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Sorry about the lateness, comrades, but I was on a vacation-week's kickoff goblin cavebender this weekend and wasn't checking the commie listserves.
(The Wal-Mart advertisement's real subtle, MSNBC Stooges!)
|Dicey the House Goblin|
I just got a rainbow wheel (one with NBC peacock-tail wedges; nice!) which lasted so long that I never actually watched the the story, so all I can talk about is the headline. But I agree with that headline.
M'lord Dice refuses to even acknowledge the possibility of redistribution of wealth, and while I as a stooge of the plutocracy, certainly can't endorse revolution, I will say this: socialist is no longer such a dirty word. For instance, if I was in the goblin kennels ladling out slops, and I heard two goblins discussing socialism, I would wait to hear what they thought of it, instead of just reporting them right off the bat.
|Comte de Malodor|
Oh, I disagree Comte, and Dicey has it all wrong. As a sovereign noble, I'm a bit of a socialist myself. Within the borders of Demesne Dice, I collect my subject's surplus income (everything) in the form of taxes, and provide whatever services I deem essential (beer) for the good of my demesne.
I love socialism; I'm happy to "collect" every spare cent my subjects manage to scrape from their subsistence farming, and they're happen to drink the beer they make from the grain that's too rotten to sell. It really is a win-win situation!
|Comte de Malodor|
Well, Milord, 'From Each According To His Ability, To Each According To His Need' has always been a motto of mine. We'll draw a veil over a) what I'm able to do and b) what I need to do, but it hasn't involved rotten grain. Yet. Not unless you dressed it up to look like a housemaid.
Still, the redistribution of wealth is very dear to my heart, and the only wealth I possess (apart from a noble name and a sharp sword, which I am always ready to brandish in defence of Mon Roi et Mon Patrie Glorieux De France) is the stupendous contents of my astounding britches, with which I've crammed my Estate full to bursting with little Comtes, as I affectionately call them. Let me know and I'll have half a dozen shipped over to you by the next coach.