Book: Apocalypse from Koba. Joseph Stalin: the Last mystery

Titan-thinker in the uniform of Generalissimo. This is it now, my friend. From early morning till night thunders his name. It is impossible to walk - the name immediately rush over you from the street loudspeaker of the house it will follow you into the brain of your radio; do not over lunch to open a newspaper - it will rush with all the pages straight into your soup. Tear up the newspaper, turn off the loudspeaker - the name will carry through the wall from the neighbor's radio, it can be heard from behind the door of the restroom when you are locked out of necessity, can't even hide under a blanket in bed - creep there.
But the Koba - behind the curtain. Only in the days of the celebrations the country sees his face. My great friend long understood: the mystery of the mother of greatness in the East. The Asian God is mysterious. Hitler - the Western God. Person submission, a dictator, a mystic Charmer. Koba - Eastern God, hiding in the dark alone. Hitler the mouth. Coba laconic. But each phrase in the weight of the gold. She immediately flies across the country, endlessly quoted, is written on many placards on the streets and in the parks. And the country learns them by heart, as before taught the gospel.
The God-Man Koba!

We, Georgians, conceited people. Not enough for us to be great. We need to constantly see his greatness in the eyes of another. I was with these eyes. Mirror, looking into which, he saw all his long way.