Dinner

A sparrow and a crow, sitting on a branch.

“Say, Sparrow” says the crow, “Have you heard the news?”

“No, Mr. Crow. What say you?” says the Sparrow.

“The humans, they’re at it again!”

“At what again, Mr. Crow?”

“At each other, Mr. Sparrow,” says the crow. “At each other with their guns and knives and rocks and fists.”

“Why’s that, Mr. Crow?”

“It’s the Capitalists, Sparrow. They’ve pushed the Proletariat too far and now they’re at it again,” says the crow.

“This should come as no surprise, Mr. Crow,” says the sparrow. “It has been written that events such as these would transpire.”

“You are speaking of Marx again, Mr. Sparrow?”

“Of course, Mr. Crow,” the sparrow exclaims. “For it is written that the history of all hitherto existing society is the history of class struggle, Mr. Crow!”

“Yes, it is indeed written,” says the crow, “but written words do not truths make, Mr. Sparrow.”

“Right you are, Mr. Crow, but you say they’re already at it again, which must indeed prove that the aforementioned notion carries some weight,” says the sparrow.

“Yes, in those regards, you are indeed correct,” says the crow, “but that is clearly where the similarities end, Mr. Sparrow.”

“On the contrary, Mr. Crow, that is only where the similarities begin!”

“Do tell, Mr. Sparrow,” says the crow, “ for I am intrigued by your misguided enthusiasm.”

“Well, Crow,” says the Sparrow, “It begins with the notion of private property. It’s not a new notion, to be most certain, but in its current ideological phase, Mr. Crow, it is derived from the political philosophies of John Locke. Locke argued that private property, when consequent of one’s own labor, is one of the most basic of all human rights, Mr. Crow.”

“Thus far, Mr. Sparrow, I have yet to see the fruits of our discourse.”

“Patience, Mr. Crow, is the most virtuous of attributes,” says the sparrow. “As I was saying, Mr. Crow, private property has its origins in logical predispositions. But as Marx and others discovered soon thereafter, private property had the potentiality to bring about perverse predispositions of the human mind. As Marx himself said, Mr. Crow, ‘The road to Hell is paved with good intentions.’”

“I still don’t see what you’re getting at, Mr. Sparrow,” says the crow. “I would like to think you an intelligent being, but your connections are paltry and meager at best.”

“I have not, as of yet, made the adequate connections, Mr. Crow,” says the sparrow. “In due time, you will realize the error of your words. As I was saying, Crow, the very concept of private property has the potential for perversions of the human mind, perversions that result accordingly in the hoarding of property and thus, class separation. I know you, Mr. Crow, are very fond of all you own. As Marx said, ‘You are horrified at our intending to do away with private property. But in your existing society, private property is already done away with for nine-tenths of the population; its existence for the few is solely due to its non-existence in the hands of those nine-tenths. You reproach us, therefore, with intending to do away with a form of property, the necessary condition for whose existence is the non-existence of any property for the immense majority of society.’ That, Mr. Crow, is the basis for this argument,” says the sparrow. “Is it of no wonder to you that the Proletariat have chosen to rise?”

“Mr. Sparrow, your points are all ones that I have heard before. They are trite, outdated notions that should be left to the dogs. I applaud your persistence, Sparrow, but your argument is futile.”

“The Proletarians have nothing to lose but their chains, Mr. Crow, but they have a world to gain. May the working men of all countries unite!”

A shot rings out in the distance. The sparrow is removed from the branch and falls to the ground. The revolutionaries swarm the dying bird. “Gonna have meat in the stew tonight,” one says.

“Serves him right,” says the crow.

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