Friday, February 07, 2014

The Model is a Perfect Omelet

When I worked in a video arcade in Ann Arbor (I worked in several, actually), I was trapped behind a counter where I had to put up with a lot of weird people who took advantage of my position to interact with me. The earnest communist was probably the third worst experience I had.

Instapundit notes a piece about the bizarre belief of young believers in Marxism that no extant example of communist government brutality discredits communism because we've yet to see a true example of communism:

Typical of young fools who were infants or toddlers or not yet born when the Berlin Wall came down, and who have no memory at all of the hapless folly of Jimmy Carter, Myerson ignorantly repeats "arguments" which were recognized as anti-anti-Communist clichés during the Cold War. Back in the day, whenever the oppressive brutality of actual communist regimes was pointed out, American socialists would aver that what they proposed was real Marxism, an ideal which had no existing example, but which the socialist was certain could somehow be obtained. Myerson recycles this cliché by insisting that the future communism he advocates could avoid the errors of previous communist tyrannies[.]

Convenient, that is.

One young college communist used to enjoy coming into the arcade, playing some games, and on occasion, debating communism with me.

At one point, I listed off an array of bloody, dictatorial regimes that called themselves communist. And in my exasperation, I asked him, "Are you telling me that every government that calls itself 'communist' is a brutal failure in achieving a worker's paradise, yet it is all just a coincidence and has nothing to do with communism?"

He thought for a moment. And then replied, "Yes."

I threw my hands in the air. There was little point in talking. Little did I know that this was standard fare for their side.

If you must know, my worst experiences were a young crackhead who smelled of coconuts who was on the verge of professing her undying love for me (feigning total ignorance of just what exactly she was getting at worked just fine to put that off); and the day when a future proto-girl friend, a future wife, and a former girlfriend were all at the desk at the same time, with me trapped behind it. I seriously worried that day would end with a fork sticking out of my arm. But it ended fine and my anti-perspirant did not fail.

Note that having a knife pulled on me and a gun pointed at me didn't pass those three events.

Good times. Good times.