Comrades, on the eve of the World of Next Tuesday, I feel this is a time to renew our mind and body by meditation to get in touch with our "Inner Comrade." So I ask the question, am I prolier than thou? I am but a simple working dog, the son of a working dog. I attended People's skools. I have embraced nearly every vice at one time or another in my life, and I have a tattoo. But I found myself in the Party as the Party has restored my soul. Long live the Party!

In that vain, may I submit that we all go back to the glorious day when we first joined the Party. Repeat after me....


My Shovel
THE CREED OF THE PEOPLE'S PARTY

THIS IS MY shovel. There are many like it, but this one is mine. My shovel is my best friend. It is my life.

I must master it as I must master my life. My shovel, without me is useless. Without my shovel, I am useless.

I must aim my shovel true. I must dig straighter than my enemy who is trying to denounce me. I must bury him before he denounces me. I will....

My shovel and myself know that what counts in the Party is not the holes we dig, the height of the pile, nor the depth we dig. We know that it is the bodies we hide that count. We will hide....

My shovel is human, even as I, because it is my life. Thus, I will learn it as a brother.

I will learn its weaknesses, its strength, its parts, its accessories, its head and its handle. I will ever guard it against the ravages of weather and damage.

I will keep my shovel clean and ready, even as I am clean and ready.
We will become part of each other. We will....

Before Lenin I swear this creed. My shovel and myself are the defenders of my Party. We are the masters of our enemy. We are the saviors of my life.
So be it, until there is no enemy, but Peace!

If I may, I would also like to share this amazing paragraph I came across this weekend. I am currently reading a book by one of the most disgusting traitors to the Party of all time (one must know one's enemies in order to defeat them). Yet in this book, he somehow predicted tomorrow!

Now mind you, this book was written in 1952, but he was talking about his beliefs from around 1925! The traitor of course was Whittaker Chambers, and the book is named Witness.

"Only in Communism had I found any practical answer at all to the crisis, and the will to make that answer work. It was not an attractive answer, just as the Communist Party was
not an attractive party. Neither was the problem which had called it forth, and which is prepared to solve, attractive. But it had one ultimate appeal. In place of desperation, it
set the word: hope. If it was the outrage, it was also the hope of the world. In the 20th century, it seemed impossible to have hope on any other terms."

Astounding!!!

Finally, one last tidbit found this weekend. Oh, this thrilled my heart! Here we find the Chairman at his finest, showing the People's Justice at it's best! This is the glory of the People's Justice, one man representing judge, jury, prosecutor, defense, guilty defendant, guilty defendant's family, and guilty defendant's witnesses.

I ask you, can justice be more fair? After all, there is absolutely no question of conflict of interest when the trial is done in this fashion. No messy hung juries or malfeasance of attorneys etc.

Thank you Chairman!

Henceforth, due to your unwavering support of the party (not counting the Mouesy-Tongue thing) I feel the need to bequeth upon you the Sacred Golden Shovel

Let's have a cadence

This is my Shovel, this is my Gun
This is for Digging, this is for fun.

Very inspiring.

Comrades, our society is in a hole; tomorrow, we start digging ourselves out of it! Obama and our shovels are all we need.

Commissar L.R. Star wrote:Henceforth, due to your unwavering support of the party (not counting the Mouesy-Tongue thing) I feel the need to bequeth upon you the Sacred Golden Shovel

Go therefore and shovel no more.... (You do have proles to do that for you right?) If not I can give you some on the lend lease program.

Commissar, I am humbled by your Sacred Golden Shovel, and will place it in an honored position on the walls of my hut.

Red Star wrote:Let's have a cadence

This is my Shovel, this is my Gun
This is for Digging, this is for fun.

Outstanding!

How about a "Jody song?"

Ain't no use in going home;
Red Star''s got your girl and gone.

Ain't no use in feeling blue;
Comrade Amin's got your sister, too.

Ain't no use in lookin' back;
The Chairman's got your Cadillac...

Please read with me now Senate Psalm 23, Obama's Epistle to the Acorns:

Obama is my shovel, I shall not work.
He leadeth me to green bailouts
To profitable public works projects, he leads me
He refreshes my voter outreach budget
He guides me in left paths for the children's sake
Yea, though I walk thru the valley of fiscal conservatism I fear no budget cuts for Obama's bumper sticker is on my car.
His hammer and sickle give me earmarks.

Most inspiring Comrade Opiate!

Pupovich, you are a Hero of Socialist Labor. Dependable, hard-working, honest and loyal... you lack all of those characteristics, Pupovich. You are truly a Bolshevik's Bolshevik.

I salute you!

Progressivism: it's all about ourselves but we want everyone to think it's about social justice!

Comrades,
Here in Japan it is rare to have enough property of one's own for which a spade or shovel is necessary. What does come up for sale is immediately covered in concrete that creates jobs and lucrative kickbacks understanding between the Party and workers. However, many municipalities rent garden plots and relevant gear. Accordingly, I have but a very large spoon, one that I would like to lend to Comrade I Fling Poo, yet he has apparently been purged.

In a Party emergency, will a spoon suffice or will I be allotted a shovel?

I wish to suggest that The Creed of The People's Party be embossed on all future shovels both to aid rote memorization and provide added friction to hold sand, dirt, People's Tasty Creme, limbs, etc. in place during transit or hole refilling.

Chairman M. S. Punchenko wrote:Pupovich, you are a Hero of Socialist Labor. Dependable, hard-working, honest and loyal... you lack all of those characteristics, Pupovich. You are truly a Bolshevik's Bolshevik.

I salute you!

*sob*
I am honored by your kind words Chairman and will treasure them always. All I can say is that if I have achieved the right to be called a Bolshevik's Bolshevik, it is only because I stand on the heads of those below.

Comrade_Tovarich wrote:I wish to suggest that The Creed of The People's Party be embossed on all future shovels both to aid rote memorization and provide added friction to hold sand, dirt, People's Tasty Creme, limbs, etc. in place during transit or hole refilling.

That is a brilliant idea Comrade! I am especially impressed with your observation that the embossed Party Creed would add traction to the shovel.

Comrades! I am even more excited to present to you yet another interesting excerpt from the traitor, Whittaker Chambers' book: Witness. In this section you will discover the deep, reverential role the shovel has in a true progressive's heart. Now in order to avoid confusion, this was the underground, so Whittaker is known by many names, in this case "Bob."

I learned many things at Gay Street. But nothing made a more lasting impression on me than an incident which in itself was completely unimportant. One day, when we were “filling the box,” Charlie and Maria were talking together in Russian. I became aware of some hitch in the conversation, which of course, I could not follow. Maria turned to me and said “Isn't it stupid-it comes from being away from home (Russia) so long-but neither Charlie nor I can remember the Russian word for shovel.” Without thinking, I asked, “Can it be lopata?” Charlie, bending over the box, froze in that position. Maria sat rigid with her hand on a heap of patents. Both fixed me in silence with an expressions that were blank and deadly. I thought: “They are wondering whether to kill me now or later.” “How do you know that word?” Maria asked in a slow, guttural voice. I said “It is a Rumanian gypsy word. I once knew some Rumanian gypsies. There are a good many Russian words in their language.” It was one of the most implausible of the many implausible truths I was to utter in my life. But Maria and Charlie very slowly relaxed and the murderous look faded from their eyes. “It is very strange,” said Maria in the same throaty voice, “that you don't know Russian, but you know the Russian word for shovel. You might know the word for a man or a woman, but not a shovel. Are you sure you don't know Russian?” I told them just how much Russian I knew.

I saw that I have given them a bad fright. Their thought, of course, was that if I were concealing the fact that I knew Russian, I must have a purpose in concealing it. If I were concealing that, what else was I concealing? Who was I anyway? A police spy? The son of a Russian refuge? For Maria was one of the Russians who always insisted I was simply a Russian peasant. It was a good many days before this mistrust completely left Maria's eyes and we resumed our friendly relations.

How great a commotion my little slip had caused I realized when I presently met Dr. Phillip Rosenbliett. “Well Bob, he said during our first conversation, “I hear that you are the American who knows what a shovel is in Russian.”

The tension and suspicion that that one word invoked, though deeply hidden, are scarcely even for a moment absent among people in Communist underground work.

I have also picked up a few other words to share....

Yafka: an underground term for the one absolutely safe place where underground people, especially strangers in the city, can go for aid, direction, contacts, and comfort.

Nashe: one of ours

I have to recommend this traitors book for your education so you may recognize traitors to the cause. Here is the forward the man wrote to his children that begins Witness.

Letter to My Children

Comrade Marshal Pupovich,

Witness is on my, shall we say, hit list of books to reads.

I can assure you Comrade Tovarich, you will not be disappointed!