Introduction

Addition and Subtraction

Leave everything, take your homeland. That’s what an old song from the south teaches us. And we blew up our homelands all over the world, but there are more and more of them here, in the native land. We have always packed our homelands for the trip first, even if only in jars and bottles, in saddlebags and trunks. On Sunday evening, we would rush back to our urban dwellings laden with homeland. We also prepared for our former compatriots to take, and were later surprised when they registered our products as their own and would still like to sell us a license for them. So our ajvar, rakia, jam are listed on the UNESCO heritage list by others. ”Make sure you have it in the basement, let them have lists, they can eat those”, winked the grandfather.
The new issue of the National Review is in front of you. Through it, Divčibare, Niš, Kosovo and Armenia are in front of you. We say goodbye to the master of photography Željko Sinobad, one of us. We are reminded of the poet Brana Petrović, we are talking to the literary historian Jovan Pejčić. We are visiting water polo player Dušan Mandić, the one who announced again this summer, in Tokyo, with his left hand that there is God. And the old companions are there, everyone.
If at all possible, avoid cemeteries. They are crowded.