After the howling for their heads had subsided, the fate of our petit bourgeois visitors was voted on by the strike committee, which--demonstrating the wisdom workers habitually display when given the luxury of reasoned deliberation--determined that we would have their heads in a more effective and revolutionary way. It was decided that these young tourists be offered a close up introduction to a factory being operated under the highest principles of socialism; which is to say, a factory under the ownership and control of labor. Along with two other very articulate guides, I personally escorted them to the school where the children of the workers were at last being taught about the world as it really is, in a room heated by a coal fire, outfitted with proper desks and chairs, and equipped--wonder of wonders!--with actual books. We toured the commissary, where untainted food was distributed according to need, and the infirmary, where the health needs of the workers and their families were attended to without charge, by a heroic doctor from the town. At last we passed across the workfloor, where workers were to be seen sitting upright and proud at their looms, tirelessly and dexterously weaving their magic, energized and inspired by the knowledge that for the first time the value of their labor was not being stolen from them. When our educational sojourn had reached its end, we bade our new friends farewell at the gates to the plant, asking of them only that when they returned to their world of privilege, they spread the truth about our enterprise. Not the truth filtered by their prejudice and predilections, be they leftist or rightest, but the truth unvarnished, as they had so recently seen it, with their own eyes.
Posted on: Tue, 18 Nov 2014 16:46:38 +0000
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