88P'888'Y88 888 $$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$ P' 888 'Y 888 ee ,e e, $$ 888 888 88b d88 88b $$ 888 888 888 888 , the weekly capitalist electronic magazine $$ 888 888 888 "YeeP" "fucking the world slowly and painfully" $$ installment number 117 $$ August 8th, 2000 $$ Y8b Y8b Y888P 888 888 $$ Y8b Y8b Y8P ,e e, ,e e, 888 ee 888 Y8b Y888P $$ Y8b Y8b Y d88 88b d88 88b 888 P 888 Y8b Y8P $$ Y8b Y8b 888 , 888 , 888 b 888 Y8b Y $$ Y8P Y "YeeP" "YeeP" 888 8b 888 888 $$ 888 $$ 888 $$ e88'Y88 ,e, d8 888 ,e, d8 $$ d888 'Y ,"Y88b 888 88e " d88 ,"Y88b 888 " dP"Y d88 $$ C8888 "8" 888 888 888b 888 d88888 "8" 888 888 888 C88b d88888 $$ Y888 ,d ,ee 888 888 888P 888 888 ,ee 888 888 888 Y88D 888 $$ "88,d88 "88 888 888 88" 888 888 "88 888 888 888 d,dP 888 $$ 888 $$ 888 $$ $$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$ Editor: The Capitalism Monster Writer/Slave: BMC $$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$ Featured in this installment Giving Saul A Raise - BMC Ask an expert: Farming- BMC $$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$ 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. $$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$ This week our sponsor is a site that has invested in us over the years and given us tonnes of financial support. I'm talking about Y'know Inc. Productions , a subsidiary of Coca-Cola. Back in the days before they got bought out they were called "irreverent and quirky" by every unimaginitive and unoriginal reviewer in the world, but now that they've been censored we can safely promote them. Keep it right-wing, keep it YIP. $$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$ GIVING SAUL A RAISE by BMC $$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$ "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. $$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$ ASK AN EXPERT: FARMING by BMC $$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$ "BMC, I'm a farmer and I'm having trouble surviving because of artificially depressed grain prices. Can you give me some advice?" -D.K. Fucken farmers. They're always whining and complaining and shit like "Boo hoo my grain isn't growing good enough" or "I'm sad because there is a big hole in the road and I'm too fucken stupid to know that it's safer to gravel 'em over." Well your gay pussy woman words are lost on my sympathies, cause if you're not gonna fix shit yourself you're not worth my time (except of course to write this article that mocks you and hopefully makes you commit suicide so we have one less welfare case in this province). So wot I'm trying to say is that if farmers want so much more money they should grow up and stop treating me and my capitalist friends like their parents. I haven't impregnated anyone last time I checked so I'm not handing out allowance to anyone but my woman who can't earn money because her duty consists of mopping the floor and cooking my fukking food. If the farmers want money they will have to be my servants too. One farmer could come and shine my fuckin shoes right now because they're looking a bit dull. "Boo fukcin hoo BMC, beef prices aren't high enough and we're losing money on cows." Well who gives a fuck? If you need more money then fucken work harder or shut the fuck up and get the fuck out of my face. Jesus fucking Christ you fucking dirty drunk fat lazy farmer, get the fuck up off your fukin ass and do something worthwhile in society, cause I'm sick of having to support worthless inbred hick sheep-fucking faggots like you. Want my solution to low grain prices, asshole? Stop growing grain and get the fuck out of this province because you're not fuken worth the gluten in my bred. $$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$ ___________________________________________________ |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 | |___________________________________________________| .d&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&b. 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.