Атлант расправил плечи
The Aristocracy of pull
"It’stoobadaboutthoseprofiteersonReardenMetal.Youwouldn’twantthemtolosethemoneyyoumadeforthem,wouldyou,Mr.Rearden?Butaccidentsdohappenintheworld—youknowwhattheysay,manisonlyahelplessplaythingatthemercyofnature’sdisasters.Forinstance,therewasafireatthed’AnconiaoredocksinValparaisotomorrowmorning,afirethatrazedthemtothegroundalongwithhalfoftheportstructures.Whattimeisit,Mr.Rearden?Oh,didImixmytenses?Tomorrowafternoon,therewillbearockslideinthed’AnconiaminesatOrano—noliveslost,nocasualties,excepttheminesthemselves.Itwillbefoundthattheminesaredonefor,becausetheyhadbeenworkedinthewrongplacesformonths—whatcanyouexpectfromaplayboy’smanagement?ThegreatdepositsofcopperwillbeburiedundertonsofmountainwhereaSebastiand’Anconiawouldnotbeabletoreclaimtheminlessthanthreeyears,andaPeople’sStatewillneverreclaimthematall.Whenthestockholdersbegintolookintothings,theywillfindthattheminesatCampos,atSanFelix,atLasHerashavebeenworkedinexactlythesamemannerandhavebeenrunningatalossforoverayear,onlytheplayboyjuggledthebooksandkeptitoutofthenewspapers.
