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I had heard the picket lines had already come down, but now I guess I should drive up to Manchester.
Comrade Curtin--'S true; I make a lot of sense. Sorry to hear about that shiznit in the PM. To dust off one of my old slogans, "If you don't hate your boss, you're a stooge of the plutocracy!"
Comrade Dwarf--Thank you for the links.
Citizen Scootalol--Just to let you know that there is a big jump in time in the thread between the post you're responding to (three years ago, I think) and when I relaunched the Red Menace thread (last month).
I'll be back with some shameless socialist self-promotion in a bit...
Was off to check out some of the seedier sections of the internet before shower and work and my homepage spat this at me:
"Huh", I thought to myself as I read the headline, "I wonder if Louis Scarcella features in this story?", but he doesn't. Before his time, I guess.
But then I saw another familiar name, Rubin Carter, and thought, "Yeah, I'll link that."
Bomber Bernie has never told me to "shut up," alas (3:30).
So, me, Mr. Comrade, and the Commandant of the Scottish Republican Army drove out to UNH to meet with the Commandant's grade school chum who is also interested in international proletarian socialist revolution. We set up on a sidewalk and after half an hour a UNH cop kicked us out. Freedom of speech, my ass.
Anyway, we went to Bomber Bernie's thing, I can't tell you how crappy the video we had to watch was (apparently, all we need to do is mobilize the power of the mythic American people to make some "Few Small Changes" about money in politics and then everything will be fine). Thankfully, Bomber Bernie's speech was nowhere near that terrible. In fact, Mr. Comrade quipped that it sounded like the first speech by a brand new Commonwealth Party of Galt (M-L) member, except, you know, with no mention of socialism.
Anyway, he didn't say a single thing about foreign policy. Also, after talking about how horrible the Republicrats are, he urged every one to become involved in the political process. During the Q&A, Mr. Comrade took the mic and repeated the party line (run independently, don't run as a Democrat) and asked him who we should all vote for if the Repubs and Dems are so bad. Bernie hemmed and hawed for thirty seconds and then basically said: "Lesser evil, yada, yada, yada, I don't wanna be Ralph Nader and run a useless third party campaign, I'd rather be Dennis Kucinich and run a useless Democratic campaign" [Comrade Anklebiter paraphrase]. The next kid up on the mic after Mr. Comrade gave a speech about "the rule of capital", "the racial caste system" and "direct action against the Keystone pipeline." "Oooh," I said, "Someone give him a paper!" but he turned out to be some kinda anarchist.
Anyway, after Mr. Comrade's turn at the mic, all the members of the NH Left popped out of the audience to shake his hand--Big Will from the Iraq Veterans Against the War (as opposed to Old Will from the Vietnam Veterans Agaist the War), Steve K. from the Carpenter's Union and a guy whose name I don't recall but is the head of the Nashua Library workers union and recently got booted off the Nashua Democratic City Council for refusing to support either Hillary or Israel. "He's gonna f+%*in' run as a Democrat" they all complained, congratulating Mr. Comrade.
Anyway, after the event we handed out Ferguson leaflets and back issues of our newspaper. As I like to say to the comrades, we are the best distributors of free back issues in New England.
Evening turned sour as Big Will told Mr. Comrade about another IVAW activist--I never met him, but Mr. Comrade did--who recently killed himself in despair after Obama relaunched the Iraq War with little-to-no-protest from the American people ("Strike Poverty, Not Syria!").
To lighten the mood, I'll link to the FB page of yet another schizophrenic that we ran into while peddling socialist newspapers.
"My name is Eugene Tillock. By fate alone I am part of a truly amazing coincidence that I discovered in my family tree. My sister married a Chinese man in the year 2000, the year of the new millennium mind you. Originally from the Yellow River region and XI'AN the cradle of civilization in China his family has 4 brothers named Eugene-Stephen-Paul-Michael in that exact order. I Gene am the first of 3 brothers also Eugene-Stephen-Paul and the very next son and first grandson of the next generation is Michael.
"Now what are the odds of this event ever occurring in the natural. correct me if I am wrong space scientists but Eugene(10,000 to 1) times Stephen(1000 to 1) times Paul(1000 to 1) times Michael(100 to 1) times the odds that any two people especially these two from polar opposite ends of the earth CHINA and AMERICLE would wed(1 BILLION to 1) equals a BILLION TRILLION TO 1 or 1,000,000,000,000,000,000,000 to 1 LONG SHOT. The coincidences if you want to call them that only gein with this and are truly mind-boggling and enlightening to say the very least. What does it all mean? Who sent me? Why did this all happen? Where does it go from me? When will it all happen??? China (Syndrome) are you listening!!!!"
He was distributing this leaflet and even gave the last one to the Commandant's UNH schoolchum because "you're Asian," although, sadly, not Chinese.
Is it the pickle thieves from Thistletop? Because those were some righteous goblins. In fact, when I ran Rise of the Runeplutocrats we had a TPK at Thistletop and that was the end of that campaign.
Or is it something else?
Two amusing bits on Michelle Alexander before I get ready to go troll Bomber Bernie:
1) I laughed in her introduction where she wrote
I first encountered the idea of a new racial caste system more than a decade ago [late eighties, I'm guessing], when a bright orange poster caught my eye. I was rushing to catch the bus, and I noticed a sign stapled to a telephone pole that screamed in large bold print: THE DRUG WAR IS THE NEW JIM CROW. I paused for a moment and skimmed the text of the flyer. Some radical group was holding a community meeting about police brutality, the new three-strikes law in California, and the expansion of America's prison system. The meeting was being held at a small community church a few blocks away; it had seating capacity for no more than fifty people. I sighed, and muttered to myself something like, "Yeah, the criminal justice system is racist in so many ways, but it really doesn't help to make such an absurd comparison. People will just think you're crazy." I then crossed the street and hopped on the bus. I was headed to my new job, director of the Racial Justice Project of the American Civil Liberties Union (ACLU) in Northern California."
Hmmm, what made her change her mind? Read the book to find out, pinkskins!
Anyway, on behalf of crazy radicals meeting in low-capacity community churches everywhere:
Vive le Galt!
2) From what I understand, but I could be wrong, I'm not in the loop, Ms. Alexander is married to a federal prosecutor.
A comrade of mine is a member of the New York UFT local. The UFT endorsed Sharpton's march against police brutality in the wake of the killing of Eric Garner, which, apparently, provoked quite a storm of outrage among New Yorkers in general, and the rank-and-file in particular.
Anyway, a lot of her co-workers gave her crap along the lines of "Why are you so anti-cop? My brother-in-law is a police officer, he's a good guy, why are we going to an anti-cop march?" To which she responded, "This is a march against police brutality. If, in your mind, anti-police brutality equals anti-police, which of us has the lower opinion of police officers?"
Which was clever, I thought.
Durngrun Stonebreaker wrote:
Oh, I don't know, "bad cops sent to jail" can enrage us lefties, too.
Michael Brock wrote:
Nor am I interested in arguing with you, sir. I don't remember the rest of what I wrote last night, but I do recall it ended with a link to Why Cops Lie by former SF Police Commissioner Peter Keane.
So, I've been listening to Lightnin's Hello Central: The Best of Lightnin' Hopkins at work and I don't think I've ever heard of a worse lover in all my life. Every song he's either complaining that he has no idea why his woman's mad at him, or else, he's threatening to take away her wig.
Hmm. Well, we've played two and a half times since last I posted. Last game was a bit of a miscommunication, actually, so ended up being whipped up on the spot. But, I probably won't get to that for another month, so, nevermind...
Kingpinmaker, Game N+3, Part Three
Rest of the game was pretty much all role-playing with a brief, disastrous, combat at the end. In no particular order, and, possibly leaving somethings out:
Some of the party went and "manumitted" their slaves. They figured that it would best if all of the ex-slaves had proper papers, so Esmerelda spent a bunch of time (back on The Whale, I think) forging papers for each of them, including poor Toby.
Some of the party went to the Town Hall/Church of Asmodeus, where they stood in line for hours, filled out forms in triplicate, waited in more line, waited in wrong lines, and, finally, insult to injury, were forced to attend a "counseling" session with an Asmodean priest before they were allowed to free their slaves.
Party went and met with Brucks, their intermediary with Mister Scratch. As soon as he saw them, he got very excited and quickly performed a series of ritualistic movements that ended with the lighting of a scented candle, which freaked the party out because they thought he had cast zone of truth. They reported success, Mack Daddy's dead, we've got a map of all his hideouts and strongholds in town (Symoreel had made that back on the boat, with the help of all the slaves), we can totally kick their ass if we strike before they find out the Mack Daddy's dead!!!, We might have sunk your boat. Brucks was thilled and they made arrangements to meet in a couple of days' time and coordinate their attacks to wipe out the last remnants of the MD's criminal empire.
At this point, Genny gave an impassioned speech to Brucks, I don't remember all of it, but the gist was that after this, Genny and Chyme would be moving out of the drug trade. Brucks laughed and ominously intoned "We already have an arrangement with your brother..."
Brother Makao went to the chruch of Iomedae and did some chores. Giles went and scoped out the Abandoned Clocktower, which was across the street from the church. Saw a suspicious character reading a newspaper and drinking an espresso at an outdoor table. Brother Makao, was summoned by a shrieking child complaining of being bullied by "the Misshapen One." Newspaper Man followed him. Giles followed him. Brother Makao didn't find the Misshapen One, but go in a fight with a thief posing as a blind pencil seller and his two accomplices. Other stuff, not very important, but keep an eye on that Newspaper Man.
At some point in all of this Esmerelda was spotted by her bohemian friends who were hanging out with the rebellious daughters of the High Priest of Asmodeus. She found out from them that there were a bunch of Hellknights in town.
Genny stopped by the Academy of Applied Magic and was disappointed to discover that her pistol that can create a rift between this plane and Hell once per day wasn't done, and, in fact, couldn't be done without another spell. Said "f~#% it" and took her gun back.
Barbie, I now recall, didn't go to Pezzack, she stayed at Foxglove Manor and went and bought a dog, an Andoran wolfhound (+2 Str +2 Dex +2 Con) which she presented to Jillian which she named "Toby."
Two more bits to go to the end of this session, but I'll finish tomorrow. I'm pretty beat. Did me some overtime today, huzzah!
Also, Citizen LEPLEY, if for some odd reason you don't like communist propaganda with your discussion of fantasy role-playing games, there is a little symbol--a slashed zero--to the right of every thread, and if you click on it, the politroll threads will disappear!
Well, unfortunately, not all of them. You have to click on each one individually, which, I hear from other politroll-thread haters, is a hassle. :(
Good news, Vlad, if you're out there:
Although 36 hours a week sounds pretty high to me.
30 for 40 with No Loss in Pay!
Vive le Galt!!!
Kinda torn about rather to post here or in my commie thread, but, as a commie, I like to share:
Back to UPS: The Black Goblin tells me that he is working with a new hire, a Hispanic gentlemen with the given name "Stalin." This has, apparently, led to a great deal of merriment for the Black Goblin.
Black Goblin's boss: "Go tell Stalin to report to the 128 door."
Black Goblin: "Man, you don't tell Stalin anything; Stalin tells you!"
Man, sometimes I wish I was still a steward.
So, as the article above details, my blessed employer is hiring twice as much seasonal help as last year. Apparently, we didn't do a very good job last year. Pfft, whatever.
Anyway, they hired a nebbish a couple of days ago, overweight, bespectacled, I saw his personnel file on it he talked about his love of video games and toys. All my Teamster brothers and sisters, of course, made jokes about him behind his back.
I've had occasion to mention before that I have a weakness for strays and outcasts. So, I tried to take him under my wing a little bit, give him some tips, etc.
Anyway, I kept hearing my brothers and sisters say that the supes were gonna lay him off. And even though they told jokes at his expense, I am proud to say that they mostly had the right reaction: "F@$@ management! They're gonna hire some fat nerd kid and not train him to do his job and then he doesn't do a good job? Woah, who woulda thunk, huh? F##@ing morons." Etc., etc.
Today, in the middle of the shift, I had to go get a new ink cartridge for my scanner and as I was getting close to the office I saw my full-time supervisor escorting the kid out of the building. I walked into the office and saw my part-time supervisor. For some reason, he asked me "Doodlebug, do you have any children?" "No," I replied, "I don't have any kids. Do you?" "Yeah, I've got a new son," he beamed. "Yeah, well one day your son is gonna grow up to be a fat nerd and he's gonna get hired somewhere and they're not going to train him properly and three days later they're gonna fire him." He tried talking some shiznit, but then I yelled "Vive le Galt!" and punched him in the face.
Yeah, that's right, pinkskins, we've got your cartoons and we ain't givin' 'em back unless you meet our demands.
Demand #1) Communism.
Demand #2) Wind turbines.
Demand #3) A lifetime supply of kosher dill pickles for me and mangoes for my best bud, Comrade Dingo.
Demand #4) Citizen K(e)rensky as our personal manservant.
All your cartoons are belong to us!
Just as it was very gratifying to be summoned by a complete stranger in that video games thread, it is very, very pleasing indeed to be mentioned side by side with Yellowdingo. Huzzah!