Dmitry Berger is not really a writer. Come to think of it, he is not much of anything, despite a long array of various jobs and experience he has had.
After twenty-seven years in the USSR, he traded all the excitement of perestroika for the calm suburbs of Ottawa, Canada, where he continues to expand his raging interest in every bit of what is life: from quantum physics to kinky sex, from soccer tactic to American political circus, from the inner workings of our brains to slow roasting back ribs, in order to cram it all into his writings and music.
