Issue #24/79, December 12 - 26, 1999  

The eXile was amused--and a little bit frightened--to learn recently that none other than American Rick Furmanek and his wife Robin had become serious players in the high-stakes gangland media war between the Kremlin "family" and the supporters of mayor Yuri Luzhkov.

Furmanek, the brother-in-law of slain Radisson-Slavyanskaya sleazebag Paul Tatum and author of the hilariously stupid self-published expat memoir Stranded in Moscow, landed in the news when he and his family filed a suit against Luzhkov essentially for being complicit in Tatum's murder.

As a result, the Furmaneks have actually appeared more than once on no less a program than pro-Kremlin media slave Sergei Dorenko's weekend news show on ORT--probably the most influential propaganda vehicle in the entire Russian media. Even Bill Clinton doesn't get as much play on the Dorenko show. In fact, as far as the Russian TV-viewing public is concerned, Rick and Robin Furmanek have been the most important Americans in their lives for several weeks now.

The Furmanek Canon. He believes he can fly.

Which is pretty scary, because Rick and Robin Furmanek are possibly the two very dumbest people in the United States, a compelling case for early euthanasia if there ever was one. In fact, if they make it onto ORT too much more, Russians will be right to launch a nuclear strike against us out of pure terror. But more on that later--much more. For now, the big question is this: how did two yo-yos from the American suburbs become the darlings of the Russian media?

From the Russian side, it's pretty obvious. Dorenko, a notorious media sell-out whose official function is basically to assassinate Boris Berezovsky's enemies on television, has been using Furmanek's accusations against Luzhkov as a means of smearing the mayor on behalf of the Kremlin. Apparently, the Kremlin is anxious to convince Russian voters that Luzhkov kills American businessmen. And when it comes to dead Russian businessmen, Paul Tatum is about as good as it gets, propaganda-wise.

For those of you not familiar with the Tatum story, the gist of it was this: Tatum, a high-stakes shyster with a weakness for whores and a habit for getting involved in situations far beyond his ken, had been involved in a struggle for control over a stake in the Radisson-Slaviyanskaya hotel joint venture. There were three players in that deal, two real and one grasping and small-time. Tatum was the latter, while the two formers were the Moscow City Government and the Radisson company. Tatum had a disagreement of some kind with one of the other parties--we won't get into it here, but pretty much everyone in this town knows which one--and ultimately elected to stay in whore-rich Moscow and get himself pumped full of 11 Kalashnikov rounds, rather than cut his losses and head back to a life of personal ads and one-armed chat rooms in the States.

His shooting death outside the Kievskaya Metro station in November, 1996 caused an international sensation; no American businessman of any prominence, not even one as clueless and sleazy as Tatum, had ever been assassinated in Moscow before. To this day, his death is the most famous instance of gangland violence against Americans in post-communist Russian history.

Now, just on time for the elections, Tatum's death has been revived as an issue in Russia. From where we stand, it seems pretty clear that someone from the Yeltsin camp encouraged Furmanek to go through with his suit now, with the aim of propagandizing it on the eve of the parliamentary vote and the mayoral elections. Why else would the family have waited until now to file suit?

Again, from the Russian side, it makes sense. What is less clear is why Furmanek's family--why any self-respecting American, for that matter-- would go along with being willing propaganda stooges for the other "family" in the Kremlin.

Our first thought was that these people might simply be too out of it to realize what they were getting into. But then we remembered who we were dealing with: Rick Furmanek. We reviewed his book once and knew him: A tool. A self-styled self-help visionary. The very soul of suburban ambition. And, most importantly, a fat man with a very fat wife, doomed to live out his days in a profoundly sedentary and lifeless existence.

Rick Furmanek, we realized, is teaming up with Sergei Dorenko not because he doesn't understand what Dorenko is, but because he wants, like everyone else in America, to BE Sergei Dorenko--rich and famous at any cost. The lowest cost, preferably.

And that's what makes this story so interesting. The partnership of Rick Furmanek and Sergei Dorenko marks the place where American and Russian soullessness intersect--Dorenko the cruel sellout trusty in a nation of camp slaves, Furmanek the struggling everyman desperate to sell out in a nation of sellouts.

Some two and a half years ago, eXile staffer Kevin McElwee actually reviewed Furmanek's book, which had been published on Furmanek's own vanity printing press, Square Peg. The book describes his native Oklahoman family's trials and tribulations living in Moscow after Tatum gave Furmanek a job at the hotel in 1993. The deeply religious Furmanek family lasts about a year, overcoming such scares as walking from the plane to the airport terminal ("I honestly have no idea how we made it to that terminal") having to stand next their luggage at the airport ("I felt exposed and self-conscious") and a fireworks celebration held in the city on Victory Day (the family made it through the night by "turning [their] eyes from the window, praying that everything would be okay"). Eventually, dejected by difficulties in finding a school for their son Seth and a "flat" (which, Furmanek notes, is "what apartments are called in Russia") for the family, as well as by the realization that Russian would most likely remain the national language in town for at least the near future, the Furmaneks returned home to the States. They settled in Arizona, where Rick stocked the family fridge with Devil Dogs using the proceeds from his new job as a web designer.

But the Furmaneks' Russian adventure was not over--far from it, in fact. Although he never actually returned to Russia, Rick went ahead and not only wrote and self-published his book, but compiled a CD-rom collection of photographs of his Russia experience (available for sale online) and set about dedicating his entire life to making a career out of his status as a vanity-published author.

When brother-in-law Tatum was killed, Furmanek wasted no time in taking advantage of the news; he blurbed his status as Tatum's relative on the back jacket of his book, and before long he was actually getting reviewed in a few places as a result. Encouraged, he went on a book tour of sorts and returned home convinced that he and his family were on to something. He actually published--and we're not shitting you here, folks--a how-to guide to giving book signings (more on that in a moment). He created a giant website for his vanity printing press, Square Peg, which contained samples of the Russia-themed poetry written by his wife Robin. Here's one of her offerings, entitled (those seeking proof are welcome to visit Furmanek's web site, www.squarepegpress.com) "Moscow Times". The copyright, incidentally, was added by the Furmaneks:

MOSCOW TIMES
(c)1998 Robin Tatum Furmanek (All Rights Reserved)

I think my favorite part of
this poem is
all the lowercase lettering
and the ellipsis before the words
... "this mafia"

Oops, I'm sorry, I guess we got into the spirit there for a moment. Actually, Robin turns out to be the bigger talent in the family. Her poetry fairly glows with genius and human feeling compared to her husband's published work.

Take a look, for instance, at the following excerpt from Rick's "Book Signing Handbook". This is a truly terrifying document, so if there are small in children in the room while you are reading this, we advise you to send them away for their own protection. What it is a glimpse into a future where the literary world has been taken over by authors raised on a steady diet of self-help books ("The Power of Sales!"), books on tape ("The Winner Within You"), and Tony Robbins seminars. Be sure to remember, when reading this introduction, that it is Furmanek himself who is writing about himself in the third person here. To get the full effect, we suggest reading out loud. Here goes:

THE WRITE ADVICE
THE BOOKSIGNING HANDBOOK
Fall 1998 Release

Still there? You must be a strong person... Anyway, once you realize that this is a person capable of writing "that said, what Rick Furmanek does, he does well" about himself-- without any prompting, on his own self-maintained, little-read web site-- you'll have an idea of what motivated Furmanek to get involved with Dorenko.

The actual "advice" Furmanek provides in his handbook is also stellar reading. It is a chilling record of the self-dialogue of a burgeoning psychotic. With a few minor alterations, it would be a convincing imitation of the Sirhan Sirhan diaries:

(i.e:
"Step One: Should I kill Bobby Kennedy?
A. Yes
   1. buy gun
   2. scope assassination site
B. No
   1. don't buy gun
   2. stay home)

Do The Furmaneks Copulate? Not until it was too late did Rick Furmanek realize that it wasn't the New York Times calling... eXile: Hello? Furmanek: Hello? eXile: Is Rick Furmanek there? Furmanek: This is Rick Furmanek. eXile: Mr. Furmanek, my name is, uh...Sanjay Berkowitz. I work for the New York Times? Furmanek: Mm-hmm! eXile: I'd like to ask you a few questions about the story that's come out, that you're pursuing a lawsuit against Mayor Luzhkov...When was that filed again? Furmanek: On Friday. eXile: And which court has jurisdiction again? Furmanek: Uh, that you'll, um, have to speak with my attorney. He'll be able to clarify that for you. eXile: How did you get the idea to file this suit? Did someone approach you with the idea, someone from the Russian side... Furmanek: Ye-No, it's just basically, we've attempted to do everything that we can to make sure that my brother-in-law's murder isn't swept under the carpet. The disinterest of the United States, and the unwillingness of the Russian government-er, the Moscow City Government to properly investigate the murder is what prompted this...We're really left with no other recourse... eXile: Do you think it might have some kind of positive effect? Furmanek: Well, that's the idea... Of course, money talks with people, and we, uh... bottom line is that we first of all would not like this story to go away, Paul's dream... eXile: His "dream"? Furmanek: Of seeing a true free-market economy built in Russia. eXile: Uh-huh...And, ah...you filed this jointly with your wife? Furmanek: Actually it was the whole Tatum family. That was a misquote from AP... It was actually the entire Tatum family. Paul left no surviving spouse, no children, and it's being filed by his mother and father, and two sisters. eXile: And how long have you and your wife been married? Furmanek: Uh... Ten years. eXile: Do you still have a good sex life? Furmanek: (long, long pause) Why do you ask that? eXile: What's it like having sex with her? Is it gross? Some of the pictures we've seen-she's kind of fat, actually. Furmanek: This conversation has ended. Thank you. eXile: When you go to men's bathrooms, do you check out the guys standing next to you? Furmanek: (hangs up)

Anyway, here's a sample of the Furmanek handbook:

"A BRIEF OUTLINE OF THE FIRST THREE STEPS ARE PROVIDED BELOW
Brief Outline of Step One
EVALUATION
1. Why are you considering a booksigning?
   A. Fame and fortune?
   B. Contacts and support?

To get the full effect here, you have to imagine Furmanek (see picture at right) peering at himself in the mirror as he writes, "Evaluation."

2. Are You a Candidate for a Booksigning?
   A. Captivating or comatose?
   B. Proactive or reactive?

(Furmanek here looks again in the mirror and nods knowingly; he is proactive, captivating...)

3. Is Your Book a Candidate for a Booksigning?
   A. Content?

(scratches chin, smiles; he's got content!)

In "Part 3" of this document, Furmanek goes on to offer a flow-chart style method for handling the cold call (read: sales pitch) to the targeted bookstore:

3. Ask the important questions
A. Do they host booksignings?
   1. Yes [!]
      a. Ask what days of the week seem to work best
      b. Ask what time frames receive the best response
      c. Ask what types of booksignings they host
   2. No [!!!]
      a. Ask if they would consider hosting a signing
      b. Offer to cooperate and help make it a success

At one point, Furmanek offers advice, we swear to God, on how to determine what your own name is:

2. Introducing yourself
A. Who are you going to be?
   1. Author
   2. Publisher
B. What is your name going to be?
   1. Your given name
   2. Your pen name
   3. Another name [!!!!!]

Furmanek at another point offers advice on how to design and create your own bookmarks, which he considers a "great way to promote your book." Among other things, he instructs his readers to use Adobe Photoshop to "make copies" of the bookmark (so that there will be more than one bookmark fit for cutting out on each printed page) and to "use scissors" to trim the excess paper ("as desired"!) around the bookmark after they have been reduced to size with a paper cutter.

What's most amazing about this isn't just that this is a person who clearly needs post-it notes to help him get through the process of tying his shoes ("make double knot, pull tightly then stand up. Ask yourself: are your shoes too tight? Do the laces need to be loosened?"), but that he actually believes that he can make a career out of selling those post-it notes. You can actually see, visually, the awesome level of desperation in Furmanek's soul; he is grotesquely desperate to be accepted, which in America these days means being able to "sell yourself."

The scary part is, he just might succeed--there are enough people out there as lost as he is that there may actually be a market for his "advice."

And why not? After all, what is the secret to "selling yourself," if not the belief that you have something to sell? It's an article of faith. And Furmanek, the born-again Christian, knows as much about believing as the next guy. It doesn't matter what you're selling--it matters that you believe in the sale! Rick Furmanek believes, and God help him.

Actually, for Furmanek's sake, we almost hope this thing with Dorenko works out for him. Because there is every indication that if these fifteen minutes of borrowed Goebbels-style-fame don't work out for him, he may be finally overwhelmed by the creeping emptiness in his soul and decide to pack it in at last. Without Sergei Dorenko, Rick Furmanek has nothing to live for in his empty suburban life. Don't believe us? Ask Furmanek himself. He as much as admitted it in a poem of his, entitled "Promises":

PROMISES
(c)1993 Rick Furmanek
(All Rights Reserved)