For the vast majority of my life I believed in the general sincerity of our governance. I mean, I didn’t accept everything that they said, I knew that they’d obfuscate to suit their own political agendas, but on the big stuff, when push came to shove, I trusted that we were led by people who would not directly lie while looking you in the eyes.

Now, I don’t want to suggest that I believed in a rigid, black and white Cold War dichotomy.

I understood that there were nuances and that the truth was round, rather than two-sided, but I did think that Western Democracies abided by some immutable principles and were to the best of their ability, “good.”

Well, when the US government cynically lied to it’s own people about Iraq having Weapons of Mass Destruction, and then went ahead and invaded the nation, resulting in the death of perhaps one million Iraqis, all the while knowing that Saudi Arabia was actually the country that nurtured the 9/11 terrorists, my child-like faith was forever shattered.

It was simply astounding to me that something so calculated, something so evil, could take place, and take place without a revolution of protest erupting in our streets.

I now view authority with a level of skepticism that I did not before, understanding that those in power always have more to protect and gain by lying than those outside of power. And so it was that I went to see the documentary Citizenfour last week.

It’s actually more of a living historical document than it is a movie, I think, as it’s a real time presentation of Edward Snowden, over an eight-day period, as he leaked NSA documents to some journalists and the film-maker in a hotel room.

It’s a startlingly media-savvy and perhaps unprecedented way to conduct a leak, and that alone gave the movie a surreal, kind of theatrical feeling. Snowden was very consciously “presenting” himself and his motives to the world. He was, in a sense, acting and this struck me as odd.

Snowden always seemed to be suppressing a small, self-satisfied smile, as if trying to conceal his delight in being a gravitational figure that was setting a great narrative into motion, and I was astounded by how articulate he was, speaking in unbroken, virtually literary paragraphs when describing his intent and circumstances.

Isolated, without legal counsel and unsure of what was to happen to him and everybody he loved, he did not betray any anxiety, but seemed, calm, confident and even rehearsed in his manner.

Now when I see such a thing, I don’t suspect Snowden of fabricating the leaks, which essentially reveal to the public that the NSA is an omnipotent entity that has access to absolutely all our communications and actions, I suspect the NSA of fabricating Snowden. He was a CIA agent, after all, and what’s the use of a grand surveillance apparatus unless the people beneath it are conscious of it and feel its weight pressing down upon them daily?

I don’t have an opinion on the matter at this point, and there’s no way I can gather enough information to make a lucid and truly informed judgment, but my faith in our institutions is at such a low, that like a mad man in an alley, I find myself given to question everything that they prepare for my consumption, and you know, it doesn’t feel very good.

I recently won a kitten and have brought it into my household. It is my wish that it will bring hope into our lives. How should I treat it so that it does not run off to live with some of our other competitors in life?

With respect,

Sergei

Sergei:

It is good that you have written me with this question for my love of kittens is of global renown. My love for them is like a thunder that rolls across the steppes. My passion for kittens is the same as the passion a Cossack feels for battle! Truly, my ardor is without boundaries.

Personally, I have six surviving kittens and I am proud to say that they are all a part of the powerful Putin clan. My strongest connection is with Polkan. He is such a character! Sometimes he walks over my keyboard when I am busy writing a new law against the homosexuals! I tell you, if some bureaucrat were to do that, my response would be swift and without ambiguity, but I have no rage toward the cute, little face of my Polkan!

To make sure your kitten does not stray to a more appealing environment, you must pick it up, kiss it’s neck repeatedly then set it in your lap so it has a feeling of security, as you would a woman. You must be positive that it understands that you are not a predator! If the animal wishes to break free from you, you should let it, for you do not want it to feel trapped and fearful that it is to be executed for a crime! However, you must swiftly return to it, employing the same strategy (also, add treat) that you first initiated. You must repeat until your subject has been subdued.

Pet Corner:

I have been thinking about getting a Siberian Husky as I am looking for a loyal guard dog. Thoughts?

Gratefully,

Pavel

Pavel:

Ah, the Siberian Husky! It is as if their piercing eyes can penetrate deep into your soul and see your most secret desires and ambitions. I understand why you would feel such a burning attraction to them.

Evgeni had eyes like a Siberian Husky—as blue and vivid as lake Baikal. It was like he and I were carved from the same block of heterosexual man, and sometimes it was hard to know where where Evgeni ended and Vlad began. Our glorious days training together at secret KGB locations, were so curious and tense and beautiful, that sometimes we lost ourselves to our fitness regimes, and glistening with sweat, we would spar with one another– rough and tender– again and again, deep into the caressing night.

However, just like Evgeni, the Siberian Husky, is not a one-man dog. The breed is not fearful of strangers but will go to them, even seek them out in the dark corners of the city, and then one day you may happen upon your beautiful dog with another man, and you will feel nothing but rage, shame and horror, and then your KGB training will kick in and you will eliminate the problem before you. There will be more blood than you ever thought possible, but you will clean it up, and from that point forward you will bury deep, deep inside, all the hurt, pain and confusion, and you will become a new, different man, a man who hates even the disgusting thought of tenderly practicing martial arts with another man! And so I caution you, the Siberian Husky presents as many risks as it does rewards.

The central feature of this work is just how much smaller I made Putin’s left eye than his right. It’s all scrunched up and sleepy, like a little deformity. Personally, I think he’s got something twisted inside him, a torturing secret that keeps that one punky eye twitching and moving all the time. He just doesn’t feel safe, like he’s worried someone’s gonna’ catch him doing something.

I know I initially said that I saw into his soul the first time I met him and that he was trustworthy, but that was bullshit. Politics is 95% bullshit, which is why I was so dominant at it– the Bush family, we’re like the goddamn New York Yankees of politics, something I think you can see reflected in my self-portrait. I look confident, like a powerful eagle that can just swoop in and have whatever lady bird he wants. I’m not really convinced that Putin likes the lady birds.

Why? Well, he made a big deal about his dog being bigger than my dog, like he was actually talking about our dicks. I don’t know what they teach you at the KGB, but when I was a cheerleader at Yale we learned that your dick is very different than your dog, and the cheerleaders that were always talking about how big their dog was, well, they were almost sure to be queer.

One of the guys that was a cheerleader with me at Yale actually became a dental hygienist. Imagine that! Only male dental hygienist I ever heard about. Don’t know about you, but I wouldn’t want another dude cleaning my teeth. Anyway, this guy, Anderson, when he was a cheerleader he was always talking about how big his dog was, so it just goes to show you. Over-compensation, that’s what the shrinks call it.

Oh yeah, the painting! I also made Putin pout a bit in the painting, like a little crybaby, and I wanted his eyebrows to look like caterpillars because I really don’t like the guy. He’s got no sense of humour, and he’s always wanting to show off his karate moves and flip you. Very touchy-feely, but in an angry way, you know?

Just a douche.

He needs an infusion of Jesus Christ in his life.

Stat.

Me: Are you Nikita?

Woman: No, it’s just my job to hand out these notifications.

Me: Who is Nikita?

Woman: The role is played by Maggie Q.

Me: Maggie Q?

Woman: Yes, it’s her third season in the role. She leads a black ops organization in charge of hunting down rogue spies all over the world. Very thrilling and dramatic!

Me: That sounds like a job with a lot of responsibility. Am I suspected of being a rogue spy?

Woman: Well, I’m not sure, I’d have to ask Nikita.

Me: Could you do that, please. I’m going to have to juggle a few things around if I’m going to be hunted.

To my surprise the woman seemed amused and picked up her phone and called Maggie Q, the actress who plays Nikita.

Woman: Maggie, hi, it’s Janet. I’m just doing a flyer run on the street where we’re going to be shooting on Friday and a man here needs to know if you’re going to be hunting him down as a rogue spy. Yes, I think he must have a past.

Me: Let me speak to her.

Woman: Maggie, he has me hostage. He has spy skills. He’s demanding to speak to you.

The woman then handed me the phone.

Me: Maggie, what sort of assurances can you give me that I won’t be harmed during the shooting of this episode?

Maggie Q: You have full assurances.

Me: I need to know more about what’s going to be shot. I frequently take the dog for a walk and for a spy I’m surprisingly clumsy. Are you going to be kicking people or wielding a sword? I would consider those hazardous activities.

Maggie Q: Mostly, I’ll be looking sultry and intense. My hair will be messy but still sexy and I’ll be forced to point a gun at somebody. My look will suggest it hurts me more than it hurts them.

Me: (Covering the phone and speaking to the woman who was now scratching the ears of our dog, Heidi) She says she might have to kill somebody.

Woman: Well that’s unfortunate. Let me speak with her, maybe I can persuade her to change her mind. (The woman turned her back to me and there was muffled talking.)

Woman: Okay, here’s the deal, Maggie will pass on the killing if you agree to be an extra in a shot, we think an older-dad type walking his little dog down the street might be the perfect illustration of how Nikita keeps the innocent and helpless safe from the dangers of the world. What do you say?

Me: But I’m a rogue spy.

Woman: (Smiling) Oh, no, I’m sorry, but you’re so not.