E-book: Yuri Larin “History of the Universe. History of the Universe

Yuri Larin(real name Mikhail Zalmanovich Lurie; , - , ) - activist of the Russian revolutionary movement.

Biography

Nephew of famous Russian publishers. From his youth, despite a serious illness - progressive muscular atrophy, he participated in the local Social Democratic movement, in - gg. headed the Social Democrats of Odessa.

In addition to well-known and national projects, he was involved in a number of strange and semi-fantastic initiatives - including being the ideologist of the project to resettle the USSR (and later the whole world to Crimea for study agriculture, primarily viticulture). To implement this project, the Public Committee for the Land Arrangement of Jewish Workers () was created, of which Larin became the chairman. The project was partially funded. Several thousand Jews actually moved to the north (mainly to the lands of the present (two villages in this area were named after Larin: Larino and Larindorf (now Krestyanovka)), but various obstacles did not allow Larin to fully realize this idea.

Daughter Larina Anna Mikhailovna Larina (1914-1996) - wife, author of the famous memoirs “Unforgettable”.

Essays

• Letters about Germany 1917
• Labor conscription and workers' control M., 1918
• Peasants and workers in the Russian revolution Pg., 1918
• (with L. Kritsman) Essay on economic life and organization National economy Soviet Russia(1917-1920) M., 1920
• Results, ways and conclusions of the new economic policy M., 1923
• Economy of a pre-Soviet village M.-L., 1926
• "Private Capital in the USSR" (1927)
• "Wartime State Capitalism in Germany (1914-1918)" (1928).
• "The Social Structure of the Jewish Population" (1928),
• "Territorial regrouping of the Jewish population" (1928),
• "Jews and anti-Semitism in the USSR" (1929).

About Yu. Larin himself

• Filonenko A. L. Time of Yu. Larin 1996

Other books on similar topics:

What was it? – Uriel asked, seeing Me, empty-handed.
“As I expected, the soul of a mortal,” I answered.
- But why did she look like that? – Mikhail was surprised.
“During his life, the mortal to whom this soul belonged abused alcohol,” I began to explain, “and after the death of his body, this addiction was passed on to her.” As you know, souls cannot drink or eat, but they smell. Leaving the mortal body, the soul of an alcohol addict rushes to the smell in order to find a mortal who is partial to alcohol. Having found one, she clings to him. She wants to eat constantly, and she forces him to drink alcohol again and again. Over time, it becomes a vile, disgusting entity, eking out its existence only thanks to the fumes of alcohol.

I have never read anything more truthful than Yuri Larin’s book “The History of the Universe.” I recommend it to everyone who is in doubt and has a weak understanding of the history of God.

Other articles in the literary diary:

• 13.06.2017. The soul of a drunkard in the History of the Universe.

The daily audience of the portal Stikhi.ru is about 200 thousand visitors, who total amount view more than two million pages according to the traffic counter, which is located to the right of this text. Each column contains two numbers: the number of views and the number of visitors.

Preface.

From an ancient manuscript that miraculously ended up in my hands, I learned why we were born and live in this world. It describes in detail the origin of planets, angels, demons and much more. This one is unique in literally words, the book turned my worldview upside down and made me look at life from a different perspective.
But first things first.

Over the many years of working as a special correspondent, I have repeatedly witnessed how innocent people were seriously injured and died. Upon retirement, I purchased small house outside the city and decided to write a book about the injustice happening in our world. I have accumulated a sufficient amount of material about those who are guilty of the bloody showdowns, and the reasons why “ the mighty of the world this” broke the destinies of millions of people. But a tragic incident that happened to my friend, the captain of a small fishing boat, changed the topic dramatically future book.

His ship, returning to port with a good catch, was blown up by a mine from the First World War. Two more fishermen died along with him, the rest received only light injuries.
Walking from the cemetery together with a former colleague from the journalistic workshop, I said indignantly:
- Why does this happen? Where's the justice? He hasn't done anything wrong in his life.
- If you are so interested, study the genealogy of all those who died, and you may find the answer. Believe me, there is something mystical in this! – my colleague said mysteriously.

His answer made me want to figure things out. I rummaged through many archives and discovered that the fishermen who received mortal wounds had ancestors who were sailors. Moreover, at the beginning of the twentieth century they served on the same minelayer. I analyzed this case and came to the conclusion that after many years, their descendants somehow incredibly ended up together again on the same ship and possibly died from a mine laid by their great-great-grandfathers. What is this? Was it just a coincidence, or some unknown force that brought them together? But for what? These questions haunted me.

Day after day I delved into the archives, studying similar cases. I got carried away by this topic and completely forgot about my birthday, to which my children, grandchildren and great-grandchildren arrived without warning, bringing gifts and treats with them.
I sat at a hastily set table, listening to wishes for health and longevity. When the idle congratulations were over, I unexpectedly voiced the first thought that came to mind:
- Thank you for your kind words, but for long years life should be desired by the young. And it’s time for me to think about my soul. After all, the time is not far off when my hour of death will come.

One of my great-grandchildren remembered these words. Like all children his age, he was very inquisitive. Choosing a moment when I was alone, he came up and asked:
- Grandfather, what will happen to you when you die? And what does it mean to “think about the soul”?
This formulation of the question puzzled me. Unable to think of anything better, I said:
- You’re still young, you’ll grow up and you’ll find out everything yourself.
And in order not to answer his questions further, I quickly went to the guests, leaving the boy without an answer.

The next morning, yesterday’s short conversation with my great-grandson surfaced in my memory. The boy's question made me think.
I retired to my office. I began to remember my youth and reflect on the topic of death.
In youth and beyond mature age clung to life by all means, just to survive. Fear of death drove rash acts, from which innocent people sometimes suffered. The instinct of self-preservation was paramount. And in old age, “bony” began to be presented as something inevitable, and the feeling of fear of it noticeably decreased. But I didn’t want to bring her closer ahead of time. After all, it is unknown what awaits us after meeting her. I intuitively felt that the boy's question was closely related to my recent research.

“Everything is decided,” I thought. “I will spend the rest of my life searching for answers to my great-grandson’s questions.”
Taking out a blank sheet of paper from the desk drawer, I made the first note.
1.What awaits us after death?
2.What is the soul?
After thinking a little, he added.
3. Why were we born and live in this world?

I decided that I could find the answers in the Bible, and began to scrupulously study it, trying to read “between the lines.” But it turned out that after a few weeks I only increased the number of questions. Taking the original list out of the table, I made another entry.
4. How and where did God come from?
- "What's next? - I thought. - There are also the Alexandrian, Vatican, Sinaiticus codes. Or maybe it’s worth looking for answers in scriptures other religions? – it dawned on me, and without delay I set off to “surf” the Internet.

Later I met researchers from various religious teachings, as well as with archaeologists who dedicated their lives to searching for artifacts. I have read the Koran, Vedas and other Holy Scriptures. From them I learned a lot of new things for myself. But I never found a clear answer to my questions, but only added new items to the list.

During my research, I published in one of the publications my version of the creation of the world, the confrontation between angels and demons, based on the Holy Scriptures and some artifacts. But that’s just a theory, I didn’t have direct evidence.
I felt that death was just around the corner, and it was upsetting that my great-grandson’s questions remained unanswered. If earlier I visited the temple of God from time to time, now, in the hope of getting answers to my questions, I tried to visit it regularly.

And then one day at four in the morning I was woken up by a phone call. "What could have happened?" - I thought with alarm, because at such a time no one had called me for a long time.
“Hello,” I said with excitement.
“Hello,” I heard a soft baritone at the other end of the telephone receiver, “sorry for calling so early, but the matter is urgent.” I have read your article and think I can help you provide more accurate information.
– Who am I talking to? - I became interested. - How can you help me?
“My name is Mikhail, I’m an archaeologist,” the pleasant voice continued. - The fact is that while excavating an ancient temple, I found an amazing artifact. I think you will be interested in it. If you want, I can show it to you.
- Certainly! – I was happy. - When can we meet?
- I'm passing through here and calling from the airport. If it’s convenient for you, I’ll come now.
- Yes Yes! – hastily agreed. “I’m looking forward to seeing you,” and hung up.

“I didn’t tell him my address! - I caught myself, but immediately calmed down. - He found out my phone number, which means he found out my address too. I need to get myself in order, I should be arriving in about thirty minutes.”
I had barely finished taking my morning toilet when the doorbell rang and I heard a familiar voice:
- Open up, this is Mikhail.
“I’m coming, I’m coming,” I shouted, putting on my shirt as I walked. He glanced fleetingly at his watch and noted to himself that from the moment telephone conversation no more than seven minutes passed.
“Please,” I said, opening the door with slight excitement, “please come in.”

A blond man entered the house. He looked to be about thirty years old, tall, dressed in a white suit and shoes of the same color. He held a large cardboard box in his hands.
“Hello, I’m Mikhail,” the blue-eyed man introduced himself, looking at me kindly. The slight smile on his round face was conducive to communication.
“I’ll make coffee and sandwiches now,” I fussed.
“Don’t worry, we were well fed on the plane,” he said, continuing to smile. -Besides, I don't have much time.

Mikhail put the box on the floor and slowly opened it. He carefully took out a book bound in thick leather and handed it to me. With hands trembling with excitement, I took the heavy tome.
– Did you subject it to spectral analysis? What era does the book belong to? Who is author? – I bombarded Mikhail with questions.
“Read it,” Mikhail stopped smiling and spoke in a serious tone. - You yourself have to answer these questions.
-Have you even read it yourself? - I asked incredulously.
“Only the first page,” he replied. - After which I realized that it was not intended for me. With that, let me take my leave, I have to go. On the way back I'll stop by to pick it up. Goodbye!
- Bon Voyage! – I wished, accompanying him to the door. - Thank you.

I proceeded to my office. He put the heavy book on the table. He sat down in a chair and carefully opened the strange tome. In it, on time-worn pages, the following was written in calligraphic handwriting:
“Greetings, My friend! I see your tenacity and perseverance that you show during your next rebirth. And I decided to provide you with some clarification. This manuscript contains what humanity needs to know and nothing more. Don't be surprised when you find blank slates. Look carefully at them, and you will see with your own eyes what I wanted to show you. In the world where I live, chronology is different from the earthly one, so I ask you not to attach numbers special significance. If you have any questions, you can ask Mikhail later.”

“Strange,” I thought, taking my eyes away from the book for a second. The yellowed, shabby-looking pages turned out to be very durable. After flipping through a few pages, he found a blank sheet and began to look at it intently. Suddenly an image appeared, and, as if on a TV screen, I saw children in snow-white clothes, looking at each other with great interest. Involuntarily he slammed the manuscript shut. A slight chill ran down my back.
“Some kind of mysticism,” I thought. “Or maybe they decided to play a trick on me and put some kind of nanosheet with an emerging image in the book?”

With some apprehension, I began to carefully examine the tome, but did not find any microcircuits or batteries. Opening the manuscript in the middle, I again looked at the blank sheet. This time I saw a humanoid creature with wings on its back unsuccessfully trying to get out of the shackles of ice.
Out of sudden fear, he abruptly closed the book again.
A doubt crept into me: is it worth studying this manuscript? Isn't she dangerous? But natural curiosity forced me to open the pages again, overpowering my own sense of fear.
“That’s it, stop being distracted,” I told myself and continued reading.

History of the Universe
Yuri Larin

Who are we? Who are we for ourselves and for God? Only she – the book – can answer this question. As soon as it opens its pages before your eyes, a journey begins through the mysterious corridors of history... The History of the Universe.

History of the Universe

Yuri Larin

Illustrator Olga Levina

© Yuri Larin, 2018

© Olga Levina, illustrations, 2018

ISBN 978-5-4493-5850-9

Created in the intellectual publishing system Ridero

Part one

Preface

From an ancient manuscript that miraculously ended up in my hands, I learned why we were born and why we live in this world. It describes in detail the origin of planets, angels, demons and much more. This unique book, in the literal sense of the word, turned my worldview upside down and made me look at life from a different perspective.

But first things first.

Over the many years of working as a special correspondent, I have repeatedly witnessed how innocent people were seriously injured and died. After retiring, I bought a small house outside the city and decided to write a book about the injustice happening in our world. I have accumulated a sufficient amount of material about those who are guilty of the bloody showdowns, and the reasons why the “powers of this world” broke the destinies of millions of people. But the tragic incident that happened to my friend, the captain of a small fishing boat, radically changed the topic of the future book.

His ship, returning to port with a good catch, was blown up by a mine from the First World War. Two more fishermen died along with him, the rest received only light injuries.

Walking from the cemetery together with a former colleague from the journalistic workshop, I said indignantly:

- Why does this happen? Where's the justice? He hasn't done anything wrong in his life.

– If you are so interested, study the genealogy of all those who died, and you may find the answer. Believe me, there is something mystical in this! – my colleague said mysteriously.

His answer made me want to figure things out. I rummaged through many archives and discovered that the fishermen who received mortal wounds had ancestors who were sailors. Moreover, at the beginning of the twentieth century they served on the same minelayer. I analyzed this case and came to the conclusion that after many years, their descendants somehow incredibly ended up together again on the same ship and possibly died from a mine laid by their great-great-grandfathers. What is this? Was it just a coincidence, or some unknown force that brought them together? But for what? These questions haunted me.

Day after day I delved into the archives, studying similar cases. I got carried away by this topic and completely forgot about my birthday, to which my children, grandchildren and great-grandchildren arrived without warning, bringing gifts and treats with them.

I sat at a hastily set table, listening to wishes for health and longevity. When the idle congratulations were over, I unexpectedly voiced the first thought that came to mind:

– Thank you for your kind words, but we should wish young people long years of life. And it’s time for me to think about my soul. After all, the time is not far off when my hour of death will come.

One of my great-grandchildren remembered these words. Like all children his age, he was very inquisitive. Choosing a moment when I was alone, he came up and asked:

- Grandfather, what will happen to you when you die? And what does it mean to “think about the soul”?

This formulation of the question puzzled me. Unable to think of anything better, I said:

“You’re still young, you’ll grow up and you’ll find out everything yourself.”

The next morning, yesterday’s short conversation with my great-grandson surfaced in my memory. The boy's question made me think.

I retired to my office. I began to remember my youth and reflect on the topic of death.

In his youth and in adulthood, he clung to life by all means, just to survive. Fear of death pushed people to take rash actions, which sometimes caused innocent people to suffer. The instinct of self-preservation was paramount. And in old age, “bony” began to be presented as something inevitable, and the feeling of fear of it noticeably decreased. But I didn’t want to bring her closer ahead of time. After all, it is unknown what awaits us after meeting her. I intuitively felt that the boy's question was closely related to my recent research.

“Everything is decided,” I thought. “I will spend the rest of my life looking for answers to my great-grandson’s questions.”

Taking out a blank sheet of paper from the desk drawer, I made the first note.

1.What awaits us after death?
2.What is the soul?
After thinking a little, he added.
3. Why were we born and live in this world?

I decided that I could find the answers in the Bible, and began to scrupulously study it, trying to read “between the lines.” But it turned out that after a few weeks I only increased the number of questions. Taking the original list out of the table, I made another entry.

4. How and where did God come from?

- "What's next? – I thought. – There are also the Alexandrian, Vatican, Sinaiticus codes. Or maybe it’s worth looking for answers in the Holy Scriptures of other religions?” – it dawned on me, and without delay I set off to “surf” the Internet.

Subsequently, he met researchers of various religious teachings, as well as archaeologists who devoted their lives to searching for artifacts. I have read the Koran, Vedas and other Holy Scriptures. From them I learned a lot of new things for myself. But I never found a clear answer to my questions, but only added new items to the list.

During my research, I published in one of the publications my version of the creation of the world, the confrontation between angels and demons, based on the Holy Scriptures and some artifacts. But that’s just a theory, I didn’t have direct evidence.

I felt that death was just around the corner, and it was upsetting that my great-grandson’s questions remained unanswered. If earlier I visited the temple of God from time to time, now, in the hope of getting answers to my questions, I tried to visit it regularly.

And then one day at four in the morning I was woken up by a phone call. "What could have happened?" – I thought with alarm, because at such a time no one had called me for a long time.

“Hello,” I said with excitement.

“Hello,” I heard a soft baritone at the other end of the telephone receiver, “sorry for calling so early, but the matter is urgent.” I have read your article and think I can help you provide more accurate information.

– Who am I talking to? – I became interested. - How can you help me?

“My name is Mikhail, I’m an archaeologist,” the pleasant voice continued. – The fact is that during excavations of an ancient temple I found an amazing artifact. I think you will be interested in it. If you want, I can show it to you.

- Certainly! – I was happy. - When can we meet?

“I’m passing through here and calling from the airport.” If it’s convenient for you, I’ll come now.

- Yes Yes! – hastily agreed. “I’m looking forward to seeing you,” and hung up.

“I didn’t tell him my address! – I caught myself, but immediately calmed down. “He found out my phone number, which means he got my address too.” I need to get myself in order, I should be arriving in about thirty minutes.”

I had barely finished taking my morning toilet when the doorbell rang and I heard a familiar voice:

- Open up, it’s Mikhail.

“I’m coming, I’m coming,” I shouted, putting on my shirt as I walked. He glanced fleetingly at his watch and noted to himself that no more than seven minutes had passed since the telephone conversation.

“Please,” I said, opening the door with slight excitement, “please come in.”

A blond man entered the house. He looked to be about thirty years old, tall, dressed in a white suit and shoes of the same color. He held a large cardboard box in his hands.

“Hello, I’m Mikhail,” the blue-eyed man introduced himself, looking at me kindly. The slight smile on his round face was conducive to communication.

“I’ll make coffee and sandwiches now,” I fussed.

“Don’t worry, we were well fed on the plane,” he said, continuing to smile. “Besides, I don’t have much time.”

Mikhail put the box on the floor and slowly opened it. He carefully took out a book bound in thick leather and handed it to me. With hands trembling with excitement, I took the heavy tome.

– Did you subject it to spectral analysis? What era does the book belong to? Who is author? – I bombarded Mikhail with questions.

“Read it,” Mikhail stopped smiling and spoke in a serious tone. – You yourself have to answer these questions.

– Have you even read it yourself? – I asked incredulously.

“Only the first page,” he replied. “Then I realized that it was not intended for me.” With that, let me take my leave, I have to go. On the way back I'll stop by to pick it up. Goodbye!

- Bon Voyage! – I wished, accompanying him to the door. - Thank you.

“Just in time,” I thought when I saw a detachment of angels led by Gabriel and Metatron, who were wedging themselves into the ranks of evil spirits.
The depths of space were illuminated by flashes of fire - Asmodeus and his army were furiously chopping the seal on the gates of hell. The sparks created by the blades scattered so far that mortals could see them through their powerful telescopes. A few thousand more strikes and the seal went out. At the same time, having broken the resistance of the troops of Python and Mammon, Gabriel and Metatron systematically moved through the hordes of demons to the opening gates.

I told you I would get out of here!!! - Lucifer roared, flying out of hell. Following him, accompanied by demons, the figure of Beelzebub appeared.
- Enough! - I reasoned, and released a blinding light outside. For everyone who was a participant or witness to this action, time stood still. I flew up to Lucifer and brought his head out of his stillness. The fallen man's revived eyes flashed angrily and stared at me.
- Now what? – he asked angrily, looking around.
“It all depends on you,” I said. - Look what your stubbornness has led to.

With a movement of my hand, I slowly turned it one hundred and eighty degrees. Hundreds of thousands of angels and demons froze in a fierce battle. Many were already lying exhausted from blows from weapons.
- Look, these are the ones you rely on. - I zoomed in on the picture depicting members of the diaspora. The tired appearance of Python and Mammon spoke of how hard it was for them to hold back the blows of the archangels, and Satan and Astaroth, being at a respectful distance from the battlefield, looked indifferently at what was happening. And only three heads of Asmodeus expressed wild delight at the appearance of Lucifer. - If you managed to pay attention, then Belial and Abaddon are not here at all.

Why are you showing me all this? – Lucifer asked rudely.
- So that you finally understand that there is no agreement and mutual understanding in your team. It’s high time for you to understand that I will always be one step ahead and will stop any of your ideas.
- So destroy us! – Lucifer’s eyes sparkled with hatred.
- You know that this is not in my rules. In the near future, you will liquidate yourself. And now I will send everyone you just saw to hell.
“Well, well,” Lucifer said gloatingly. - The darkness is stronger than anyone, it will still free us, and what is happening behind your back once again proves this.

Turning around, I saw that Mammon, Python, Astaroth and Satan, who had remained out of my field of vision for a split second, had disappeared without a trace.
“It turns out,” Lucifer continued, grinning, “that not everything is under your control.” Sooner or later, I will get out of here.
“Stupid people,” I tried to reason. - Without knowing it, you are only hastening your death.
- So if you are not going to destroy us, then how can we die? – asked Lucifer. - Or will you change your principles?
“You will die from your own vices,” I answered calmly.
- Like this? – Lucifer didn’t understand.
“Figure it out for yourself,” I said, making passes with my hands.

Lucifer tried to say something else, but the fiery tornado I called picked up the members of the diaspora remaining on the battlefield, and with a terrible roar dragged them into the half-open gates of hell. Having placed the seal in its place, I started time again, thereby bringing my assistants out of their stupor.
-Where are all the evil spirits? – Metatron asked in amazement.
“In hell,” I answered.
- The entire diaspora? - Gabriel asked.
- Unfortunately no. The darkness somehow managed to awaken Astaroth, and he managed to take Satan, Python and Mammon with him.

A few minutes later, the rest of the archangels arrived at the signal sent by Gabriel.
- What happened here? – Mikhail asked first.
- Unsuccessful attempt diaspora to free the prisoners of hell,” Metatron answered.
“As a result,” Gabriel picked up, “purgatory was replenished with Asmodeus.”
- I wonder how long the diaspora will go into the shadows? – Uriel asked.
“No,” I answered, “The darkness will not let them sit idle.” As soon as they come to their senses after what happened today, they will start doing mischief again. We should focus our attention on Earth. This is where the Devil will throw his forces, but let’s not forget about other worlds. As recent events have shown, they are masters of preparing large-scale provocations and wars.

Perhaps a sign could be made on Earth to demonstrate what will happen to those who do not honor God? Sandalphon asked. - Otherwise, people, and indeed other civilizations that have settled on the planet, have forgotten about their purpose - to love and do good.
“I believe that any forced action will only alienate their souls,” said Raphael. - Another solution to the current problem is needed. They must choose God with their hearts, and not by imposition.
“You’re right,” Gabriel agreed. - I guess, that The best way direct people to the right direction- a personal example of one of them. He must clearly show what he should strive for in this life, namely to love and give kindness to others.
“Choose a suitable candidate,” I turned to Sandalphon. - And I will direct the Divine Spirit into his soul.
- What will be the essence of his mission? Sandalphon asked.
“It’s very simple,” I answered, “he will give good things.”

“That’s good,” Sandalphon said. “But I’m also worried about the fact that at the moment a ship from Paros is heading to Earth. He takes there the Atlanteans who staged a riot in the city of Mir.
- Isn’t this dangerous? – Raphael asked. - They can do such a thing!
“Don’t worry,” Gabriel answered. - Since they do not have the death penalty and prisons, the court decided to clear their memory and send them to Earth so that their presence would not remind of the tragic incident.
- But we know very well that with their life expectancy, sooner or later their memory will return to them. How then? – Uriel asked.

You probably forgot,” Gabriel continued, “that life on Earth is very different, and their lifespan will be no more than a thousand years. And if we also take into account the fact that they were sent without a vitamin and mineral complex that supports life expectancy, then they are unlikely to be able to cross the three-hundred-year mark.
“Besides,” Mikhail entered the dialogue, “tireless hunters are already settling down on this planet.” They will make sure that evil spirits do not approach the Atlanteans and stir up their memory. But, to be honest, I’m a little worried about my players. Not only has the lifespan of Saaram’s warriors been cut in half, but the fact that they now contain simple mortal souls is also alarming, and no matter how this affects their behavior.

The blood flowing in their veins does not contain information about addictions, so I think your worries are in vain,” Metatron said.
“It’s good if that’s the case,” Mikhail answered.
- Well, a new round of life begins on Earth. Its population is becoming so diverse that it only awakens interest in it. I ask you all to pay attention to it, but without damaging the systems entrusted to you. All the best! – I finished.

Full version: https://ridero.ru/books/istoriya_mirozdaniya/

Reviews

You have almost clearly demonstrated to my grandchildren how carnal vices arise, arise and develop, leading to murder, suicide, gluttony, alcoholism and homosexuality and their consequences.

Thank you for this socially important philosophical work, which teaches how to resist vices and the forces of evil. Your work is a draft script for a multi-part saga about the creation of the world and the battle for pure human souls.

Yuri, I congratulate you and your family on the New Year 2018 and Merry Christmas!
I wish you peace, goodness, prosperity and more health, as well as creative success!
With bow, Oleg Alexandrovich.