A statement from Furbirds. To all assholes who are praising Mother Nature to satisfy their own amusement.
*To all of you who think it’s grand that a blizzard is whiping its way through this area. All of you who are thanking Mother Nature can go and drop a load of blizzard in your pants. All you who sit around raising a glass for your artistic class. We here can only work for the day when this end of the working class work together towards the day when we can turn you over along with the capitalist pigs, the 1%, the phony, the ridiculous, the artsy, the piglets and lovers of this system. Sound the alarm we are after the superficial. Yes it’s true, and we hope that you will get it that if we don’t work we will be fired. Take a walk down Park Street or any street in Hartford tomorrow morning and you will see workers struggling damn hard to get to work. Wage slaves you may say in your superior attitudes, but with us you can’t play that game, don’t even try that. We have learned over and over that most folks, even well-meaning ones can’t even begin to understand half of it. No not even a part of this working class life down below the ladder. Let’s look at it as more fodder for the canon of revolt.
Strange Hartford Tradition. Sound the alarm we are after the superficial!
One restaurant here in downtown prides itself in staying open during snow storms. I wonder if the workers when they are hired are told that that is a tradition at this restaurant? Do the workers really want to stay? Would they rather be home enjoying themselves safe with their families but are afraid of losing their jobs? Are they a bunch of well trained pets? “Please bossie, please bossie, we love to please bossie? Give us a treat.” Do they think that its exciting to be in a restaurant all the while others are home sitting by the fire? Now let’s see if these workers will come to the defense of boss man owner. We will stand by our words if they do. Let the workers go home. Stop the hanging over the workers heads this phony idea of solidarity with each other in service with the boss and the restaurant. This is one of the worse cases of playing lick the boss that we have heard about lately. You know stop going to these places and maybe the boss man will take the hint and close like everyone else. At the very least you can help stop this silly tradition before one of the downtown dim wits gets too cocked and falls in a snowbank, gets chopped around by a plow and found in frozen stiff pieces the next morning.
What’s getting your goat?
Tonight we read a call out to folks on the Hartford Downtown Dwellers site to “come on out and lets visit in a restaurant.” Nice, party time, but only two of those folks on that thread even thought about the workers that they were holding at their jobs by being present in that restaurant, when everyone else had fled the city. Oh, we all live downtown we can walk there and get by the governor closing the roads not even giving a hoot that Shirley the waitress had to get home to the next town over. We all know how these small time bourgeoisie restaurant owners can be when it comes to customers especially when it is those who they think they are the artistic intelligentsia, who dazzled by their grooviness.
But what gets us beyond all of our own politicks is the fact that these folks really have no politics concerning this end of the working class as they think only of their own superficial indulgences and the indulgences of others in their superficial class. Yes, sound the alarm we are after the superficial! But to be fair and honest here we can’t say if the workers were being held against their will, or the owner had let the workers go home and he was keeping the campfire burning or maybe they have developed a real social conscience and say, “Hey folks around these parts, the white middle class, the groovy, the arty, the dwellers have to eat, they are hungry so we will stay opened and feed the perfumed classes.” Bossy, and the staff all can stay somewhere downtown. Got an apartment to lend us restaurant workers? Come on let’s give these folks a break, you the perfumed classes can certainly give up being served for one day and have your little get together s at home. We will leave wondering if you all are so needy that you even need each other during a blizzard? Don’t you have anything else you can do besides exchanging storm stories.
Even the local news media got in on the act. Dear old mommy sounding, pat your little head, give me a hug and all will be okay, kiss, Denise when talking about this restaurant fondly remembered when two years ago there was a blizzard and it was the only place to eat in town. All we can say to that is, can you make a peanut butter and jelly sandwich?
Yeah we are a bit teed off and this article pushed us over the edge.
“I thought of oceans vast oceans that are between us all. Most folks reading this, if I have any readers left among the middle class, the elites, the arts class and the intelligentsia, would never begin to understand why some of us would never appeal, bribe, or try to impress the snow gods for snow ass deep to the elephant. Why some of us have to go to work, why some of us have to depend on the city transit to get to work and when that bus doesn’t run we have to walk. Most of us no work no pay, no work, the threat of being fired and all the liberal bull shit that reformers pass as law doesn’t help us one bit. OFF the Liberal Reformers, I am pissed today! I better not even get started on their crumbs of $10.10 raise in the minimum wage over the next 3 years.”
“I remember the last big storm, folks were walking up and down Park Street to go to work. When I got downtown there we were, working poor Blacks, Puerto Ricans, and whites all going to work. Same this time around, same as always in these early morning snowy hours. So we don’t appeal, bribe, or try to impress the snow god for more snow and then some just so we don’t have to go to work or so we can slide down a hill in the name of so called art. No this isn’t funny nor is it fun. Your fun is not our fun. Your priorities are not ours. Your gods not mine or hers.
“You know I suddenly saw it all just a bit more clearly this morning as I stayed there with Jose. These elitists, these art folks, these so far removed with their bread and circuses are not my kind of gals or guys. You know one thing we can learn from revolutions past is that the elitists, the intelligentsia, the arts class were marched in line to the guillotine, were shot on the spot, were denounced and sent out to the fields to pull the plow. Yes when it comes right down to it, these folks are no better than the ruling class and maybe, just maybe, they should be dealt the same blow.”
This is entered as food for thought.