Capitalism is on its knees as Communists emerge from under the bed
March 20th 2009 00:56
Communists, years spent under the bed, are steadily emerging from the bedroom with harrowing accounts of the nocturnal activities of those who own the means of production.
"I've seen the machinery and believe me you wouldn't believe how it works. Needless to say, it's a lot of pumping and grinding. I don't see how I could join such a union," one traumatised Communist recounted to the missus.
"I bet you didn't know that the bosses and the church oppose such unions?" the seething missus, a million tiny faces and hands, wagered.
"They don't want you on the job without their strict guidance. In other words, you don't own the means of producton," she added and subtracted.
"You see, they want you to produce a lot so there is never a shortage of resources they can have down the pit," she said, digging a little deeper.
"In the glory days of the Capitalist machine, when our kids were being sent down the pit, and people were sent down under for stealing a loaf of bread, I forgot what I was going to say," she retorted.
"Let's not kid ourselves. We should join a union in the hope that we can produce what is of value. Written articles with relevant photographs with credited sources that attract appropriate advertisements," she beseeched.
The Communist, returning to bed, turned the light off and kissed the means of production good night before turning in his comrades for the evening.
"I've seen the machinery and believe me you wouldn't believe how it works. Needless to say, it's a lot of pumping and grinding. I don't see how I could join such a union," one traumatised Communist recounted to the missus.
"I bet you didn't know that the bosses and the church oppose such unions?" the seething missus, a million tiny faces and hands, wagered.
"They don't want you on the job without their strict guidance. In other words, you don't own the means of producton," she added and subtracted.
"You see, they want you to produce a lot so there is never a shortage of resources they can have down the pit," she said, digging a little deeper.
"In the glory days of the Capitalist machine, when our kids were being sent down the pit, and people were sent down under for stealing a loaf of bread, I forgot what I was going to say," she retorted.
"Let's not kid ourselves. We should join a union in the hope that we can produce what is of value. Written articles with relevant photographs with credited sources that attract appropriate advertisements," she beseeched.
The Communist, returning to bed, turned the light off and kissed the means of production good night before turning in his comrades for the evening.
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