So I walk out of the library the other day, bang a right and begin to make my way through that crowd of people that always gather at the tables outside on the walkway. Normally I try to avoid those self righteous and overly motivated do-gooders that hang outside the library, but the crowd was thick on this stormy eve and I had no alternative but to wait patiently and try not to make eye contact with anyone.
I was in the eye of the storm when I made a fatal mistake: I glanced down at a pile of books lying on the National Socialist Organization’s table. No sooner had I done so when I found myself swept up in an obnoxious storm of voices. “Bush’s sham constitution in Iraq. Will Bush veto the torture ban?!” It was the socialists. They had smelt my fear, and as they began to close in, the alpha-communist, also known as the “red commander,” separated himself from the group and went straight for the jugular: “Hey…so are you interested in politics at all?” I froze up.
Not knowing what to do, I decided to play dead and act like I didn’t hear him. No good. A staple of the socialist community is their persistence, regardless of how bad they may be pissing you off (or how late they are making you for class). “What do you think about what’s going on in Iraq?” So I told him. That was the beginning of the end. Never tell a Socialist what you think because, no matter what, they’ll have to counter it with something more extreme. That’s their thing. If you value your life at all, what you need to do is just throw out the craziest thing that pops into your head, like “socialism is a reasonable and effective form of government.” The poor sap will be stunned, and while he tries to think of something even more extreme to counter with, you make your escape.
Needless to say, I didn’t bring my “A” game that morning. The socialists caught me off guard, and I suffered dearly for it. In a last ditch effort to make it to class on time I forked over a dollar and bought a copy of the “The Socialist Worker.” What a crappy paper. It’s like a tabloid for politics. Shame on you, NSO. Shame for peddling your fanatical wares right smack in our school’s public eye. For you, socialists, the Rock and I have but one message: know your role.
You’re a fringe group. You belong on the outskirts of our community. Next time you feel the urge to rant, do it somewhere where it won’t bother people with lives and actual work to do (at one of your own meetings, for example). The act of standing out on the library steps and yelling to promote your organization is a lot like socialism itself; it sounds good in theory but when put into practice it just ends up pissing everyone off. Next time I want a fanatical opinion, I’ll walk to Church Street and talk to the guys with real crazy credentials. At least with them you know they wholeheartedly believe the words they mutter to themselves as they shuffle from one end of the street to the other.
In summation, I would like to apologize to everyone on campus for my tragic mistake last week. By giving in to the Socialists annoying tactics, I’ve furthered their cause by one dollar. That may not sound like much, but for a group that can survive alone off of the human misery they themselves create, a dollar goes a long way.
On behalf of all those who have to walk by the socialist table day after day, I’d like to say: Suck it, socialists. Suck it long, and suck it hard. And maybe someday you’ll pull your face out of this great nation’s crotch and find everyone around you living on communal farms, sharing corn and holding hands. But until that day you have two options: become Amish or suck it. Choose wisely.