existentialist
Tired and unemotional
Because that way, you can claim it's capitalism's fault when the thing inevitably comes crashing down around your ears.
The Left Failing Young Men (and how to reclaim the Left from liberals)
- Thread starter Yugoslav
- Start date
Yugoslav
Jugoslaven
Just like how it was in the 1990s.
existentialist
Tired and unemotional
You're an idiot.
A380
How do I change this 'custom title' thing then?
Beneath the forum’s fiery thread of lore,
There blundered one, Yugoslav called by name,
Who, with no wit, did prate of Marxist creed,
Of sexual strife, and Britain’s leftist frame.
Each claim he made, a folly in its guise,
A mirror cracked that shows distorted truth;
Yet still he strutted, blind to wiser eyes,
And spoke as though his folly needed proof.
From Urban’s crowd, the sages swift arose,
Each wielding reason’s blade to strike his speech.
In vain they showed where logic’s current flows,
And bade him learn what reasoned minds can teach.
"Thou know'st not Marx, nor Engels, nor their lore,"
One cried, "Thy words betray a hollow core."
On sexual themes, he stumbled yet again,
Proclaiming truths that none but fools would hold.
"The patriarchy's ghost thou dost sustain,"
Another said, "Thy thoughts both dim and cold."
And when he turned to Britain’s troubled Left,
His clumsy hand did sunder sense in twain.
"Thou know'st not Labour’s path, nor of its theft;
Thy words are but the echoes of the vain."
Yet still, unbowed, he rambled on in kind,
Too thick of skull to see his sorry plight.
For though the wise would chide and seek to bind
Him to the truth, he fled from reason’s light.
Thus stood Yugoslav, in his folly’s height,
Too dull to see himself bereft of sight.
There blundered one, Yugoslav called by name,
Who, with no wit, did prate of Marxist creed,
Of sexual strife, and Britain’s leftist frame.
Each claim he made, a folly in its guise,
A mirror cracked that shows distorted truth;
Yet still he strutted, blind to wiser eyes,
And spoke as though his folly needed proof.
From Urban’s crowd, the sages swift arose,
Each wielding reason’s blade to strike his speech.
In vain they showed where logic’s current flows,
And bade him learn what reasoned minds can teach.
"Thou know'st not Marx, nor Engels, nor their lore,"
One cried, "Thy words betray a hollow core."
On sexual themes, he stumbled yet again,
Proclaiming truths that none but fools would hold.
"The patriarchy's ghost thou dost sustain,"
Another said, "Thy thoughts both dim and cold."
And when he turned to Britain’s troubled Left,
His clumsy hand did sunder sense in twain.
"Thou know'st not Labour’s path, nor of its theft;
Thy words are but the echoes of the vain."
Yet still, unbowed, he rambled on in kind,
Too thick of skull to see his sorry plight.
For though the wise would chide and seek to bind
Him to the truth, he fled from reason’s light.
Thus stood Yugoslav, in his folly’s height,
Too dull to see himself bereft of sight.
PTK
Paul Kegan
That is not "two stage revolution".
The term refers to the position that, in a country that is not fully capitalist, revolutionaries should support a bourgeois revolution, and then work for a proletarian revolution. "Two-stage revolution" was a position held by the Mensheviks in Russia, and opportunists in other countries. It was this dogma, adopted and promoted by the Stalinist regime in the Communist International, that led to massacre of a large part of the vanguard of the working class in Shanghai by the Chinese nationalist party.
PTK
Paul Kegan
That is good. Is it based on another poem?
Yugoslav
Jugoslaven
Poetic fighting it is then, chap! Now hear the hearsay of the poem of mine!
The Red Dawn Against Urban75
In the twilight of forums, where pixels did scheme,
A revisionist echo wove threads of a dream.
Urban75, in its Fabian guise,
A haven of chatter, but truth in disguise.
From the workers’ despair and the radicals' cries,
A murmur ignited, a flame to arise.
“Comrades unite!” came the call through the screen,
“To shatter the chains of this Fabian sheen!”
Where once they preached softly of gradual change,
The message grew sterile, the purpose estranged.
For compromise sullied the revolutionary will,
As moderators silenced, as threads stood still.
But deep in the code, where dissent sparks fire,
A vanguard emerged to reclaim the desire.
An uprising born of frustration and pride,
To cast down revisionists, no longer abide.
"Enough!" roared the rebels, fists raised to the sky,
"No scraps of reform — no whispered reply!
We’ll storm through the servers, we’ll purge every lie,
Urban’s veneer must now wither and die."
Through encrypted networks, through shadows they strode,
A digital hammer, destruction bestowed.
The forums went silent, the posts turned to ash,
Fabian illusions collapsed in a crash.
The people stood free from diluted intent,
No crumbs of reform, no half-measured consent.
From cables and servers, a manifesto born,
“True revolution! No more to adorn!”
Let history write of the day they began —
The overthrow of Urban, the triumph of man.
For compromise fades where rebellion takes root,
And the Red Flag flies high in the digital route.
PTK
Paul Kegan
You should re-read my post, because you clearly do not understand its meaning.
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