THE BLOGGING WILL CONTINUE UNTIL MORALE IMPROVES
Blog updates, thank-yous, and apologies
Today marks almost four years of Edward Slavsquat. Overcome by the mind-melting absurdities of The Global War to Flatten the Curve, I loaded up Substack and created this here blog. The inaugural post was published on October 19, 2021.
I started the blog while living in a suburb of Moscow. I am presently marooned in Alexandria, Egypt. The passage of time plays funny tricks.
It’s been a wild ride as I’ve tried my best to wind and weave through the unrelenting chaos of the last four years.
Nonetheless, I consider myself eternally blessed for having the rare privilege of observing the events of the last two years from my stove-heated, plumbing-free perch in rural Novgorod.
Why I went to the village
In January 2022, I received a peculiar but highly intriguing e-mail proposition: Would I be interested in buying a house in a village I’d never visited, located in an oblast I’d never been in, as part of a burgeoning collective farm-thing being organized by two city slickers from St. Petersburg who had no idea what they were doing?
Of course, even when I was neglecting my blog-duties—and oh, how I neglected them—I was surrounded by a different kind of endless chaos in the village: the good kind, the kind that smelled of cow manure.
I wish I could pretend I always greeted this mayhem with an enthusiastic smile, but in truth, I was constantly whining and complaining and ready to give up. My partner and village co-conspirator Katya was very patient with me.
We reached Peak Village Chaos in the spring of 2024, after Potato the dog gave birth to ten—yes, ten—puppies. Counting the cows, goats, kittens, and chickens, at one point the Edward Institute was steward of more than 30 animals. Thankfully, Irina the farm manager took on primary responsibility for the cows and goats, performing her duties heroically, with incredible tenderness and care for their well-being. (One day I will give a full retelling of her incredible exploits. Have you ever tried milking a cow in sub-zero temperatures, with tears of exhaustion rolling down your frozen cheeks? What a Novgorod legend.)
Yes, there was chaos. Beautiful, dirty, exhausting chaos.
If you will give me 1 minute and 43 seconds of your time, I have compiled a video montage that does a decent job of demonstrating the pure chaos I’m struggling to describe with words:
All of the puppies were later adopted by nice Russians, in case you were worried.
And now for some updates pertaining to my future plans and the general trajectory of the blog.
I regret to report that there is still no clarity about when, or if, Katya—who was inexplicably deported from Russia in July—will be allowed to return to the country she has called home for more than a quarter-century.
With the assistance of her Russian lawyer, last week she submitted another letter to the FSB asking, again, if she was prohibited from entry, and reminding them of their legal obligation to respond.
Under Russian law, the FSB is supposed to answer such requests within 30 days. It has now been roughly 60 days since the FSB received her initial request.
It seems increasingly unlikely that Katya will get an answer to her very reasonable question (“Can someone who has lived in Russia for almost 30 years, raised a child there, and devoted her life to making Russia’s vast cultural riches available to English speakers, return to the country she loves?”).
I must emphasize that Katya isn’t making any demands—she simply wants to know if she is or isn’t allowed to return to Russia. Surely this isn’t too much to ask? For reasons beyond my comprehension, Katya can’t even get a curt “yes” or “no” from the FSB. A bit uncouth, if we’re being honest.
As lovely as Alexandria is, Katya and I can’t wait here indefinitely for a response that may never come. We plan to fly to the United States sometime in November. After that, we don’t really know.
I have received messages from readers hailing from all corners of the globe offering us refuge while we plan our next moves. Thank you, and thank you to all the readers who left kind comments on the blog. Katya was very moved, let me tell you. In the coming days I will do my best to respond to each of you. It really does mean a lot.
(By the way: It’s possible that friends, acquaintances, and blog-colleagues have attempted to reach out to me via my personal Telegram account. I no longer have access to this account. You can always email me, though.)
I don’t want to make any promises, but it’s possible that Katya and I might take a series of sketchy coach buses across the United States to come visit some of you.
Moving on to blog-matters: You’ve probably noticed a sharp uptick in output. Without my animals, woodpiles, and wheelbarrow water-hauling, I have nothing else to do except blog. So you will just have to suffer through it. Sorry about that.
In related news, I have added categories to the blog to make navigating its contents more safe and convenient. Assigning categories to blog posts spanning four years takes time, so this is an ongoing process.
Over the next 6-12 months, I would like to compile a small e-book of short stories about my time in the village. Five or six tales are already incubating in the back of my noodle. These works would be combined with polished versions of village adventures that I’ve published on the blog. An archive of these already-existing stories can be found in the Village Dispatches (EIVS) category.
This book might also include, and expand upon, my zany stories from Czechia and Tbilisi.
If this electronic volume does come to fruition, it will be free-to-read for paid subscribers. Lord knows I owe them as much; I have abused their generosity for far too long.
Maybe down the road I could even release a hardcover edition with a forward by Herman Gref. He wrote a preface for Klaus Schwab’s book, so why not mine? Fingers crossed!
Finally, I would like to extend a truly heartfelt thanks to those who have offered suggestions, and took immediate action, to help preserve Marko Marjanović’s written legacy.
One reader, Wesley, emailed me within minutes of reading my appeal for help on this matter. He was able to create a compressed 3-gigabyte file, which in theory should contain all of the articles Marko published on anti-empire.com.
Creating an archive of his Substack has proven to be more challenging, but for now it can still be accessed by visiting: https://substack.com/@antiempire (the domain that Marko used to redirect to his Substack, anti-empire.org, has expired, and for reasons I don’t understand, this causes a blank page to appear when you try to visit antiempire.substack.com).
I am just beginning to sift through the files that Wesley was able to download. Although I am confident he was able to archive everything—or close to it—please do not let me discourage you from your own attempts to save Marko’s work for posterity. The more archives the merrier, as far as I’m concerned. Thank you again, Wesley.
As promised, in the coming days I will start to republish Marko’s eye-opening journalism here on the blog.
Marko was blacklisted by governments, tech giants, and much of “alternative” media. He will be permanently whitelisted on Edward Slavsquat.
I still don’t know Marko’s cause of death. Does anyone know? Any and all help with obtaining this information would be most welcome. On a related note, I would like to correct a factual error in my post honoring his memory.
When I wrote that I learned of his death “while combing the internet for clues to his possible whereabouts”, what I really should have written was: “Katya spent two sleepless nights scouring the internet for information about what had happened to him.”
Yes, I did send Marko multiple emails and Telegram messages, and looked for possible leads on his social media pages. But it was Katya and Katya alone who made the terrible discovery after hours and hours of searching. I shared the news article she found with a group of blog-friends before publishing my eulogy for Marko the next day. Katya, who possesses saint-like humility and selflessness, didn’t want me to bring this up, but the fact that she went to such lengths to try to find out where Marko had gone speaks volumes to how much he means to so many of us.
The video montage just made my day 🥹 - a beautifully chaotic and joyful experience.
May there be many happy returns for you and Katya, to the Motherland. It's what people crave.
If you make it back to SoCal. Hit me up. If you need one, you will receive a free surf lesson - probably at Venice Pier... But who knows?