Today, while entering the sixth form center (The central hub of activity for sixth formers within the school, a collection of sofas and tables often flooded with people, vaguely reminiscent of an ants' nest except filled with more hormonally charged and far less hard working ants) I noted a poster pinned to one of the two wooden double doors, reliably informing me that there would be a talk held in the school this Thursday by the British communist party.
Now I would like to make clear that I have no problem with communists (Saying things like this always inevitably makes one sound like they have a problem with whatever they're claiming they don't have a problem with, in the same way racists often say "Don't get me wrong I have no problem with these ethnics". The only way I could possibly send out a worse message is by following that up with "Some of my best friends are communists" but fortunately, none of them are.) or their ideology.
I don't hold any ignorant prejudices, at least I think I don't (but then again ignorant prejudiced people tend not to know the fact they're ignorant and prejudiced, it sort of comes with the territory of being ignorant), about communism and I have nothing but despairingly amused contempt for the frighteningly numerous relics of the Red Scare that still seem to be rife in certain areas, most notably America, of the world where people regard communism as a fundamental evil to stand alongside Satan and Voldemort. And I'm sure that most of my school's population are not the type to make a cross or whisper a prayer to Jesus and holy capitalism upon hearing someone utter "the ideology which shall not be named".
The base idea of communism is nice in the same way that complete world peace or unicorns going around shitting rainbows and happiness would be nice. It's nice but it's very unlikely to work in reality. Nonetheless I would say, in the same patronizing tone one might use on a six year old who dreams of becoming the first astronaut to set foot on the sun, that its nice to pursue hopes and dreams. Thus I cheer on the communists with a soft indulgent smile and the understanding kind look in my eye often employed by liberal parents humoring their reckless children.
However, this time, I do feel that the British communist party have made a rather grave error of judgment in coming to give a talk within one of the country's more expensive private schools. A school filled with arrogant snobbish young adults (at the age where they feel they know everything about the world and who, annoyingly, do in fact know quite a lot) who live in houses with more floors than residents and an equivalent square meter of living space for every singular blade of grass growing in their very large well maintained gardens.
The communist party may feel they're going to strike at the very heart of the enemy but it is really as futile an attempt as Frodo, Same and Gandalf entering Mordor alone to negotiate with Sauron. At best they'll find themselves standing in front of a crowd of Orcs, mumbling awkwardly (or orcwardly) into a microphone, "Well... umm... we at the..erm... fellowship believe..." a cough and shuffle as the orcs fidget with boredom, "that Middle earth has a... ahem... right to freedom... umm... any questions?" A moment of silence as Frodo timidly surveys the crowd before him for, one mangled twisted hand rises from the sea of hostile minions, "Yes, what is it?" whispers Frodo, indicating towards the hand and its corresponding orc.
The orc looks Frodo in the eye, taking in a rasping breath to make add to the intellectual discussion, finally grunting "man flesh."
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