I never cease to be amazed at the insanity of power. Here's what not to do, just to do nothing!!! Any bad idea that has nothing to do with the solution of pressing problems is hastily searched for and exalted to the skies.

Well, it is necessary to reach such insanity as to establish the "title of the hero of the capitalist labor of the Russian Federation" There are no words. And after all, they found strikebreakers from among the workers, and forced them to voice this idea. I wonder if they even realized when they voiced how idiotic they looked at that moment? Or is that all, the soul has atrophied, and you can carry any nonsense?

For the first time - in August last year - the idea to return the title of Hero of Labor was voiced by Igor Kholmanskikh. Like, it's time to pay attention to the working man! In December, Vladimir Putin met with his confidants, and the topic surfaced again. Then Putin made it clear that he was not against the establishment of the award. “In general, I think it would be nice to revive the title of Hero of Labor, but you can’t make a complete copy of the Soviet era,” he said. “We all need to think together and consult with society, with public organizations, there should be clear and understandable criteria - not just for the number of years worked, but for the result, for the contribution to the development of the country.”

And so, at a recent conference of the "All-Russian People's Front" in Rostov-on-Don, the worker-deputy Trapeznikov again spoke about the need to establish a title. And Putin gave up. “We had the title of Hero of Socialist Labor in the Soviet Union, and in general, in my opinion, this justified itself. I know that this is not only the position of representatives of those who work at the machine and in general simply do something with their own hands and their heads ... I agree with you, and not only agree, but I think that your proposals will be implemented today before the end of the day,” the president promised during his speech to ONF activists. And on the same day he signed the corresponding decree.

But only here it was not possible for the officials to adequately "comb" this idiocy. They offered the type of hard worker that they would be rewarded for shock work for the benefit of the capitalists' profits, but everything turned out completely wrong, and now the initiators of this high-profile initiative can wipe themselves out, they will never receive this tsatsk.

Many wondered what the new award would look like. The reality has surpassed the wildest forecasts. The Gold Medal of the Hero of Labor of the Russian Federation combined the seemingly incompatible: in the center of the five-pointed star (an exact copy of the Soviet star of the Hero of Socialist Labor) was "a relief image of the State Emblem of the Russian Federation." In other words, the double-headed Russian eagle. As a result, the main symbol of the Soviet Union met with the main symbol of tsarist and new Russia. However, the confusion of symbols is not so bad.

The bad thing is that the "criteria are clear and understandable", as the president wanted, they did not develop - either in a hurry, or deliberately. The only specific parameter spelled out in the presidential decree is as follows: the title of Hero of Labor of the Russian Federation will be awarded to citizens "whose labor distinctions, as a rule, were previously awarded the Order of Merit for the Fatherland." However, it is precisely this "clear and understandable criterion" that makes the chances of representatives of the working class and the working peasantry to receive a high reward minimal.

Profile carefully studied the twenty-year history of awarding the Order For Services to the Fatherland and came to a disappointing conclusion: the workers and peasants had hardly received it all these years. The highest degrees of the order - I, II and III - were not assigned to these citizens at all. Representatives of working professions were awarded only the Order of the IV degree, and even then it was extremely rare.

http://www.profile.ru/article/geroicheskaya-poema-75452

No more laughing, no more crying!

It was not possible to find a real image of the new order of Sutuly on the net, I think that this is a sketch that is not far from reality.

Now we have little contact with employees of "working specialties". For the most part we are office samurai, office jarls. Did the job - sleep well. If you didn’t, you stay until midnight at the “combat post”. Flurry with the ninth shaft - you go out on the weekend. Everything is simple and clear. But this is "ours". And there, among the "workers" is a completely different matter. Sometimes you face this world with surprise and shock.
More often you hear how office samurai are perplexed when they learn from a loader or repairman that he cannot fulfill the order of his superiors, because he does not intend to “fawn” or “grovel” and, moreover, “humiliate himself” by following orders.
I was lucky to face another facet of this world.

The last classes of the school fell on 93-95. It was not only the heyday of the "gangster nineties", but among young people and a romantic perception of the new world and business opportunities. Everything seemed simple and rosy - you just need to work, gush with ideas and good decisions, and you will instantly get rich. Again, honor and conscience are things that not only do not contradict the new world, but ennoble it. Business seemed like a way to make the world a better place.
Including in the summer there is nothing to sit idle, you have to earn extra money! The boys then took buckets of rags and went to gas stations to wash windows for tips. And I asked for it as a handyman. Father warned, realizing that there was no place for idealistic ideas. But I couldn’t cope - I insisted, he arranged it.
A construction handyman at a large construction complex is all sorts of things, but not in the “bring it” style, but in the form of tasks for the brigade. A lot of different things. To drag sand with a stretcher, to pull out pallets from under bricks from a finished house, etc.
The first and most memorable task was stacking bricks on pallets. At the factory, the bricks are stacked in small piles on wooden pallets. It is convenient to load them and during construction to lift them with a crane directly to the floor to the masons. But unloading from dump trucks is troublesome, so for speed at large construction sites they are simply thrown to the ground, and the bricks fall down, mixed with pallets. It beats and cracks a lot, but just as little attention is paid to it - halves of bricks will also come in handy, and what does the foreman care about the “battle”. It is easier to send a team of handymen who will dismantle the fallen bricks and lay them on pallets. In general, this was my first task - laying row after row, and changing worn out mittens (and up to three pairs could be worn out in a day). Business something. When I asked the master how much to add, he was very surprised - the normalization goes on in time. But, remembering that I'm small, I work part-time, I appointed - you will collect five pallets and that's it. Deciding that I could manage and go home, I set to work with ardor. Is it a great thing to collect your five and go for a walk? Everything is according to the new rules of life - you work quickly and well - you are nice and have a rest with money. By lunchtime, the norm was ready for completion, there were one or two pallets left. I didn’t even have lunch, I continued to work.
However, this did not go unnoticed; an educational conversation was held with me. One of the workers, not the oldest (now I understand that he was under thirty), but the most authoritative and arrogant, sat down next to me and directly asked:
- What do you want, the Order of Sutulov most of all?
I didn't even understand what he meant. Clarified what was the matter.
- Why are you climbing across the father? Well, it is clear that your father is your boss. And what are you running out of? Do you really think we're shit?
It was completely incomprehensible to me why he said all this at all. It was clear, only - what I thought was right, now suddenly turned out to be completely wrong, and I suddenly became from an excellent student of military and political training - the most miserable loser and foul traitor to the motherland. Bad boy. Sneak and nit.
The main thing was not clear - how is it, what is wrong? Is it bad to do business and relax with pleasure? Is it bad to do more and get more?
I don’t remember what the name of that sage handyman was, but I remember what inner resentment and misunderstanding this annoying question caused:
- What do you want to receive the Order of Sutulov before everyone else?
He did not directly threaten dark or other reprisals. It was enough to behave and the fact that the rest of the guys and even the grown men in the brigade listened to him.
Moreover, somewhere inside I understood this truth of his - now some fellow has asked for a norm, will make it for half a day, and tomorrow the norm will be raised and everyone will be assigned. Much later, I heard a legend that Ford was asked - they say, what is it like for you - that in Soviet factories they fulfill the norm three, or even five times? To which he replied - I would have fired those raters. The handyman was not particularly rewarded and had no incentives for development. If you do it sooner, you get more work. Yes, and you’ll set everyone up - instead of calmly doing business, with laziness, smoke breaks or lunch, the whole brigade will plow without straightening their backs - earning the Order of Sutulov.
Then a few more times I intersected with the detachment of laborers from the final result - my colleagues had fun and courage to walk around the finished house and break bricks in the already finished masonry - great! Or laying bricks on pallets with voids - less work, and the same number of pallets. But most of all I remember this first conversation.
You live within your ideals. You think that the whole world shares the same ideas about honor and dignity. About what is bad to do badly.
And then suddenly they explained to me very authoritatively and clearly that, on the contrary, what I considered good either does not exist, or is not worthy and good. But the low and bad is the very thing that is in demand in the world.
And most importantly, you can’t do anything about it, it’s a system. It was I who could work off the summer and return to my life, and then get into the environment of office samurai, or even cooler - office jarls, from whom I did business - got booty - spend and rejoice! And they stayed in this system. We were forced to accept this truth. And the thing is not only in physical pressure, but it is inevitable, but in the general social rejection of your "honesty and cleanliness." And as a result, the most modest and underestimated norms are fulfilled in our country, as well as, as a result, employers are not satisfied with the cost of workers, workers are dissatisfied with the return for their work, and macroeconomists argue that labor costs are too expensive in Russia. Remembering the little that I found, I don’t understand very well how we manage to build and do something at all. And most importantly, the poison of this approach, the philosophy of working without working, does not disappear when faced with the lively truth of workers of the new time, who are ready to work overtime and gnaw out bonus or just weekends from fate, but, on the contrary, often infects them. And the most lively "managers" often give up when they are faced with the inability to stop the endless series of smoke breaks, lunches and "can't I go to the toilet?"
Then it was the first serious clash of ideals and the "truth of life." Listening to the arrogant and confident speeches of the “senior comrade,” I even relaxed. Swallowed his nose, smeared a tear. It was very insulting for everything, for life, for ideals. And it was especially offensive that it suddenly became clear that you can’t just be honest. This opportunity must be constantly pursued and protected. To be beaten, to be an outcast, and more importantly, you will be honest, you will simply interfere with those people who live and work next to you. Not only that - in general, they deserve the right to their lives. And you spoil all the raspberries for them here.

"How difficult and inconvenient,
after hard work
From the mighty wet back
take off your shirt sometimes…”

Who else in the North Yenisei taiga has not heard of Sutulov Mitriy Kuzmich?! - The old prospector Mitrich asked his young comrades, and continued slyly, - Only the one who has never been in the search for gold! Who did not listen, with aspiration, to the stories of old people - elderly grandfathers, forty-year-olds ... Yawning sweetly and crossing his golden, illegally made mouth, the experienced taiga resident choked, and, for the hundred and first time, probably, slowly began the ancient, like his difficult, diligent life, story. It was not for nothing that the goldsmith baptized his mouth: maybe, of course, from a drowsy yawn, but most likely from his upcoming intrigue, since he considered himself the illegitimate son of an epic hero, because children are a dark, nocturnal matter. Or maybe he had a dream, what a dashing hangover he saw ... Who knows him, the old fart?

Before the Finnish, understand, he swallowed in the taiga ending of the word, this was the case. Accurately in 1938, his mother, our nasty father. To heavy work, away from sin - they will not be sent further than Siberia! - in that difficult time, a lot of people gave in. Who is for long money - what is called a golden boom, who is slippery for luck, and some from the prosecutor's cleaver ... A caravan of barges came to Bryanka, it barely made its way along the Pit to the gold mines, the richest, closer. Without iron and bread, you can’t get gold, you can’t shoot game, you can’t build a hut. Bread, iron and gold always walk nearby. On the barge of three hundred tons of profit and "miners" civilians, recruited, yellow-mouthed - to try their luck, fate. While they were going to the North, the peasants became close friends on the road, as it always happens on the road. Go often - you will catch up with happiness, sit quietly - you will catch up famously! And there was a huge man among that gop-company: he looked like a tyuha-matyuha, a Tula black-footed man. The old man thought...
At the fire, he was surrounded by very young guys who arrived from the mainland in the Yenisei taiga to work. Not like in battles - none of them had ever been in the taiga and had never gone more than a hundred kilometers from their mother's tit. And here, among the experienced, “a hundred rubles is not money!”; The mouths opened their mouths and listened attentively to the narrator. The situation was very conducive to this: they burned a fire for their first overnight stay in the taiga, by the fire; around the people huddled together, in the reflections of a calm flame on the pines, it was already - even if it was an eye; sipped scalding strong tea with sugar, thought, each about his own ...
Grandfather slowly continued his uncomplicated story, lulled: - From the pier, the whole gang, on carts and gibberish, was hastily delivered to the head of the Ognevsky Prisk, whose plans for gold mining this season burned with a clear, blue fire. The prospects of non-fulfillment of the state plan worried the colonel. The newly arrived labor force instilled in the recruiter hopes for settled life and peace in the taiga. He knew the dog! - Norilsk was built further north. The miner spat, crossed himself three times and cursed. Thank God, he did not have a chance to visit Umorilsk himself, but experienced convicts told all sorts of things about this perilous land.
The boss, with a face the color of a hornet's nest, personally issued the entire brigade, wrote her a direction and order for work, as well as for a warehouse and a hostel - a "bicharnya", a settlement. The arrived lads went for uniforms and entrenching tools, making plans for life and earnings: In the office they had already found out from the locals that even those who still did not even have northern allowances were getting good at earthworks. All the new arrivals were like that. The locals, in turn, “copied” the newcomers, offered to buy from them extra salary supplements for three bubbles ... Having shown their documents to the suckers of the mainland, who carefully rewrote their documents, the urkagans went home - they were the only ones they saw, and the “fat-free” simpletons to everyone they moved in a herd to the warehouses, already considering in their minds all the benefits of the deal they had made, or stupidity, whichever suits them best. Sutulov, on the other hand, kept to himself and did not participate in the super-benefits of the team ...
The head of the mine was already in full swing by phone from the region. July was already on the nose, and the horse was not lying on the training grounds! His excuses that the caravan had just arrived were not taken into account by the general ...

Take a shovel, you scoundrel, and dig yourself, you bastard, since you are not able to organize the work. The whole season about ... slept! - the general finished his deep thought, whose direct Moscow telephone was also already torn on the table ... The NKVD in the gold mining of the region understood no more than the laundry and the Ministry of Culture.

The Colonel, bulging his eyes, looked at the front door of the office. If the convoy had been standing there, he would have been surprised, probably incomparably less ... In the entire gap of a considerable doorway stood monumental, like a monument to Comrade Stalin, seasoned Mitriy Kuzmich.

Boss!!! - He rumbled, - The whole team is already bullying me! All small fry, rascal ... I'm not a midget, whatever ... What are you? Are you laughing?!

The petty colonel, who had not yet fully recovered from the general’s dressing down, sincerely perplexed, accepted Sutulov’s crowbar and shovel shovel with both hands, which he gave him with two fingers. For a while they silently stared at each other: the boss was completely confused, and the digger with a mute production question in his blue aspen eyes. Failing to catch the honest gaze of the huge junior hard worker, the senior officer sat down, on, in his chair, not letting go of the brand new, toy for Sutulov, "instrument".

It's a baby owl, some! What is he to me? By God! - continued to roar, the thug, like a bear, - Go-met! “Normal“ tool ”give me a cop! and knock out one and a half rates, I want to work normally! And to receive... I'm a Stakhanovite! Heard? Did you read it?? echoed throughout the office.

Clerks, intrigued by the unprecedented noise, began to look out into the corridor: The accountant pulled off his black, satin oversleeves and put down the abacus, although it was still far from evening. The guard of the gold box office looked in the door and recoiled in horror, seeing the size of the speaker, as if at a meeting, a truth-seeker, who cares for the common cause.
The senior mine somehow at once haggard and drooped - two shocks in less than a quarter of an hour, this is a bit too much even for seasoned MGB fighters.
Taking advantage of the pause, Sutulov, with the look of a winner, put the leader in his left hand, in his right hand he held a brand new scoop with a crowbar, a sketch drawn by him by hand. When he did, and where he got a pencil and paper, and also studied drawing and oratory, this story is silent ...
The sketch depicted the "tool" of the striker of the first five-year plans: A shovel - three times the size of the standard one; Scrap-pike, forged, as thick as a hand and with a heel for beating with a sledgehammer; Mentioned above, a pood sledgehammer-nurse. Kylo for Gulliver! And finally… CAR!!! A masterpiece of engineering Mantulin thought! The volume of kilograms per three hundred discarded rock! Not less!!! On a forged, huge wheel, with spikes ...
Strictly punishing the engineer of the human souls of the mine of Fire not to delay the fulfillment of the order, the innovator received from him an advance payment for forced absenteeism in the amount of two hundred rubles - the boss simply could not find a larger amount in the safe. In those distant, epic times, a thousand rubles was considered a very good monthly income, even for Stakhanovites. Giving the freeman an advance, the boss was already ready to pray to God for him, if only he would work for three, for one and a half inserts. Even to the order at the end of the season, of course, when the mine was fulfilling the state plan, he promised, at parting, to present ... Sutulov shed a lot of tears, took out a brand new jersey, a not quite fresh handkerchief, and dabbed his blue, honest, childish eyes. Having received the money in advance, Mitriy Kuzmich, as the colonel had already increased him, they departed for dinner ...
Three days later, with an opportunity from Severo-Yeniseisk, an urgent mining order arrived, which caused considerable surprise and commotion in the workshop of the Sovetskaya mine. But the order, there is an order, and the mine issued the “tool” on time, and with excellent quality. Products of non-standard sizes were piled in the corner of the office of the head of the mine around the exorbitant Mantulin wheelbarrow.
Three days later, on a very urgent matter, the chief of Ogni was impatient to go to Velmo ... Having ordered his deputy to find, even from under the ground, Sutulov, give him a "tool" and send a powerful digger to a breakthrough, to the most golden area, the colonel departed for a business trip for a hundred kilometers ... His road lay through supervised mines, so he arrived at the Velma office only late in the evening. In the office of the major of the NKVD - the head of the mine under construction, as usual, the light did not go out at night: you never know who decides to call?! There were no civilians in the office anymore. Going to the end of the corridor, he vigorously, with both hands, flung open the double doors to the office ... and was dumbfounded! In the far corner of the office, under a thousand-candle lamp - Ilyich, proudly, like a dreadnought in the roadstead, a twin wheelbarrow was piled up! All her retinue stood at attention around Her Majesty: a crowbar, a shovel, a pick, a sledgehammer ... The mine has mastered the production of new products!

Sutulov was? asked the Colonel, sullenly tired from the road. - How much did you advance?

Three hundred rubles ... - the major, who still does not understand anything, answered.

I, thank God, two hundred ... - the senior in rank breathed out with relief.

Mitrich, with the look of the winner of the competition of masters of the artistic word, glanced around at the young, completely stunned overnight stays. He chatted his listeners and almost finished them off at the end ... Triumphantly, he finished:
- They were looking for Sutulov all over the Yenisei Ridge in order to present him with a well-deserved order ... With a twist on his back! Not found. Taiga is big. Maybe he went to Norilsk, went to the mines, picks, which special ones to order, or jackhammers - who knows him, cunning Mitriy? Or maybe the cops, or firefighters ... Anyway, I think he did not work! And why else are brains given to a person? - Thoughtfully concluded the “son” of seven bats, estimating for tomorrow what high labor tasks to pile up before the youth ...
They swept, carefully, burned from the coals, put up a tattered, faded tarpaulin, a tent. They crammed into it tightly and settled down. Learn student! Who does not work, he eats! All sleep!!! Tomorrow to work!
Norilsk. January 30, 2016. 04 hours,
- 25 degrees, Quiet. Quietly. Everyone is asleep.

Many of us have heard such an expression: “the order of the Stooped”. However, not everyone knows the history of its origin. But we often use this phrase in everyday speech. But how can you say a word, but not fully understand its meaning?! This is at least strange.

Let's try to deal with this issue.

Where did this expression come from?

Historians of the language are still arguing where this expression came from. However, most of them agree that this phrase appeared recently - about 50-60 years ago. It belongs to the non-literary varieties of the Russian language, is included in the so-called group of slang expressions.

Moreover, the phrase "Order of Stooped" can be attributed both to professional words and to youth slang.

It will be united with professional jargon by the fact that this expression denotes an award that is received for length of service in the military, navy, and even at a factory. This expression has in common with youth slang that it has an ironic connotation.

Well, how can you be proud of the fact that you were awarded the Order of Stooping with a twist on your back?

Why is there a twist on the back of the order?

The answer to this simple question is not so easy. Well, firstly, the twist on the back indicates precisely the stoop of a person. He served faithfully for so many years, so he became stooped, decrepit.

Secondly, this expression means that there is nothing good in this order. It is somehow embarrassing to even twist it on the chest, so they hang it on the back. As they say, out of sight.

Perhaps this expression is also connected with the personality of the famous General Secretary L.I. Brezhnev. As famous, he had so many awards that they simply did not fit on his chest. The wits from the dissidents suggested making twists on the back of the leader, because there was simply nowhere to hang orders and medals. And it looks like you can...

Therefore, this stroke testifies, rather, to the low significance of this so-called award.

Would you like to receive the Order of Stooped?

If you ask passers-by on the street such a question, you will most likely get a negative answer. Indeed, the prospect of receiving such an “award” does not please anyone. Therefore, an ironic attitude towards this order has developed among the people. Dali seems to be, but this thing does not please the heart.

Thus, we briefly considered the question of what the Order of the Stooped is and what such an award is given for. As we can see, a rather mocking attitude towards this thing is due to the fact that this award as a whole does not mean anything and rather brings negative emotions to those who are awarded it.