“Serbs are like mastiffs, dogs who love their masters so much that they kill him as soon as they feel their end is near,” an old distinguished Belgrade gentleman says, sitting on a bench in small park on the Republic Square [in Belgrade]. Without waiting for a question to be asked he immediately looks and nods toward a nearby plaque with the name of Zoran Djindjic [assassinated Serbian prime minister], which was put up on the first anniversary of his assassination. Those who think differently toppled it in mid-March.
The man leaves, saying: “[size=6]We [/size]are very nasty people,” and waving his hand. We do not intend to discuss the Serbian hobby, the nation’s inclination to frequently murder its rulers – we leave that to other professions. The idea is to highlight a certain, also rather unfortunate, phenomena. Some people, true, very few (at least publicly) of them, rejoice in misfortunes, even deaths of others.
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