The Good Gulag 1


The people had been warned that major changes were afoot in America.  But they’d voted for it all,  to the dismay of the other half of the voters, who believed that their programs and party had the best policies.  The words ‘labor camp’ were evocative and hinted at the dark and foreboding, so the words ‘good gulag’ were used instead by the new administration, in an attempt at wry humor.  Most Americans didn’t even know what a ‘gulag’ was. The inmates did though.  They were all issued copies of ‘The Gulag Archipelago’, along with their toothbrushes and garments, at intake and orientation sessions.

The former Madame Speaker was tired and frustrated as she slowly spun the crank of the old-time ice cream maker machine.  Her attire was not what she was accustomed to, and the food in the cafeteria was reminiscent of meals she remembered from grade school.  The mattress she slept on was too hard for her comfort.  And to add insult to injury,  she was certain there were bedbugs keeping her company at night.  She cried out “It’s not fair!  I served my country for decades, and this is what I get?  It’s just not fair.”

An associate inmate hauling ice and milk to facilitate the ice cream making process called out to her, “Madame Speaker, spin the crank faster. We’ll need 20 gallons of Chunky Delight tonight for the showing of Dr Strangelove in the theatre.”

A former liberal progressive senator from New York walked past carrying 5 gallon buckets of rock, on his way to a distant building site.  He yelled, “Madame Secretary, good to see you this morning.  How many more months in your sentence?  I only have 6 more to go before release.”

She responded, “I have 9 months left, and I’m not sure I’ll survive Chuck.  At least we’re allowed ice cream and weekly showers.  There is that.  I try to keep my chin up.”

Chuck replied, “The scuttlebutt was that the Don was so enraged by your smirking and tearing up his state of the union speech behind his back, that he lobbied the retribution committee for additional time on your sentence.”

“I couldn’t help myself Chuck. I’ve always detested the man, and lost control. I knew it was wrong, but something came over me.”

” I havn’t lost my empathy for you ma’am. Have a nice day Madame Speaker, I must deliver this load of rock.”

The realities of the good gulag were that important infrastructure projects were being completed ahead of schedule in America, because the camps were filled with laboring offenders from all walks of life.  Rich, poor, marginalized or otherwise, blonde or brunette, chunky or buff, there was a place for all miscreants in the camp. 

“Have you noticed that our dorm is primarily comprised of lawyer inmates?” the disgraced former presidential candidate asked her companions on the road crew filling potholes in the road leading to the quarry.  “It’s as if great thought was given to the nature of our incarceration.”

The former press secretary answered, “It’s my understanding that the committee for retribution spent long hours developing a plan which would both elegantly punish us, while at the same time serve as warning to the free citizens.  I’ve been forced to attend seminars relating to public speech techniques, with an emphasis on accuracy in language use, and minimization of subversive and manipulative posturing.  My instructors are all incarcerated Ivy league educators who called Israel to task over the Palestinian problem.  I’ve been learning alot.”

“It should have been me in the oval office.  Hear me when I say, it should have been me!”  the disgraced former candidate opined.  She then broke down in tears and ladled up some hot asphalt.  A tar machine burped and followed behind the work crew.  The road was looking good.

CP Butchvarov  2024