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The Neo-Comintern 117

eZine's profile picture
Published in 
The Neo Comintern
 · 5 years ago

  

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installment number 117 $$
August 8th, 2000 $$
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Editor: The Capitalism Monster
Writer/Slave: BMC

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Featured in this installment

Giving Saul A Raise - BMC
Ask an expert: Farming- BMC


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MONSTER'S NOTE

This week's issue of the Weekly Capitalist addresses some serious
issues. First of all, how do we deal with that pesky problem of
proletariats and their constant demand for fair wages? I really wanted a
story that would capture the reality of this ridiculous idea and what
exactly a capitalist should do when faced with a situation such as a worker
demanding a raise. I explained my ideas at length to BMC - he just couldn't
seem to get it right. I must say though, with my firm leadership, the
article finally turned out and I'm proud to present it to you.

Speaking of firm leadership, I had a little incident the other day
that I would like to take this opportunity to discuss with you. This week I
had the misfortune of running into some freak who was presumptuous enough to
attack my lifestyle and principals. The encounter pretty much consisted of
myself standing on the corner in my expensive and intimidating suit while
the imposter cowered meekly a few feet away sniveling insults. The young
lad ended his indictment with something to the effect of "you ought to be
ashamed of yourself" and then he promptly broke down in tears. Of course, I
immediately had him brutally tortured and disposed of for his intolerable
behavior but I haven't been able to get rid of the thought of him as easily
as I did his mortal spirit.

Now this "socialist," as he liked to call himself, accused me of
taking away the liberty and equality that is owed to each and every person
on earth. He berated me for stripping the dignity of the working masses by
paying them less than enough to provide their families with the necessities
of life. He scolded me for placing dollar amounts on human life and buying
and selling souls as if they were only as useful as their market value. To
all this I could only reply, "So, what's your point?"

You see, the corporate ladder is as natural as the food chain my
friends, and I see no need to feel guilty about living my life the way God
intended. Just like within the food chain, in society there are those who
are big and powerful (here read better and more deserving) and there are
those who are small and meek (here read lazy and stupid). Is it any wonder
that I advocate a system where those with power devour those without? It is
as instinctive as breathing and I assure you, also as necessary, for it is
the only way to have a truly wealthy and successful society.

Now, I know that in spite of the obvious truth of this world order,
it is still illegal to exploit the workers as we would all love to. If only
we could kill and eat the insolent poor, they might actually be useful for
something. Of course, I must clarify that I didn't really put that boy from
the other day to death, I just subjected him to working in one of my many
underground mines for minimum wage, which I figure is as close to actual
death as it gets. In spite of these restrictions, I must admit that all
the fun has not been taken out of controlling the means of production. I
think you'll see what I mean as you read "Giving Saul a Raise."

The last article in this week's issue discusses the growing
controversy over farming and what should be done about it. I think every
reader will enjoy BMC's unique perspective on this crisis. His innovative
methods of dealing with the problem are truly food for thought.


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This week our sponsor is a site that has invested in us over the years and
given us tonnes of financial support. I'm talking about Y'know Inc.
Productions <http://www.yip.org>, a subsidiary of Coca-Cola. Back in the
days before they got bought out they were called "irreverent and quirky" by
every unimaginitive and unoriginal reviewer in the world, but now that
they've been censored we can safely promote them. Keep it right-wing, keep
it YIP.

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GIVING SAUL A RAISE
by BMC

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"So why should I give you a raise anyway, Saul?" I asked.

He responded, "My name isn't Saul, it's Paul."

"I'll have no more of your insubordination, Saul. This is one
strike against you," I threatened. Paul was furious, but he suppressed it
as well as he could. This made me smile, but I suppressed that as well as I
could too. "These are the moments that life is all about," I thought to
myself.

"So SAUL," I said, emphasizing the name in an attempt to make him
blow up at me, "why should I give you a raise? What have you done to earn
it?"

He attempted to speak calmly and was nearly completely successful.
His only slip was that he could barely unclench his teeth to form proper
sounds. "Well," he said slowly, "I am a hard, smart worker and you will
never find better."

I replied, "Well better is a subjective word, and I don't like it
when people have opinions. Let's say I couldn't find a better worker than
you but I could find two workers who would work for half of the amount you
are getting paid now. Would that be better? I think so." Paul looked
upset. He broke down a bit and it looked like he could cry soon.

"Saul, what do you like to do when you're not working?" I asked.

He looked happy that I was concerned with his well-being. "Well,"
he replied, "I like to..."

"I believe I've heard enough," I interjected. Paul was very
confused. "Saul, there are two types of men in the world. There are those
who are satisfied with their jobs, and there are those who look for
satisfaction outside of work. Let me be honest. I don't mind the latter
kind of man, in fact I used to have friends who were like that back when I
was a small child. Do you know what, though? Those children who couldn't
devote their lives to work eventually became union leaders and were killed
by the mafia, AKA capitalism, AKA me. Now I'm not saying I'm going to kill
you, all I'm saying is that you better watch yourself because you've only
got one strike left and you still haven't convinced me why I shouldn't fire
you right now."

"But all I wanted was a raise," he sobbed. Yes, he was in tears
now. I was glad that he appreciated my threat and happy to know that it
wasn't too subtle. I let him cry for a few minutes while cutting and
lighting a sixty dollar cigar.

"You know what, Saul?" I asked. He was lying on the ground with his
body curled up in a ball. "I like your attitude. I think I'm going to give
you that raise after all."

He stopped convulsing in self pity and looked up at me with a faint
glow of hope in his eyes. He was about to say, "Really?" and smile, but I
cut him off in mid thought.

"...on one condition," I added to my prior sentence.

"Anything, anything!" he gasped.

I took a deep inhalation from my cigar and blew it in his face.
"You gotta shit your pants right now and right in front of me," I said.

He must have thought I was joking, but at this moment all expression
was gone from my face but a look of menacing seriousness. Paul closed his
eyes and clenched his teeth as his intestine contracted and expanded. He
looked at the floor, all dignity removed from his face.

"Look at me," I said to him. "Now Saul," I continued as he
attempted to make contact with my eyes through his watery orbs, "you can go
and tell your precious mother that you're making an extra dollar."

I grabbed him by the hair and put extinguished my cigar butt on his
forehead. "Now get the hell out of here and get back to work."

"Yes dad," he sobbed, and walked out of the kitchen and into the
backyard. Our lawn has never been mowed more efficiently before or since
then.


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ASK AN EXPERT: FARMING
by BMC

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"BMC, I'm a farmer and I'm having trouble surviving because of
artificially depressed grain prices. Can you give me some advice?" -D.K.

Fucken farmers. They're always whining and complaining and shit like "Boo
hoo my grain isn't growing good enough" or "I'm sad because there is a big
hole in the road and I'm too fucken stupid to know that it's safer to gravel
'em over." Well your gay pussy woman words are lost on my sympathies, cause
if you're not gonna fix shit yourself you're not worth my time (except of
course to write this article that mocks you and hopefully makes you commit
suicide so we have one less welfare case in this province).

So wot I'm trying to say is that if farmers want so much more money they
should grow up and stop treating me and my capitalist friends like their
parents. I haven't impregnated anyone last time I checked so I'm not handing
out allowance to anyone but my woman who can't earn money because her duty
consists of mopping the floor and cooking my fukking food. If the farmers
want money they will have to be my servants too. One farmer could come and
shine my fuckin shoes right now because they're looking a bit dull.

"Boo fukcin hoo BMC, beef prices aren't high enough and we're losing money
on cows." Well who gives a fuck? If you need more money then fucken work
harder or shut the fuck up and get the fuck out of my face. Jesus fucking
Christ you fucking dirty drunk fat lazy farmer, get the fuck up off your
fukin ass and do something worthwhile in society, cause I'm sick of having
to support worthless inbred hick sheep-fucking faggots like you. Want my
solution to low grain prices, asshole? Stop growing grain and get the fuck
out of this province because you're not fuken worth the gluten in my bred.


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___________________________________________________
|THE COMINTERN IS AVAILIABLE ON THE FOLLOWING BBS'S |
|~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~|
| BRING ON THE NIGHT (306) 373-4218 |
| CLUB PARADISE (306) 978-2542 |
| THE GATEWAY THROUGH TIME (306) 373-9778 |
|___________________________________________________|
| Website at: http://members.home.com/comintern |
| Email BMC at: thebmc@home.com |
|___________________________________________________|

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Copyright 2000 by The Neo-Comintern #117-08/08/00

All content is property of The Neo-Comintern/Weekly Capitalist.
You may redistribute this document, although no fee can be charged and the
content must not be altered or modified in any way. Unauthorized use of any
part of this document is prohibited. All rights reserved. Made in Canada.

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