Earlier this week, Kiev, Ukraine fell to the flames--abreast some 25 lives caught up in the conflagration--as authorities tried to, unsuccessfully, regain control of the city's main square. There amid the deteriorating landscape of social unrest, violence hath become protocol.
Obama's officials and European Union reps claim that they may place sanctions on the Ukrainian government to impose more peaceful deliberations.
However you want to look at it, it all seems pretty damn bleak.
As part of their demonstrations, avengers against the Russians took to City Hall, installing a piano. Those who played it wore not tuxedo tails but paramilitary gear.
"They call us extremists and criminals, but this is not the case. People are here for patriotism, not for money or violence," said one masked pianist.
His luminosity of cause gone unheeded, the bloodshed became more tangible--palpable, even, after that specific interview.
Historically, the saga of Russo-Ukrainian tensions, yes, was as thick then as it is today. But given the newest measuring of manhood for Vladimir Putin, especially as the Sochi games come to a close, one can only guess how bad those tensions are still to get.
Mykola Vitaliyovych Lysenko, the late Ukrainian composer, pianist and scholar, was lauded for his nationalism. He refused to write his operas in Russian, which were eventually banned by the czars in 1876.
Not too surprisingly, modern day Russia seems vaguely similar to imperial Russia, what with both admins trying to buttress the motherland like a rabid dog cornering a small child (who speaks half-Russian, half-Ukrainian, I might add).
Alas, recordings of Lysenko's compositions--like the identity of that masked pianist--are criminally difficult to procure. And as the flames of revolution further engulf a war-torn nation, his work will likely become more difficult to find.
Regardless, he died a hero to Ukrainians everywhere, cherished by his sympathetic contemporary Pyotr Ilyich Tchaikovsky. And as Lysenko's land turns to charred rubble today, I know that he would still be a vocal proponent of Ukrainian independence.
Consider this, then, his middle finger to ol' Vlad Putin.
