Khrushchev was notorious for advocating harebrained schemes and
chasing impractical ideas, such as his insistence on massive
expansion of the sown areas of maize, including territories
beyond the Arctic Circle.
A popular joke commented on this obsession of his thus: “We
shouldn’t let Khrushchev go to the moon — he would plant maize
To test the nutritional value
of corn Krushchev summoned a Russian, a Ukrainian and a Jew and
ordered them to eat nothing but corn for three months.
At the end of this period they were brought to Krushchev
again to be weighed. The Russian had lost twenty kilograms, the
Ukrainian ten, whereas the Jew had gained five.
Krushchev was overjoyed: "Well,
Comrade Rabinovich, tell us how you did it!"
simple, Comrade Krushchev. I filtered the corn through chickens."
Conversation in a prison cell:
What are you in for? — one prisoner
asks the other.
nothing. This is the third time I've landed in a bit of
trouble. The first time they put me in
was in 1924 just after Lenin died. I was working in a factory
then. Some commissar came to read us a lecture. "The death of
Comrade Lenin," he said, "it's a national grief.
All the factories have closed and
there are a hundred thousand wreaths ..." And I said to him:
"Comrade Commissar, for that money, never mind Lenin, you could
bury the whole party ..." They gave me ten years!
Well I served my ten years, came out and got another job
in a factory. Then Stalin died, there was a change of government
and Beria was shot. And as soon as this was reported in the
newspapers the party organizer said to me: "Ivanov, go and take
down that bandit's portrait." But we had an awful lot of
portraits hanging up in the factory. And I asked, "Which one?"
That put me in the second time.
For a second time I came out
and thought to myself, "This time I won't be caught saying a
word ... I won't get involved in politics again." And there I
was on the First of May marching with the other workers from our
factory. They shoved a pole with Krushchev's
portrait into my hand and said to carry it. Well, they told me
to carry it, so I carried it. But behind me there was this drunk
who kept treading on my heels. I said to him once, "Stop
treading on my feet." I told him a second time, then when he
kept on I turned around and said, "If you tread on my feet once
more you bastard I'll beat skit out of you with the clown on
this stick ..." I got three years...
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