Abstract: I'll run the parapet and won't fall.Don't contradict me.Have pity.Your cowardly eyes are unpleasant to the gods* Your mouths open not to the point.Your noses know nothing of trembling smells.Eat soup -that's your occupation.Sweep your rooms -it's your eternal fate.But take from me your blindfolds and your wrappings.My food is salt, and yours is sugar.I have ray own gardens and my own fields.My own goats are at pasture there.In my trunk is a fur hat.Don't contradict me, I am myself, and for me you are only a quarter's whiff of smoke.Alexander Ivanovich Vvedenskii was born in Petersburg in 1904, a year earlier than Kharms.In many ways, he was Kharms's opposite, more ordinary in his comportment and more radical in his art.Vvedenskii certainly had less interest in the object world.Unlike Kharms, he dressed carelessly; his clothes were rumpled and he was as often as not unshaven.His room, unlike Kharms's, had nothing in it -indeed, a tax inspector who went there one day to find out what was becoming of Vvedenskii's literary earnings is reported to have left muttering, "It's a dog's life, worse than ours!"Both Kharms and Vvedenskii were incapable of holding onto money even on the rare occasions when they had it, but Vvedenskii, unlike Kharms, was an inveterate gambler, capable of losing his pay while still in line for it.Kharms loved music and sang well; Vvedenskii detested it* He insisted that the only sound he could stand was his own whistle, and then only after getting paid or winning at cards.Alisa Poret, an artist of the school of Filonov who worked as a children's illustrator, remembers how she and Kharms tricked the unfortunate Vvedenskii into attending a concert.The music, Mozart's Requiem, gave Kharms and Poret ample opportunity to play on Vvedenskii's moribund preoccupations, and the picture that emerges is entirely consonant with his poetry and plays: