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The Editor-in-Chief of GQ‘s Russian arm has written a piece for the Guardian, and had some choice words for western ‘activists’:

Clueless western supporters have glommed on to the story at its most black and white, imposing easy narratives on it and making a balaclava look as cute as a hemp tote. (Melena Ryzik’s piece in the New York Times on Friday marks the beginning of a subtle backlash: in her dry description of a Pussy Riot benefit at New York’s hip Ace Hotel, the case is seen as a magnet for vapid celebs and people who unironically use the word “shero”).

And addresses the professionalism of Pussy Riot, alone in a sea of knobs:

The only professionals anywhere in sight are Pussy Riot themselves. From their name, perfectly pitched to both shock and attract the western media, to their instantly recognisable look; from their message (concise bursts of feminist agitprop with just enough of a tune to pass as a song), to their method of distributing this message via social networks; from their initial punk posturing in interviews, to their pointedly academic statements to the court, which no less than David Remnick called “a kind of instant classic in the anthology of dissidence”; these women, and they alone in this mess, know exactly what they are doing.




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