Had a psychedelic dream of flashbacks to when I was in Cuba, and I saw an old Soviet cement mixer still in operation, slowly chugging its way up a steep incline, pollutant spewing through its exhaust pipe as its socialist messages inscribed on the mixer spun. The mixer must've been 50 years old, and the 25-year-old Russian Ladas, their steering wheels now reduced to the bars underneath, sped past it angrily.
Socialist realist art, I have to say, is awesome stuff; I'd like to see its productio n well past the death of the ideology. The stark, 2D characters, their red fists impossibly holding children as their smiley, cold faces beneath the sun turn proudly towards sleek tanks somehow tiptoeing through fields blooming with flowers
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