Word: dreadfulness
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Communism promises everything to the proletariat. The great theoretical Marxist engine, after all, repairs the dread alienation of "heartless" capitalism by restoring the means of production to the workers. Well, as the Polish emigre writer Leszek Kolakowski, an apostate Marxist, has said, that "has been the greatest fantasy of our century." Observes TIME Correspondent David Aikman, who has covered Eastern Europe extensively: "It is exceedingly hard to find anyone there, and especially in Poland, who believes the official mythology that states run by Communist parties are actually operated for the benefit of the workers. Party officials will sometimes...
...which it bears out his view of the world, but he does not look forward to it. Not looking forward to winter is his philosophy. But that is too simple. A flatlander who finds one of us sunk in gloom at the beginning of July, fossilized by dread of winter, may think that he has understood the New Hampshire soul. This is not likely. What the tourist is almost certain to miss is that the New Hampshireman may not be wrestling with the prospect of the winter immediately ahead. "Aye-yuh," the foresighted backwoodsman is thinking, "summah's about...
...town, for instance, there is a meadow in which stand, drying nobly, seven two-cord stacks of firewood. Clearly the fabricator of these splendid piles will be warm not only through the winter ahead, which all agree will be unusually cold, but even through the dark and dread winter of the year after next...
...Peachum still has higher things on his mind: existential dread, for instance. "When they brought the news to me that another bunch at Oxford had scrapped Causality, I stretched out with an icebag on my head. Then it was all random. Certainty was a gone goose, and the soul with it. The soul was a clinker, cold as the meteorites that fell on Toulouse, Knyahinya and, if memory served, Pultusk and Mocs. Man has no purpose...
...what are ye safe from while imperiling your own souls? For he who said he would come as a thief in the night will do even so, and all your alarms will avail you naught in that hour when ye shall see him face to face . . . For in that dread day you shall get the message. Without CB . . . it shall be, that's it, buddy boy. For not all the air conditioning in the world can make you anything but a stench in my nostrils, yea an abomination unto my schnozz. You with your disposable lighters...