I hope you have a sturdy gag reflex, the New York Times has fun little feature on, you know, communists:
Amid the honeycomb of offices and hidden rooms on the ground floor of a shabby brick building facing the Hudson River, activists and agitators unite for classes like “Antonio Gramsci: Revolutionary Strategy and the Historic Bloc” and talks like “Envisioning a Post-Capitalist Future.” Networks of pipes snaking along the ceiling and glimpses of exposed brick give the space a slightly industrial feel, which seems fitting for discussions on labor theory and worker exploitation.
But there is also the monthly Game Night, when regulars put down their copies of “Das Kapital” and immerse themselves in table tennis, foosball and a complicated Marxist version of Monopoly called, appropriately, Class Struggle.
In a city known for cynicism, the Brecht, which survives on donations, is a surprisingly open and idealistic place.
“We have folks who are superfamous, along with folks who are homeless,” said Kazembe Balagun, 34, outreach director of the forum for the past three years.
Boy howdy, do I ever hope to get to play Class Struggle with the “superfamous” next time I’m in the Village! But really the last paragraph is what really makes the piece:
While Mr. Balagun waved me out the front door, I imagined Marx’s ghost floating in the hazy light of the evening, watching over the poker players. Behind his famous thicket of a beard, I could almost see a grin.
Hmm. Did I read that right? Let’s try this again:
“While Mr. Balagun waved me out the front door, I imagined Marx’s ghost floating in the hazy light of the evening, watching over the poker players and contemplating the deaths of 100 million people killed by communist governments in the 20th century. Behind his famous thicket of a beard, I could almost see a grin.”
There. Fixed that for them. Don’t know how the editors at the New York Times missed that. Oh, and Dan Foster at NRO has some more colorful thoughts on the story.