It would not be a stretch to say that Sabir Khalilov was the sole architect of his own downfall. Known as much for his brazen antics as for his paintings, Khalilov had finally and spectacularly lost the plot.<\/p>\n
Just days before his tragic demise, in a now-notorious Instagram post, he lashed out at what he called the unjust and tiresome harassment by small-minded armchair critics and wrote the following:<\/p>\n
\u201cIn the end, flies swarming around a steaming pile of refuse are always right.\u201d<\/p>\n
What followed was a dry, but undeniably thorough, catalog of reactions to this daring proclamation:<\/p>\n
Khalilov\u2019s Instagram followers, outraged at being publicly outed as coprophages and likened to contemptible buzzing insects, issued a formal statement to the press, denouncing their once-beloved idol for hypocrisy and blatant disrespect toward his own fans.<\/p><\/blockquote>\n<\/li>\n
- \n
The Artists\u2019 Union and Ministry of Culture, ever vigilant, swiftly expelled Khalilov from their ranks, citing gross misconduct and a chronic lack of professionalism.<\/p><\/blockquote>\n<\/li>\n
- \n
Khalilov\u2019s wife joined the flood of grievances\u2014spilling forth like grain from a torn burlap sack\u2014berating her husband for half-assing his marital duties, for being insufferably stingy and small-minded, and for not having taken her out to dinner in what felt like centuries.<\/p><\/blockquote>\n<\/li>\n
- \n
Not to be left out, Khalilov\u2019s children went public, accusing their father of \u201cnot giving a single hoot\u201d about them of never showing the faintest interest in their lives, of playing no real role whatsoever, of being a spectacularly lousy dad who couldn\u2019t even remember their birthdays.<\/p><\/blockquote>\n<\/li>\n
- \n
One of Khalilov\u2019s mistresses called him a world-class cheapskate who almost never gave her anything fancy and said she was still waiting on the Dior handbag he\u2019d promised her forever ago.<\/p><\/blockquote>\n<\/li>\n
- \n
Mistress No. 2 accused Khalilov of barely spending time with her, of being a loudmouthed drunk, and of having breath that reeked like a backed-up sewer.<\/p><\/blockquote>\n<\/li>\n
- \n
The housekeeper complained that he was a walking disaster\u2014a hopeless slob and a scatterbrain who could wreck any space in under five minutes.<\/p><\/blockquote>\n<\/li>\n
- \n
His driver described him as an insufferable brute and foul-mouthed tyrant who screamed constantly but paid in peanuts \u201cwages too low for even the sorriest beggar to sniff at.\u201d<\/p><\/blockquote>\n<\/li>\n
- \n
Khalilov\u2019s personal manager, Elena, accused him of long-buried harassment claiming that, drunk and leering at some party ten years back, he grabbed her (plump, well-shaped) rear with what she described as unsettling enthusiasm.<\/p><\/blockquote>\n<\/li>\n
- \n
Finally, Khalilov\u2019s five-year-old grandson Akif\u2014a wide-eyed, chubby little menace\u2014complained that Grandpa hardly ever bought him toys and had once refused to get him a Kinder Surprise, claiming chocolate was bad for his teeth.<\/p><\/blockquote>\n<\/li>\n<\/ol>\n
<\/p>\n
Khalilov, through increasingly Herculean effort, managed to endure the swelling tide of public scorn until, finally, he gave in.<\/p>\n
He booked a luxury suite at the Four Seasons, filled the tub to the brim, climbed in, slit his wrists and finally had his fill of this wretched little world and slipped away into Nirvana for an eternal walk.<\/p>\n
<\/p>\n
II.<\/h5>\n
A lean spruce man in his early forties stepped out of the office, whistling casually and carrying a black calfskin briefcase with silver clasps in his left hand.<\/p>\n
Right behind him came a venerable philologist of advanced age, clad in a shapeless, outdated suit and clearly on his way out for a smoke. Spotting his assistant in the hallway, he said:<\/p>\n
\u201cFrankly, X is a complete hack. A hopeless, talentless fraud. He\u2019ll never write anything worth a damn.\u201d<\/p>\n
Later that day, the assistant bumped into a friend and said:<\/p>\n
\u201cMy boss Ismailov says X is just\u00a0a mediocrity unlikely to ever produce anything of substance.\u201d<\/p>\n
The assistant\u2019s friend met up with a literary critic named Renat and shared:<\/p>\n
\u201cSo, rumor has it, Ismailov called X a competent but ultimately unremarkable writer, still a long way from brilliance.\u201d<\/p>\n
Renat, the critic, ran into a friend, the head of a publishing house and told him:<\/p>\n
\u201cIsmailov thinks X is a quite gifted, though still unpolished writer and that time will tell what he\u2019s truly made of.\u201d<\/p>\n
The publisher later spoke with the Deputy Minister of Culture and reported:<\/p>\n
\u201cAccording to Ismailov, X is both talented and full of promise, someone who\u2019s clearly capable of producing a truly brilliant work.\u201d<\/p>\n
Later, the Deputy Minister, chatting with his friend, renowned woman poet (who happened to know both X and Ismailov rather well) proclaimed:<\/p>\n
\u201cIsmailov says X is one of the greatest literary minds of our time\u2014a writer long overdue for the Nobel Prize!\u201d<\/p>\n
Upon hearing this, the poetess managed only a stunned, \u201cThe hell?!\u201d after which her eyes shot up to her forehead, either from outrage or disbelief, and stayed there permanently.<\/p>\n
<\/p>\n","protected":false},"excerpt":{"rendered":"
It would not be a stretch to say that Sabir Khalilov was the sole architect of his own downfall. Known as much for his brazen antics as for his paintings, Khalilov had finally and spectacularly lost the plot.<\/p>\n","protected":false},"author":182,"featured_media":23750,"comment_status":"open","ping_status":"open","sticky":false,"template":"","format":"standard","meta":{"footnotes":""},"categories":[3530],"tags":[4383,222,1280,342],"class_list":["post-22800","post","type-post","status-publish","format-standard","has-post-thumbnail","hentry","category-flash-fiction","tag-nooneissafe-ramizgaralov-metamodernmindmenace","tag-art","tag-painting","tag-writing","writer-ramiz-garalov"],"_links":{"self":[{"href":"https:\/\/mrbullbull.com\/newbull\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/posts\/22800","targetHints":{"allow":["GET"]}}],"collection":[{"href":"https:\/\/mrbullbull.com\/newbull\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/posts"}],"about":[{"href":"https:\/\/mrbullbull.com\/newbull\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/types\/post"}],"author":[{"embeddable":true,"href":"https:\/\/mrbullbull.com\/newbull\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/users\/182"}],"replies":[{"embeddable":true,"href":"https:\/\/mrbullbull.com\/newbull\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/comments?post=22800"}],"version-history":[{"count":4,"href":"https:\/\/mrbullbull.com\/newbull\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/posts\/22800\/revisions"}],"predecessor-version":[{"id":23751,"href":"https:\/\/mrbullbull.com\/newbull\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/posts\/22800\/revisions\/23751"}],"wp:featuredmedia":[{"embeddable":true,"href":"https:\/\/mrbullbull.com\/newbull\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/media\/23750"}],"wp:attachment":[{"href":"https:\/\/mrbullbull.com\/newbull\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/media?parent=22800"}],"wp:term":[{"taxonomy":"category","embeddable":true,"href":"https:\/\/mrbullbull.com\/newbull\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/categories?post=22800"},{"taxonomy":"post_tag","embeddable":true,"href":"https:\/\/mrbullbull.com\/newbull\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/tags?post=22800"}],"curies":[{"name":"wp","href":"https:\/\/api.w.org\/{rel}","templated":true}]}}