Insanity #10 30 ноября 2001

Будущее Спектрума

collapse of the Spectrum in Nizhny Novgorod - ProgMaster states.

Obituary: The Collapse of the Spectrum in the Lower
$% Prog Master / Sinc Masters Creative Group



                           No forgiveness for the dying 
Spectrum ... 


  As a preface just say that at the Nizhny Novgorod
radio market I have not been seen by more than half of the 
year. Here we go again spring came. Here and there, in spite of 
drivers and pedestrians, any pools (think about how to stand at 
the bus stop you from head to toe effusions passing machine). 
And what a terrible mud, mud! On the asphalt began to manifest 
namusorennye vtechenii winter candy wrappers, crumpled beer 
cans, broken bottles. Torn pieces of paper and cellophane 
apparently Departing from a nearby dumpster, shy

waiting for the janitor.


  At the Moscow train station in search of violators of public
about walking is not coming to his senses from sleep staff
police. Here and there, drowning each other, rosy woman
offer to buy from them belyashi with meat pies kartoshtoy,
pasties. An elderly woman in a black jacket worn trades
sunflower seeds, arhisom and yet God knows what else. And 
here's another peddler sunflower seeds. It seems that she and a 
young, but she clearly Vidocq not conducive to good business. 
Her face was copper-colored with large bags under his eyes and 
a map of the Lower the nose to view speakers bluish blood 
vessels clearly converges with selling old woman next to her.



  Of the columns, standing beside a stall heard their music
resentful wheeze pop decibels. That's right, is on what
offended. A good master in this weather the dog on the street 
is not vygonet. And their careless owners put right in not had 
time to melt the snow hill. Around the stall trying to practice

dance towards a woman, as usual, escaped from
home wizards. Dances peculiar, improvising, and most importantly
- Absolutely free (cheap and cheerful). But before Michael 
Jackson she needs a little bit more podtrenerovatsya.



  Side by side on a bench perched although dirty and pissing, 
but Drunken homeless and peaceful. Here is one of the Public 
Guardian Order your fingertips, if makes a slop bucket from home

dragged to the exit of the station building of a drunken uncle.
He is obedient, like a dog on a leash. But behind
them, adjusting light, but very humiliating kicks young
ment vyturivaet out offended to tears by the homeless.


  The sea of ​​people, you might think, gathered from all over
Lower to the concert aria ", just patiently waiting
tram. Grandmother indvalidka second group is two
dimensionless bags on the preponderance and the carriage on 
small wheels attached to her bag. Here's a jerk

bummed in solid guys with a pager cigarette. And there is
Ebony, whose face reminds me of the color of my izsine-black 
shoes. 


  Nearby there are nice girls and nice talk, obviously
discussing the complexion black. And here stands tall,
well dressed skinny guy, the black robes that come in
contrast with his pale face, and only his hair, which is clearly
say that he saved a lot on hairdressers and ryukzachek
with the words "Nirvana" distinguish it from the priest.


  This guy is H.


  The priest (or psevdosvyaschennik) costs about underground
transition and loudly chanted the prayer reads. On his neck 
hangs box with a slot, something like a fisherman's chest, and

Passers razzhaloblennye drawling voice clergymen
lowered the money in the hole.


  The crowd alert: on the horizon appeared a tram. Little blue,
consisting of just one car, decorated with tattered
sticker with talking on a cell by women, he was prepared to
their assault. Standing near a window tram, and towering above
passengers, at least two heads, the guy smiles
happy smile: storm is over.


  This guy knows what the tram ceiling is much higher than in
buses, minibuses and proliferated in recent years
ghazals, so he stood at full height without fear of
catch her long black hair for some
treacherous stud in the ceiling. Removed his backpack from his 
shoulder and took it in the right hand, so calm, mischievous 
people today. He remember the case of the shuttle bus when a 
young woman's right to his eyes, two guys pulled a purse from 
the bag and immediately went to the next stop. The woman 
discovered the loss, ran after for them, and they have already 
gone. 


  In the window, flashed a giant yellow building at the foot
which had stood Shop "Building Materials" - now
it was renamed "Furniture". This means that the following will
my stop.


  "Ashgabat" - squeaked loud speaker tram and high-
passed a guy with a stream in the open door of the tram. "Here 
it is - radio market - my main objective segodneshnego day "- 
he thought, and avoiding the tram in front, walked along the 
path to the site destination.



  As always, near the entrance of the radio market, hang out, 
loudly cursing in his gibberish, the brigade of Georgians. 
"Details are renting? - they are interested passers-by. Long 
boy knew that match- boxes of capacitors at radio costs more 
than two hundred rubles I knew it, and that most Caucasians are 
not a damn versed in radio engineering, because he was known to 
the saga of how some guy from an old radio parts nadergal

TV nitro paint them green, for rassoval
matchbox and told Georgians that it is best that neither
there are capacitors, and thus get a good financial
revenue.


  He guessed that deceive them nothing, just
as well as adults can spend the child, but to do it this
will not: firstly considered himself quite an honest man, and
money earned in this way clearly did not give it to sleep
night, and secondly, he does not want this visit to the radio 
market was his last visit.



  - Hey man, can you which disks are interested in? - Shouted
seller compacts - I probably have everything you need!


  - Yes, I'm interested in free compacts. - Lazily said
the guy with the words "Nirvana" at the backpack, and not 
waiting for an answer walked into the radio market. He was 
certain, and perhaps Only he knows the goal and he was not 
going to dwell on all sorts of trifles, and spend time (and 
money) for unnecessary him the moment things.



  Here Ryukzachek passed series, where shifting from foot to 
foot traders are PiSishnym junk. Greeted with one of them -

Lower-wise bespectacled man in a dark green jacket, and
moved a little forward.


  Here he is - the most coveted table, where usually each
Saturday and Sunday selling Spectrum lapuhami,
disk drives, and system block old CT-SAM. The entire trading
table is usually littered with like wallpapers, screenshots of 
the games Demonstrations and Gift. At the table, usually lying

three or four hefty catalog of software.


  But where is he? Old mustachioed uncle with protruding 
forward incisors and thus similar to a ground squirrel from the 
cartoon Winnie the Pooh standing near a table piled on old 
pisishnyh trinkets: Boards of three screws, the giant on the 
visual size, and not by containers that can be successfully 
used for chopping nuts, dusty dot matrix printer and splodgy 
Sidir attract Hunting for cheap beushnye components.



  How so? " Really old CT-SAM stopped trading
software and sent all spektrumistov Lower and
its surroundings to hell?


  The guy with the backpack exchanged a few words with Gopher 
and all has become abundantly clear: Sinklerist already more 
than half a year is not trades on the market. Spectrum in 
Nizhny Novgorod, an untimely died. He died, and the first 
symptoms of his death has already manifested when CT-SAM ceased 
trading on Saturday, and according to pisishnogo magpie, the 
day of the week, he ranked spektrumista.



  So it was a couple of months and then he stopped showing up 
at all, and its commercial paper tray was entirely at the 
disposal of ground squirrels. All of course - and enthusiasm 
Sam'a also came to nothing. It is for myself decided that 
trading in the radio market programs for the Spectrum - waste 
of time, though, for sure in his heart he knows that This is 
not the case. 


  Now you, dear readers, know how the death occurred in the ZX
Nizhny Novgorod.