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Weather forecast looks likes it's going to snow tomorrow, which would make moving The Black Goblin's Pregnant Libertarian Dreadlocked Girlfriend difficult. Maybe I can squeeze out another day in Brooklyn?
I already helped The Black Goblin move his new gun safes into the Free NH Goblin Resistance Hideout, soon to be renamed something more domestic. Gun safes, it turns out, like everything else have brand names. One was dubbed "Revolution" and the other was "The Ammo Can."
"What is that?" I quipped in between exertions, "The title of the biopic they're gonna make about your life?"
[Hollywood trailer narrator voice]
"He was an anarcho-syndicalist Teamster, she was a Ron Paul-voting welder; together their love was going to overthrow the government! Coming this April to a theater near you, Revolution and the Ammo Can!
Hmmm. Well, I had a busy week of commie furlough planned, but I've noticed La Principessa's tendency towards emotional breakdowns every 72 hours or so can make maintaining schedules difficult.
Spent a lot of time helping La Principessa with her article on the UE strike and her "lead-off" on the labor movement for her weekly Branch Meeting. Had fun at the latter, talked commie talk, sold some books, squabbled, had Mexican. Found editing La Principessa to be an interesting experience. I secretly fancy myself a better writer than her, but she's got a Master's in English and is very stubborn. She kept putting back all the weak wordings (language-wise, not commie-) that I had struck (??--stricken? Hey, I didn't say I was a great writer!).
Did a paper sale on Saturday in a Queens Metro station. I sold five papers in an hour. The whole branch can go a couple of months before we sell five in New Hampshire! Man, I love cities!
Then, last three nights in a row, boom! She keeps having bad days, so I blow off commie plans to hang around the house, smoke weed and have sex. It's a real drag, lemme tell ya. And what can make La Principessa have a bad day? You name it--a stern lecture from her vice-principal, a tense UFT delegate assembly, my not having enough orgasms (she speculated that her ratio of climaxes to mine is 8:1, he modestly added). Like I said, a drag. On the plus, though, my cooking's getting better, I've gotten a bit of reading done and I've listened to a lot of Gong.
Planning for a myriad of life-changing possibilities, none of which allow me to keep my voluminous library intact, I have decided to model myself after Harvey Pekar and peddle my books at Branch Meetings.
This week I sold:
The Struggle for a Proletarian Party by James P. Cannon
the proceeds of which I thereupon spent at a Mexican restaurant on frozen strawberry margaritas.
I also gave a beat-up thirties hardback of Victor Serge's Russia: 20 Years Later to a dear comrade of La Principessa's that I had outrageously priced at $12, mostly, I think, in hopes of dissuading people from buying it.
In fact, I'm kind of pissed about losing all of them. Why couldn't people buy Capital Vols. II and III instead?
Anyway, in my own reading I have settled on , The Interesting Narrative of the Life of Olaudah Equiano, or Gustavus Vassa, the African. Written by Himself.
Turned the voluntary three-day furlough into a voluntary five-day furlough. Would have made it six, but I noticed a woman with less seniority had requested next Thursday off.
"Oh, go ahead, Doodlebug, I was kind of torn. I had already decided I wasn't going to take any more time off, but, then, you know..."
"Yeah. But if you want it, go ahead."
"No, no, no, [XXXX]. I'm not going to bump you. I'll just wait until then and then I'll call out. Why should I take your day off when we can both take the day off?"
Comrade Anklebiter wrote:
NYT article that came up in my Facebook feed and was more interesting when the headline read:
To go along with my finishing reading The Origin of Private Property, the Family and the State:
A commie article randomly spit out when I google searched "punaluan family,"
a long talk about
by a Britishiznoid SWPer (and for us commie watchers, that's a little loaded with irony) and, finally,
a talk by 16-year-old NJ High School Student Comrade. What were you doing when you were 16? Sniffing glue and playing Dungeons and Dragons, I bet.
[Restores democratic centralist discipline]
And, for fun,
48 hours of fighting with La Principessa led to tearful reconciliations and mutually amazing phone sex. Relationships are weird.
Anyway, anti-Scott Walker demo was a bit lackluster. 300 or so New England trade unionists marching in a quiet picket line. Lowell carpenter dude tries chanting, cops come out and tell us to be quiet because there are kids in the high school taking their SATs. Apparently, Scott Walker was kicking off his presidential campaign by whispering. Highlight was a Hispanic trade unionist who, everytime we passed him on the picket line, would shout out "Viva Fidel!" or "Che lives!" Was a little disappointed that my sign was the only one that drew the connection between Walker's assault on the unions and the police killing of Tony Robinson, but, whatever.
Later that night, went to a CAJE vegetarian dinner/meeting at a professor's beautiful loft apartment in Lowell. She had contacted Mr. Comrade for the first Lowell demo to see if her daughter could give a speech to fulfill a requirement for her bat mitzvah. Until they showed up, Mr. Comrade had no idea it was one of his professors from the previous semester.
Anyway, nice meeting with two working class black women, a (wicked hawt) Nigerian student, two lesbians, an anarcho-syndicalist and three dirty commies, kicked off by a havdalah and ended with the professor's daughters' "Smurf cake."
Activism is fun.
Older one making the rounds due to the impending Scott Walker visit to my fair state:
Damn it, the suspense is killing me! Was he good for nuthin' or wasn't he?
Actually, even if he wasn't he was. I mean, if he was really good for somethin', he would have been channelling the sites of CIA weapon drops to Nicaraguan contras and Afghan proto-al Qaedans to the KGB instead of deregulating trucking decimating the Teamsters.
Ahh, it was in the Books Thread.
A few others that failed to persuade La Principessa (man, she's stubborn):
Only three months? That's not so bad!
Four years is quite impressive, Comrade Fergie, and I bow to your inspection avoidance-fu.
I was less concerned about it in years past when I was going to work at two in the morning and only had to worry about the ride home. Now, with Daylights Savings, I have to worry about it both ways. Also, it's affecting my ability to do political work. For example, I don't want to drive to Concord to protest Scott Walker and leave my car on the side of the street for a couple of hours.
EDIT: Oh, also, I've had a copy of The Best of Abbie Hoffman since my teen years. Here in NH we've recently befriended an elderly Jewish man from Brooklyn who claims he was in the Yippies back in the day.
Anyway, fighting with La Principessa about Abraham Lincoln on Facebook. Where's that article about Marx and the Civil War? Hmmm...
It's possible. Hopefully, though, I will be moving to New York soon(ish) and will never need a car again. Also, my father gave it to me. Also also, it has a cassette player and it allows me to tape my records and listen to them while driving around. Otherwise, I'd never get to listen to my albums.
Thank you for the advice on personal finance, though.
Anatole France quote about sleeping under bridges comes to mind.
Lessee, any commie articles worth posting?
Well, that's not a commie article, but, thanks to La Principessa, I've recently met quite a few UFT lefties
Almost every one of these paragraphs listing the Islamic Republic of Iran's crimes makes me have to back up and make sure I'm reading about Iran.
Anyway, not a big fan of the ayatollahs, but, given the chance, I'd totally sell state secrets to Obama's latest bogeyman, Venezuela.
Well, actually, I'd probably just give them away for free.
Now, THAT'S the kind of treason I can get behind!
[Watches The Falcon and the Snowman]
Oh yeah, I forgot, La Principessa's parents retired out in Madison, Wisconsin. She called her father--who did some work in Texas during the later year of the Civil Rights Movement (apparently he's got stories about being chased by the Klan) and later did pro bono police brutality cases in NYC (for which he was awarded some honor by the Bar Association)--for his birthday and asked him if he had been going to any of the demonstrations in the wake of the killing of Tony Robinson. He said he had and La Principessa, excited to have something to bond with her father about, asked him how it was.
"It was depressing, Check" (they call her "Check") "It was really depressing. Here it is forty, fifty years later, and I'm still going to these f$+~ing things."
I hope so.
In commie news, lessee...while I was in Brooklyn our NH branch, in coalition with the Black Lives Matter activists and the local 350 activists, have apparently launched a group called Community Activists for Justice and Equality whose acronym, of course, is CAJE. "The system is a caje" etc., etc. [Shudders] Don't blame me comrades, I was in New York. Anyway, cynical hispter negativity aside, while I was gone they held a public meeting (30 or so attendees), a film showing on International Women's Day (again, 30 or so attendees), on Monday, while I was dilly-dallying about, kissing La Principessa good bye before the long trek back, and held a rally outside a courthouse against the New Jim Crow and in solidarity with some black kid who was being unfairly railroaded for something or other (I've been out of the loop, alas).
This weekend we've got a rally against visiting Gov. Scott Walker in Concord that should bring out all the leftie-labor types and then back to Lowell for another CAJE meeting, although I might have to help The Black Goblin move his Pregnant Dreadlocked Libertarian Ex-Welder Girlfriend into the Free NH Goblin Resistance Hideout. 'Tis truly the end of an era, comrades. (Links to come later, maybe.)
In completely other news, my Independent Red Maoist-Inclined Historian Rival for La Principessa's Affections (Since Vanquished) had a review published in a commie journal and he Tagged me in his Facebook post, so etiquette demanded that I say I'd read it soon, so I'm posting it here so that I'll remember to do so:
It may interest the comrades to know that "Enaa" is the name of one of his Dungeons and Dragons characters.
Nerds of the world, unite!
Struck shop was right around the corner from La Principessa's school. Had a nice time familiarizing myself with New York's labor activists, then marched through Brooklyn, called La Principessa and she ran outside to hold hands and take pictures. God, I love that woman.
Hung out with a young machinist comrade from Pittsburgh who was disgusted. "This is what they call a labor action?!? They pretend to picket and then the cops pretend to break the strike?!? Where are the mass pickets lines that no one dare cross?!?" God, I love that man.
Afterwards we all chatted and then La Principessa went back to work and we went to a Dunkin Donuts. While there, I receive the following text:
"Hey. Thanks for getting me today. Can we talk later? I'm kind of uncomfortable with you calling me 'baby' in front of other people."
I text back, "Can we skip the talk and just get to the part where I apologize for infantilizing you?" and make a mental note to complain about it on Paizo.com.
[Shakes head in exasperation]
Comrade Anklebiter's Commie Vacation Thus Far:
Got in Thursday afternoon. Had to deal with La Principessa's depression for a while, then went to her Guatemalan from East Boston Anarcho-Syndicalist Playwright friend's girlfriend's Soup and Art Night (which he renamed Stupid Art Night). She worked on making banya caps; I just drank and ate butternut squash soup until the GfEBA-SPF'sG gave me an "Existentialist Coloring Book" and worked on the page devoted to Jean-Paul Sartre, Intrnet Troll's catchphrase ("Hell is other posters!).
Friday was more depression, some really hawt sex, then a very frustrating evening waiting in Barnes and Noble while she met with another comrade to go over her presentation on the labor movement centered on the UE strike at Weir Valve. Followed by more frustration as we went over her single mother friend's house and they got to talk politics while I had to babysit a hyperactive, ADD-diagnosed seven-year-old who kept farting on me and wouldn't let me play on his keyboard. :(
Saturday we went to the Newark rally organized by our 16-year-old New Jersey high school student comrade. Afterwards, we went to some bbq restaurant where I kept trying convince the hyperactive seven-year-old of the existence of trolls, ogres, and that the upcoming blood moon was a harbinger of the opening of the gates to the fairy realms. Later, on the ride home, I tried to convince him that the delta blues singers on the radio were centaurs. La Principessa kept telling me to cut it out in deference to the communist atheism of the boy's mother, but I protested "If you can't lie to children, then who can you lie to?" and denounced her bourgeois modernity. The boy's mother seemed to think it was funny. Anyway, then we got home and smoked the last of my [bubble bubble bubble] and had even hawtter sex. Twice.
Sunday, we went to the Day School. I was pretty excited because the latest Member's Bulletin had a long document about Black Liberation and Socialist Revolution that discussed Richard S. Fraser (a fave my old comrades) and I was looking forward to some real commie talk, but La Principessa got ill after the first two hours, so we skeddadled, had some Thai food on the offchance that she just needed to eat something, no such luck, so then I got to do my first NYC driving as we listened to a Patsy Cline hour on some college radio station. Then we watched a lot of bad SNL and Snowpiercer which she thought was terrible, but I thought was watchable enough for a Chris Evans movie.
Meanwhile, back in New England, I'm getting updates on our Black Lives Matter coalition work in Lowell. Expect more posts on the future, but in the meantime, I've still got a whole week to spend in this city with little to do. I think there's a branch meeting in Brooklyn tomorrow, a visit to a car wash strike on Wednesday, maybe meet up with a former IBEW steward turned CWA organizer who's Facebook friends with some of my NH labor contacts, meet up with Comrades Freehold and Healer hopefully, but other than that, got little planned. Maybe some more hawt sex. We'll see.