Tuesday January 26th 2016Tim
kind of The Gulag out there and temperatures high enough
for the work gangs. Imagine concrete would set and Ivan
Ivanovich would be trudging through wet snow and mud
toward the project, he'd have inadequate clothing, his
boots would leak, his breakfast would have been lean,
hard physical labor, his lips cracked, and his hands so
cold he'd not feel the blisters.
anxious for his reputation would be pressing upon his
reluctant disciples the need for progress, the importance of
progress, the value of progress and there'd be no progress
without another ten yards of concrete mixed and poured. And
far away, six time zones away, there was pork on the table,
peeled potato and pickled cabbage for Lunch.