Planet of the Yids
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Papa and I are walking down the wide, frozen Leninskiy Prospekt. It's my favourite part of Leningrad. I'm ten years old and I've seen the English Golden Peacock clock at the Hermitage a hundred times, thrilled to those mechanized peacock wings and dancing twenty-carat mushrooms that every fourth-grader loves so much. (With shit like this, who needs acid?) But that old-town Petersburg is not for me. I'm a citizen of the future.
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