The Communist Party is back!

That fat, hash-smoking fuck is only good for a few innings. Better pick up Subcommandante Marcos or Che Guevara in the middle rounds for a long reliever.

 

I'm tabbing Georgi Plekhanov as my mid-round sleeper.

 

I'll take a cadre of Wobs for my Red Sox: Big Bill Haywood at first, Joe Hill in center, Elizabeth Gurley Flynn at second base.

 

Here's the problem with Ginsburg -- If you start him he can't go the distance, but if you put him in the pen he's going to be trying to blow you're left-handed specialist for seven innings.

 

But if he sucks off the opponent's relievers, that can only help.

 

BTW, my pick for breakout superstar of the year is literary theorist Terry Eagleton, the Marxist with a sense of humor.

 

OK. You're right.

Tonight I get your house for the weekend. Since it's mine, and we all share in property, get the fuck out until Monday. You can have Fenian's living room.

And don't take all the beer. It's mine too.

 

Yawn, why are you so attached to your possessions?

Ask yourself this question: Does wage-labour create any property for the labourer? Not a bit. It creates capital, i.e., that kind of property which exploits wage-labour, and which cannot increase except upon condition of begetting a new supply of wage-labour for fresh exploitation. Property, in its present form, is based on the antagonism of capital and wage labour. Let us examine both sides of this antagonism.

To be a capitalist, is to have not only a purely personal, but a social status in production. Capital is a collective product, and only by the united action of many members, nay, in the last resort, only by the united action of all members of society, can it be set in motion.

Capital is therefore not only personal; it is a social power.

 

Interesting, and, but have you considered the plight of the bourgeoisie?

The bourgeoisie, wherever it has got the upper hand, has put an end to all feudal, patriarchal, idyllic relations. It has pitilessly torn asunder the motley feudal ties that bound man to his "natural superiors", and has left no other nexus between people than naked self-interest, than callous "cash payment". It has drowned out the most heavenly ecstacies of religious fervor, of chivalrous enthusiasm, of philistine sentimentalism, in the icy water of egotistical calculation. It has resolved personal worth into exchange value, and in place of the numberless indefeasible chartered freedoms, has set up that single, unconscionable freedom -- Free Trade. In one word, for exploitation, veiled by religious and political illusions, it has substituted naked, shameless, direct, brutal exploitation.

The bourgeoisie has stripped of its halo every occupation hitherto honored and looked up to with reverent awe. It has converted the physician, the lawyer, the priest, the poet, the man of science, into its paid wage laborers.

The bourgeoisie has torn away from the family its sentimental veil, and has reduced the family relation into a mere money relation.

The bourgeoisie has disclosed how it came to pass that the brutal display of vigor in the Middle Ages, which reactionaries so much admire, found its fitting complement in the most slothful indolence. It has been the first to show what man's activity can bring about. It has accomplished wonders far surpassing Egyptian pyramids, Roman aqueducts, and Gothic cathedrals; it has conducted expeditions that put in the shade all former exoduses of nations and crusades.

The bourgeoisie cannot exist without constantly revolutionizing the instruments of production, and thereby the relations of production, and with them the whole relations of society. Conservation of the old modes of production in unaltered form, was, on the contrary, the first condition of existence for all earlier industrial classes. Constant revolutionizing of production, uninterrupted disturbance of all social conditions, everlasting uncertainty and agitation distinguish the bourgeois epoch from all earlier ones. All fixed, fast frozen relations, with their train of ancient and venerable prejudices and opinions, are swept away, all new-formed ones become antiquated before they can ossify. All that is solid melts into air, all that is holy is profaned, and man is at last compelled to face with sober senses his real condition of life and his relations with his kind.

The need of a constantly expanding market for its products chases the bourgeoisie over the entire surface of the globe. It must nestle everywhere, settle everywhere, establish connections everywhere.

 

...Not to mention the sports writer and the copy editor. I remember the reverent awe I used to get covering high school softball games. But not anymore. Why? Fucking bourgeoise.

Other than that, excellent points comrade.

 

And Yawn, your cultural theory as we have seen it promises to grapple with some fundamental problems, but on the whole fails to deliver. It has been shamefaced about morality and metaphysics, embarrassed about love, biology, religion and revolution, largely silent about evil, reticent about death and suffering, dogmatic about essences, universals and foundations, and superficial about truth, objectivity and disinterestedness. This, on any estimate, is rather a large slice of human existence to fall down on. It is also, as I have suggested before, rather an awkward moment in history to find oneself with little or nothing to say about such fundamental questions.

 

Does he lack the means of response?