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Copyright 1986 and 2024 © by Michael Soetaert.  Published by the Holy Grail Press, Portland, Oregon.

Once there was a proletariat boy named Jack who lived with his wise and dear mother.  Due to the unequal distribution of wealth perpetuated by repressive fascism, they were very poor.

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In fact, they were so repressed that they were forced to sell their cow.

On his way to participate in the elitist controlled biased commodities exchange Jack was confronted by an entrepreneuristic member of the decadent capitalistic bourgeois class who promised an unrealistic return for such a meager investment.

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The man offered Jack magic beans for his cow.

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Though Jack was pleased at having made such a profitable market transaction, his wise and dear mother rejected any possibility in the validity of such fascist merchandizers reliant upon her experience in prior transactions, and she pitched the beans out the window.

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The industrialist swine, however, attempting to make a short-term profit, typically exploitive of the entire capitalistic world market structure, failed to realize the long-term advantages of fully developing primary resources.  He had given Jack real magic beans.

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Jack was amazed to discover a giant beanstalk outside of his window in the morning.

Jack made full use of the agrarian symbolism inherent in this larger than life beanstalk, representative of the day to day struggle for survival brought about by the repressive nature inherent within fascism, and climbed the silly thing.

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At the top, Jack was amazed to see an absolutely huge castle that could have comfortably housed at least a dozen proletariat families, but typical of the oppressive status quo was occupied by just one person, thereby perpetuating the inescapable poverty of capitalism.

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Quite frankly, no one in his or her right mind would approach a castle of this magnitude, but due to the marvels of plot advancement, Jack undertook this adventure singularly.

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Inside Jack discovered the mythological Goose-that-lays-the-golden-eggs, symbolic of the gross inequalities perpetuated by such an inequitable distribution of a fixed resource base, as it were, in essence, the entire means of this inequality, and therefore, also the causation of Jack’s immediate misery, which in fact is symbolic of the entire working class’s poverty.

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Jack, realizing his social duty to end the class struggle caused by the economic upheavals instigated by the inequitable distribution of capitol and thus the entire exploitive nature of the capitalistic world economy, decided to liberate the goose for the good of the people.

 

Unfortunately, the giant dropped in just as Jack was making his getaway, and Jack had to make with his quick-feet routine.

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The giant, representative of the military industrial complex inherent in capitalism due to its self-created repressiveness in a valueless society, was unable to keep pace with the social change symbolic in Jack.

 

Jack out-hoofed the giant.

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At the bottom, Jack proceeded to sever all diplomatic ties with the giant.

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Voilà, regicide.  Unfortunately, the giant fell right on top of Jack’s house, smashing both it and Jack’s wise and dear mother.  Jack was bereaved.  But what the hell?  C’est la gar.

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The working class’s struggle to free themselves from the chains of exploitive tyranny inherent in capitalism had ended victoriously!  With only marginal bloodshed Jack had brought about the glorious revolution.  How the people rejoiced!  Now that Jack had captured the Goose-that-lays-the-golden-eggs in the name of the people there could finally be equal distribution of wealth.  Peace had come at last!

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But who’s kidding who?  This is reality.  Jack kept the goose for himself and crowned himself Emperor Ultimate.  After all, if Jack could make it big, then anybody can.  It just takes a little ingenuity and initiative.  The people are just too lazy, that’s the problem.  All they want is a free handout.  If they’d just get off their butts they could get a job and they wouldn’t have to be a burden on society.  Hell, just look in any newspaper.  There are pages and pages of want ads.  They just don’t want to work, that’s the problem.  They want the world handed to them.  We ought to make them work, that’s what.  And if they won’t, they can just starve.  You think climbing a beanstalk is easy?  Hell, no!  There are those damned thorns alone, not to mention those slippery leaves.  If those lazy slobs haven’t the gumption to work they ought to be taken out back and shot.  And I’ll do it, too!  (continued on page 937)

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