Kostya Pushkin is someone who finds not glimmers of hope but new material in everyday absurdity. In his concert "It's All Jokes" the world is perceived as a ground for sarcastic observations: farsightedness becomes, if not a gift, then certainly an excuse, and reality resembles a protracted race between smallpox of monkeys and another "fuck you" in response to the news.
In his search for some kind of meaning, Pushkin constructs a parade of strange equalities - between midgets, the fat, and those whom society has effectively consigned to "special." No one here is surprised by bomb shelters in unexpected places and restaurants for those who don't fit into any standards.
In an era when justice is a mirage on the horizon, his humor serves not as a guiding star, but rather as a "no way out" sign. The only thing left to do is laugh.
