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Spring forward, comrades! Forward for progress!

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[img]/images/various_uploads/Time_Management_Commissar.jpg[/img]

Once more, dear comrades, we must Spring Forward, and seize the means of chronological production.

While it is true we must now live in a post temporal world where temporal privilege is eradicated, we can further that cause by freeing ourselves from the bourgeois notion of fixed time, and arbitrarily change the clock to suit our whim!

Tonight we spring forth with revolutionary fervor, and make the heroic revolutionaries of the past proud of us!

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Don't forget to reset your clocks to Next Tuesday!

For your convenience, use this reset button with easy instructions.

[img]/images/various_uploads/Middle_Finger_Obama_Russia_Reset.jpg[/img]

Did you know that a few years ago Russia has stopped resetting it clocks twice a year? That's because they've already reached Next Tuesday and they are not going back.

[img]/images/various_uploads/Free_Time_Laocoon_Poster.jpg[/img]

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It's about time, Colonel 7.62. It's all about time!

Who can forget your timeless revolutionary concept of People's Time(TM) and the People's Calendar(TM)?

Announcing People's Time(TM)


All new arrivals - read it! Take your time! Please!

And I recall responding to this with my own poem from the old days, translated from the Mother Tongue. Paradoxically, it didn't age at all, but only became younger, acquiring more new meanings.

Time and I
By Oleg Atbashian

Clocks that twinkle, ring and tick —
they're ludicrous like galoshes, absurd like arithmetic —
to me, who irradiates time from under the fingernails.
Time's actually the continuation of my fingers.
It emanates out of my nerve-endings, and then —
it flies into corners, carried by drafts,
gets into clocks and animates the cuckoo.
And then clocks start ringing, buzzing and squeaking:
"Cuckoo-cuckoo, take an ax,
stop this madness, break off our hands,
split the dial, scatter our gears in the wind,
cut the bough you're perched on,
and cut the trunk too, cuckoo -
kill him, who dispenses time!"
That's why I have ten locks on each clock.
And outside my window - ten thousand cocks:
"What do we want? Time! When do we want it? NOW!
Broadcast the radio beeping at noon as soon as you can!"
I'll unlock the locks: Cuckoo, here ten thousand cocks.
They were asking for time. They wanted to smell it, to rub it,
to taste it on their tongues - and, maybe, to pinch a bit to hold it in remembrance.
Tell them the centrally planned Moscow time.
Our time we'll keep to ourselves.
Besides, I haven't got time to open my window every hour and shout "Coo-coo!"
Even without that, I'm already out of time. And time won't just stand there.
It'll stop coming to me, getting under my clothes and cooling my spine,
stirring my hair, streaming through fingers,
winding round the tip of my fountain-pen
and trickling down, clinging to paper, bundled in scrawls.
I'll simply remain numb-struck, like a clock with a lock.
[img]/images/various_uploads/Kremlin_Moscow_Time.jpg[/img]
Like that big-time clock on the Kremlin tower,
that sucks out time of our lives,
then gives us a little time
and keeps the rest for inside circulation
and for the all-important time management.
A clock that never blinks.
Nor rings, nor chirps, nor squeaks,
nor cries, nor grumbles, nor creaks…
Like that clock.
Like that clock with a shiny red star -
Just a clock...
A clock...
Clock...
Lock...
Ock...
Ck...
k..
...
..
.

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Comrade Red Square. Is that a naked Karl Marx in your most equal graphic? If so, I think my little err big Comrade is suddenly not able to stand to attention for even the most idealized revolutionary female identifying comrade.

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Yes, Colonel. Under the new time management, nothing is impossible. That may well be Karl Marx with baby Lenin and baby Stalin. Time progresses as we see fit.

This announcement is long overdue, if such a phrase even applies. Everything now is equally timely.

[img]/images/various_uploads/Time_Management.jpg[/img]

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I can assure all of my Comrades that Apparatchik Unkulturny lazily carefully ignored Gathered His Energy during the recent Capitalist-Imposed (Ptui, ptui) Time-Change this morning!

Naturally, my our other Beet-Kollecktiv Comrades were Filled With Revolutionary Zeal and were Eager to be in our Beet Fields this morning at 0600 (as usual) to Honor The Revolution and to Fulfill Their Comradely Duties! So now Our Peoples' Beet-Kollecktiv is projected to Make Our Quota this month! (something that Unkulturny had been sweating, to be honest...) And it's all because They All Know What's Good For Them! And Good for Their Family. If you get my drift...

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Speaking of time reminds me of the troglodytes who disbelieve in human evolution. I have discovered proof in the form of a graphic model (I'm calling it the evolutionary "hockey stick").

evolution.jpg


 
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