Rasputin, and it’s not even close. The man was a beast. Had this amazing, sinister and powerful presence. Huge, hulking brute of a fellow, a long wild beard, unwashed mane and a third leg that’d put a horse to shame.
Putin, by contrast, is just a tiny little neurotic man, paranoid and scared of the world. Remember those huge tables during Covid?
Nah, Rasputin was the real deal. A man’s man. A mystic. And he actually was sensible, too — he warned the Tsar not to get involved in WWI. Nicholas II didn’t listen, to his own detriment.
The way Rasputin lived, and the way he died, made him into a legend. Shot, stabbed, clubbed, poisoned, then thrown half-dead underneath the ice where he still tried to claw his way out, his lungs filled with water, evidence of the fact that even when he was thrown in the river, he was still not quite dead. And his body had underwent a ton of abuse by that time, the level of injuries that’d kill ten lesser men. A traveling mystic from the deepest, darkest corner of the country. Bit of a shady past. More mistresses to go through a week than most men will in a lifetime…
You cannot compare such a figure to the type of guy who is so afraid to catch Covid that he sat behind enormous tables just to avoid catching what was essentially a heavier-than-usual flu. Rasputin would have laughed at Putin — and seduced his wife and daughters as he watched.
No comments:
Post a Comment