frances
>
>The Communist Manifesto
>
>By Dr. Seuss
>
>Part I
>
>All the long history of peoples past
>is one record of class versus class.
>
>Lordship and bondage, seaman and ship,
>Master and pupil, the slave and the whip.
>Locked in a battle now secret, now unconcealed;
>here only ruin, there revolt in the field!
>
>In earlier times, there were steps in the ranks,
>The Roman patricians, seigneurs of the Franks.
>With manifold levels from king to the slaves,
>and each knows exactly how his rank behaves.
>
>We moderns have built up this system bourgeois,
>but now people bathe in the creek or the spa.
>The system is simple, bourgeoisie or prole,
>in two great mad camps, they vie for control.
>
>With America found, and routes to the East,
>the guildsmen and princes missed out on the feast.
>The ancient old smithy with all of its din
>lost out to the fact'ry which makes just the pin.
>
>Our thirst ever rising, the old wells can't keep up
>till finally it's slaked by the steam powered pump.
>Replace all those arms, 'bout the men we don't care;
>change a hundred for ten and become millionaire.
>
>The world's a big market since Columbus' trip.
>Our goods are delivered by road, rail, and ship.
>So we build a new shipyard, and even more trains;
>to the captains of industry we offer the reins.
>
>First under the Kings and the Lords of the land,
>with industry bourgeoisie takes these reins in hand.
>Now using the power of the marketing state,
>the world is all run by those whom we hate.
>
>Bourgeoise, you see, tear away man from man;
>each gets from the other whatever he can.
>Neither church nor father nor even the nation
>is left to disguise free trade's exploitation.
>
>The honor of trade now reduced to a buck,
>whether doctor or poet no one gives a fuck.
>Between mother and child there need pass not a sigh;
>the cost of your upkeep you'll pay by and by.
>
>Industry shows what man's labor can bring,
>far surpassing the works of the Pharaoh and King.
>The cathedrals are nothing to what we do now;
>we'd fly to the moon if we only knew how.
>
>The guildsman kept all to the old ways as taught,
>but bourgeoise takes ancient and holy for naught.
>All that was sacred by him is profaned;
>change the method at once when the profits have waned.
>
>World markets are needed, a store everywhere.
>It's sophistated now to pay for your air.
>Nations are nothing to these mega-stores.
>buy coal where it's cheap; politics is for bores.
>
>"Give up your old ways," they say to the tribes.
>"Set up government we can sway with our bribes.
>Join the world of production, you would be smart;
>You can dance for the tourists, they'll call it high art."
>
>As the town rules the country so the North rules the South,
>depended on bourgeois down to each hungry mouth.
>Collecting the people from farms to the town
>as the cost of production goes down, down, down, down.
>
>Free trade they all call it, no tariff, no tax,
>As nations and cultures are felled with an axe.
>Make nations of clansmen,
>and free trade zones then.
>
>What bourgeoisie have done in these short hundred years
>has surpassed all older, all their hopes, dreams, and fears.
>With Steam and Electric the arm on a lever,
>there can be no limit to the bonds they will sever.
>
>Foundations of bourgeois, to make and exchange,
>were built by the nobles of past feudal age.
>the merchants grew quicker than those lordly chains;
>of those who would bind them now nothing remains.
>With free competition unblocked by the state,
>power was brought them, wealth heaped on their plate.
>
>The past is the past, let's now look at the present
>and examine the state of our lowly friend peasant.
>The Sorcerer tinkers with smoke and with fire,
>but if he should blink, well, his fate would be dire.
>
>"Build more! Build faster! What? No one will buy it?
>Cause conflict, or famine, or maybe a riot.
>Break all their toys so that they will buy more.
>We can't have them languishing here in the store!"
>
>And so the bourgeoisie outproduces himself.
>His overproduction idles away on a shelf.
>Increase his market o'er all of the earth;
>he still isn't happy till there is a dearth.
>
>This elephant outgrew the chains of the Lord,
>now it will overtake old Henry Ford.
>The Fire that bourgeoise stoke from their coals
>is their own dark creation, those folk called the proles.
>
>As you increase the fuel so you increase the flame,
>for coals they compete though they're really the same.
>Each one is the same in the factory now,
>there's no need for knowledge, thought, or know-how.
>
>The machine must work on, with the laborer's aid,
>the work is so simple, and not highly paid.
>The workers become a supply just like beer,
>the wage is enough, there will be more next year.
>
>Armies of workers here are employed,
>bound to the machines their spirits destroyed.
>Slaves of the bourgeois and slaves of his state,
>they give him his profits and give him their hate.
>
>When men are not needed to run the machines,
>women and children become bourgeois' means.
>As soon as each receives his or her meager pay,
>they give it right back in retail that same day.
>
>The classes divide, there's no middle ground
>as with Industry Pricing, no new trade is found.
>Small capital finds some small coal flame to stoke,
>but compete with B. Gates and soon you'll be broke.
>
>Proletariat has a long history too.
>It's born with the struggles which industries brew.
>First one alone, then the whole plant
>against these conditions they stand adamant.
>
>By strike or by fire, disabling the machine,
>sinking the goods made by Phillipine.
>Beating their fists on the walls in a rage,
>they seek their old status from the Middle Age.
>
>Still scattered and lost all over the land,
>they unite into bodies not by their own hand.
>the bourgeois unite them as if by a string,
>to fight all their battles against Dukedom and King.
>
>Now workers are feeling all flushed from their wins
>and try to make bourgeois pay back for their sins.
>They link up in unions and strike for a wage;
>sometimes they win, though always enrage.
>
>The unions grow on and link men arm in arm
>and local efforts help to keep them from harm.
>Still workers compete with each other for pay,
>but now union wages keep the wolf well at bay.
>
>Bourgeoisie need workers, both for labor and votes.
>Teaching them politics, and the workers take notes.
>Once mighty rulers are turned into proles,
>but then they teach others how to live in those roles.
>
>The struggle continues, up to the last hour,
>those ruling, those working, becoming quite dour.
>Finally some of the rulers revolt,
>and join with the workers who wake with a jolt.
>
>Some of the bourgeoisie no doubt they will join,
>who know of these matters and phrases we coin.
>Of all of the classes who face bourgeoisie,
>only the proletariat knows Industry.
>
>Middle class faces this struggle in fear,
>knowing their hour of doom may be near.
>They fight bourgeoise to save their own hides,
>other than that don't see them change their sides.
>
>The criminal class, that dangerous scum
>will intrigue for any who throw them a crumb.
>One may join with us to fight here or there,
>but trusting them far is not worth the dare.
>
>Bourgeois social order is already swamped,
>religion and family seem just so much pomp.
>The nations are nothing, the money's the same.
>Law's just another jungle to tame.
>
>Each time some class makes it to the top,
>the old ways status all have to stop.
>The bourgeoise lacked titles, and so destroyed same;
>the proles lack factory, apartment, and claim.
>
>Earlier movements were made for the few,
>now it's high time to try something new.
>The tiniest movement of this great big beast
>will throw off the table of bourgeois at feast.
>
>First in each country much like civil war,
>the proles will throw off the yoke that they wore.
>Lordship and bondage can exist just so long,
>before the oppressed finds out he is strong.
>
>For earlier rulers did raise up their charges,
>while bourgeoisie only suffering enlarges.
>And so as a ruler he shows he's unfit
>and ready to be thrown off to a pit.
>
>Capital is the one thing that makes the Bourgeois;
>wage labor gives it the power of law.
>Compete for your wages and make them all rich;
>or unite and throw off the son of a bitch.
>