“Well, the fucking doors won’t close. Well, why not just toss a grenade at them. What are you staring at, sweetie? You scared? Don’t worry. We’re all real men here. We will shield you from the blast if need be.”
Keep calm. Carry on.
The sky is high. The Czar is far.
“Well, the fucking doors won’t close. Well, why not just toss a grenade at them. What are you staring at, sweetie? You scared? Don’t worry. We’re all real men here. We will shield you from the blast if need be.”
Keep calm. Carry on.
There’s a German word for that: “Galgenhumor” (= scaffold humor). I guess it’s as good as any other method of survival, possibly better…
I just keep rereading this and laughing. It’s so marvelously Russian. Dark humor, chivalric bravado, and a undercurrent of “nu, chto delat?” to it all. Thanks.
It was a moment, to be sure. 🙂
…I think the intent of “scaffold” or gallows humour goes the other way — about being a potential victim of the grenade, not the person throwing it. Like, after the doors close, saying something like “ach, we’re all going to die and I left my apartment lights on”, only better and funnier. The idea is to let everyone know you share their anxiety, but you’re continuing with your life in the face of it. Joking about throwing grenades, or being the one to cause the destruction, or pointing out someone else’s fear, only enhances the anxiety.