> warning !! this text is Not mine. see source
This field, right here, in the middle of nowhere in Russia doesn't look that useful, because it's not.
Nobody, not me, not locals, not tourists, cares about this field.
Anybody that walks through this field, by accident of course, spits on the field, once they realize where they are.
And most animals that wander through here are shunned by their animal friends, and are forced to spend the rest of their lives alone.
Well there's a beautiful spot, just behind those trees, there.
Great for picnics, there's a pond, a couple hiking trails, but that's not right here.
Here, there is none of that.
Only this awful, absolute waste of earth.
Uh, yes, this field here is not good.
Nobody likes this field, there is nothing special about it.
Uh, any children that are caught frolicking in the field are hit with sticks and then sent to Yakutsk for eight months, where they are scolded, and then tied to posts to have—
Where the locals throw rocks at their feet.
It's awful, nobody—
It's h— it's just— It's—
Nobody likes this field.
In the early 20th century, the British army bombed this location on eight separate occasions, stating that just knowing it existed, even though it was 2,000 miles away, was enough to disrupt the sleep of 45% of London's upper class.
But the field is still here.
Why?
Because...
Well, bombing a field just makes it a— a bigger field.
Just looking at it, at that field, a man could lose his faith from that field.
Believe me, if I had to pee, I'd take a pee on this field, right here; I hate it.
But I left my Diet Coke at the hotel, and I don't currently have to pee.
If you ever find yourself here, for whatever reason, stay clear of this field.
It is awful.
Nobody likes it, and if you show up here, nobody will like you either.