patron of the military and teachers — and the magnanimous enemy of the creative class. He doesn't need the creative class, and he doesn't need individual entrepreneurs; and office workers are useless to him. Anyone who earns a decent living by their own labor owes nothing to the state, and this makes them a potential rebel.

The middle class imagines it has some rights. The middle class demands accountability from the authorities. It wants the power — what heresy! — to change! The middle class, let's cross ourselves, overthrew absolute monarchies in England and France!

But this trick won't work with us!

And there's no need to physically destroy this harmful class, we're not in the Middle Ages here, unfortunately. It's enough just to take away three-quarters of their money — and they will forget their whims, but remember instead the sacred horror and reverence before the Authority, unpredictable and inexorable, like fate itself. They will become normal Russian people again — resilient, frost-resistant, and agreeable to everything.

Farewell, Russian middle class. Your era was short, happy, and bright, like any childhood. You will be buried modestly, not in luxury, and an aspen cross will be stuck in your grave just in case.

Sleep peacefully, middle class. Eat dust.