This year marks a third of a century since the collapse of the second Yugoslavia. The Tito one that became pregnant after the insemination by the vampiric nationalism of the mid-seventies and after the death of the locksmith and the last stand attempt of a certain Marković A. to prevent the birth - the inevitable happened, i.e. new state entities began to be born. Great hopes were placed on those entities, that they would grow up, finish school, join the army, get married... if only they would give birth to new entities, no, not at all. If possible, they would grab something from their neighbors, nothing more.
Without delving into the internal contradictions and reasons for the collapse, it would be interesting to look at the seven dwarves who survived from the initial twelve, whose inglorious existence soon began to stink incomparably more than the late SFRY in its most stinking times.
The first was a creation called Slovenia. A meaningless, mountainous country with a scorched seabed and not particularly bad neighbors, this country, which speaks a language that makes the eardrum suffer, went through a short but televisedly heavily exploited war with no more than 300 dead and 2,000 wounded on the way to insignificance. Retaining moments from the previous system with a somewhat less raw transition compared to the others, Slovenia, despite the mega-scandals with the corruption of the most vocal patriots of 1991 (Janez Janša, prime minister whose patriotism cost him at least 20 million euros of public money in his own pocket) in record time found Brussels as a replacement for Belgrade and remained number one in the gallery of freaks.
Birth rate terrible, mortality stable, emigration not particularly pronounced, future - monotonous.
Collective identity: Umazani Janezi.
Genocidal potential: Almost non-existent
The second was the bizarre phenomenon called Croatia. It is said that this country was unusually beautiful. If an analogy can be used, then one could imagine a long-legged blonde with serious sociopathic tendencies and dreams of her grandmother-serial killer who is sexually active only with people with whom she cannot understand. Four years later than that fateful 1991, 26,000 dead. 44,000 wounded was the balance of the creation that would become known under the popular name Prčija in the ownership of 200 families, gathered around the pseudo-dictator Franjo Tuđman (aka Krivousti) and the leaders of the Conversion. The citizens of this country saw salvation from themselves in the endless streams of credits and Brussels where, with a decade-long delay compared to their northern neighbors - they enrolled in the club 28.
Birth rate terrible, mortality stable, emigration in worrying growth, future, slightly suspicious.
Collective identity: Usrane Ustaše.
Genocidal potential: High. Turned into reality 1941-45 and partially 1991-95.
The third is already a kind of pearl. The state entity called the Republic of Serbian Krajina, founded in the days of Evil with the onset of the summer heat in the ubiquitous 1991. This maniacal state once stretched over a third of the area of Croatia and was the cornerstone in the expected imminent unification of all countries where Serbs lived.
Financed through the plunder of the property of exiled people, smuggling of everything that can and cannot be smuggled, remittances from the budget of the patron state that will be discussed later, and general madness - the future certainly looked bright! A relative of the coockoo eggs that they sow to cause later shit (Donbas, Crimea, Transnistria, Abkhazia, Ossetia, Nakhichevan, etc.) - the Chetnik pride did not manage to celebrate its fifth birthday, but disappeared in the autumn and winter of late 1995 when the operations of the Ustasa army, Oluja and Blijesak, wiped it off the map in less than two weeks. 4,000 dead and 15,000 wounded were probably an appropriate price for several years of joy for the population wearing shaykacha hats and opanak footware.
Collective identity - Stupid Chetniks.
Genocidal potential: High. Partially manifested 1991-95.
The fourth in this parade of monstrosity is Macedonia. But more on that in the next installment.
Unfortunately, it will take at least four parts to cover the moment of birth of 12 Rosemary babies from just one womb...Fuck them all, motherfuckers.
(Roger Mortis, 151)
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