♪ i took a walk through this beautiful world ♪ whatever you think of this guy, his dead, affectless eyes, his smooth pulled tight like a snare drum face, he ain't going anywhere. look at him. he's the russian superman, the kgb middle manager desk jockey turned expression of greater russia's hopes and dreams. he lets no opportunity to take his shirt off pass him by. pose with a large gun? he's there. and no matter how transparently autocratic, vengeful, oblivious to even a thin veneer of democracy, russians love him. they seem to feel about him like new yorkers used to feel about giuliani. he may be a son of a bitch, but he's our son of a bitch. it's february 2014, and the sochi olympics are just coming up when i arrive in moscow. it's a different moscow every time i come here. the '80s-style go-go capitalist