The letter by Mr. Petrovic does not realy deserves an answer, to begin
with. Having that in mind, the following lines should not be treated as a
response to his brief and clearly disturbed line of thought, but rather as
an expression of my amasement with the state of mind that is able to create
such thoughts. Dear God, what turns dreams into nonsense?
 
Even the strongest argument loses its charm and power when presented in a
poorly conceptualised manner. When there is no argument at all, let alone a
clear line of thought, one is puzzled by the reasons that lay behind one's
writing.

It is good that Mr. Petrovic is familiar with so many details from the area
of general history of the ancient world. I am happy for him. However, I am
a bit puzzled by the lack of clarity in his, othervise passionate letter.
Passionate but out of place, I have to say. His imagination is, at times,
running wild. As an imagination of an explorer, it creates its own mental
landscapes that are far removed from reality. Reality is not his friend. 

I am particularly grateful for his distinction between Avars and Mongols.
If it hasn't for his scientific depth and the sharp eye, I would have
stayed shielded from this body of knowledge. It was enlightening and
inspiring. It was also most enlightening that Mr. Petrovic finaly cleared
centuries old debate about Khazars and their origin. He said it all. 

But, the revelation that truly struck the cord was the one about the racial
difference between Serbs and Croats. Well done, my boy! Vasilije Krestic
should be proud of you. He is of the same opinion and the two of you should
get together and work on his theory about Croats as genocidal nation. 

I will disregard the ignorance, blind hate and the lack of style that is so
obvious in this letter and will only express my amazement in respect to the
last paragraph of Mr. Petrovic's letter. He should decide who he is in
terms of racial, ethnic, religious and national identity. It is rather
difficult  and could have a devastating effect on one's mental health, to
try and be two things at the time. This reminded me of the phenomenon of
'Tobelia' (Ostanica) - a girl who decides to become a man and dresses as
one,  performing the duties that were traditionaly those of men. 

At the end I am not absolutely certain who Mr. Petrovic is: a Serb or a
Montenegrin; an Avar or a Kharaz;  a sleeping beauty who mumbles in her
dream, or an individual who needs the professional help. 

Srdja Pavlovic

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