"It's the Disruption, Philip Philipovich." "No," Philip Philipovich contradicted him with the utmost certainty. "You should be the first, dear Ivan Arnoldovich, to refrain from using that particular word. It is a mirage, smoke, fiction." Philip Philipovich spread wide his short fingers so that two shadows resembling tortoises began to wriggle across the table- cloth. "What is this Disruption of yours? An old woman with a staff? A witch who goes round knocking out the window-panes and putting out the lamps? Why, she doesn't exist at all. What do you mean by the word?" demanded Philip Philipovich furiously of the unfortunate cardboard duck suspended legs uppermost by the side- board, and answered for it himself. "I'll tell you what it means. If I stop doing operations every evening and initiate choir practice in my flat instead, I'll get Disruption. If, when I go to the lavatory, I, if you'll forgive the expression, begin to piss and miss the bowl, and Zina and Darya Petrovna do the same, then we get Disruption in the lavatory. So it follows that Disruption is in the head. So, when all these baritones start calling upon us to 'Beat Disruption', I just laugh." (Philip Philipovich's face twisted into such a terrible grimace that the bitten man's mouth fell open.) "Believe me, I just laugh. It means that every one of them should begin by knocking himself over the head! And when he's whacked out all the hallucinations and begins to clean out the barns — the job he was made for — Disruption will disappear of its own accord. You can't serve two gods! It is impossible at one and the same time to sweep the tram lines and to organise the fate of a lot of Spanish ragamuffins. No one can do that, Doctor, and still less people who are roughly two hundred years behind Europe in their general development and are still none too sure how to button up their own trousers!" From 'The Heart of a Dog' (M. Bulgakov) http://www.arvindguptatoys.com/arvindgupta/29r.pdf