It is only fitting that this slavic blog (slag?) should end as it began - its author in no condition to be smithing mighty words from mere syllables; indeed suffering from the great slur of the tongue and slip of the mind that comes only from a calculated sleep deprivation, the bedcompany of minor hallucinations. It is irresponsible of me to leave you in such hands, such hands attached to a body that has too long been composting in an airport on the Bed Bath and Beyond side of the iron curtain in the middle of an obscenely long layover while paying too much for McDonalds coffee and feeling the early pangs of the constipation that said coffee, taken black, cannot help but prolong. This is certainly a history better suited to pre-Columbian view of time than the rigid acyclic notion held by my European progenitors, and with that as consolation I hope you'll excuse my indiscretion in leaving it up to this man to communicate. 

I feel that now is the time to say something profound. Instead, let me impart a last humorous anecdote. One day during the last month of my stay I woke up to the hammering sound of a poster being attached to my door (not with nails, mind you, which begs the question of why it was necessary that they make such a racket). It was being put up on the inside of the door, naturally. The uninvited entrance had failed to rouse me as more than commonplace, but this alteration of my accustomed environ, as if friendly scuba joe had one morning been replaced by a gaudy chest of bubbling pirate's gold, struck a hidden reserve of scientific curiousity that I had until that moment thought entirely extinguished by three months of commutative algebra. As soon as I could convince my morning's glory to postpone its trumpeting salute long enough for me to furtively put on some pants in the whole world's barging presence, I moved the door and examined the new emergency instructions. Thus spoke Pozharathustra:

If you find a fire, proceed with the following steps:

1) Notify the fire department and the building commisar.

2) Organize the evacuation of the building.

I will comment only that the burden of social responsibility resting on the observant individual is considerably more weighty in Russia than in some other countries that I know, and I for one am relieved to no longer be living under that kind of constant pressure. 

 

PS - a shout out to maddie for her bravery in flying all the way to Moscow to make my last week awesome.