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First impression I · 27 September 2004
At one end of my street in what was once a pasture is a great campus of civil servitude, a vast acreage of beaurocracy comprising statisticians, economists and health administrators who occupy the grayest government buildings I have ever seen. At noon I see some of them walking forcefully up the sidewalk—lone bearded men, small packs of women in unpatterned dresses, identity cards flashing around their necks.
At the other end of my street is a store called “House of Staplers.”
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