Breed The Secret Design To Maintain Racial Inequality Among The Despised Classes

by William Chasterson

  We built our society on the backs of the wild animals in Lumpenproletaria. Sometimes I almost feel sorry for the Lumpens. Then I look at them or attempt to speak to one of them and those feelings immediately disappear. I’m reminded of what a despicable waste of resources a Lumpen is.” Now let me tell you, I was shocked at what I was hearing from the threshold guardian. I didn’t understand what could inspire such feelings of hatred toward another living being. I asked, “Are they really that bad?” He extended his paw towards a large group of Lumpens lined up waiting to receive rations. “Just look at them! They produce nothing; yet expect to be given everything. They complain about their lot in life yet refuse to accept any responsibility to change their circumstances.” Suddenly a large lumpen raccoon walked past us and the Threshold guardian seized him by the neck. “Beast!” addressed the threshold guardian to the Lumpen, “has the trade started yet?” The terrified Lumpen replied, “No sir! Not for another half hour or so sir!” Releasing the Lumpen the guardian said, “Very well then I have time to show you the breeding houses before the main event.” The Lumpen quickly ran away as the threshold guardian wiped his paws clean with a rag. He apparently felt contaminated just by touching the Lumpen. I followed my guide across the plaza and finally came to a stop at a group of large wooden rectangular structures, which were connected together. There was an entrance with a swinging door that was constantly in motion as the animals herded in and out of the entrance. The noises coming from this structure were indescribable. “This is one of many breeding houses we maintain here in Lumpenproleteria,” said the threshold guardian. “You’ve no doubt observed the colorful waves that can be seen from the top of the canyon? These breeding houses are what supply fresh Lumpens to be used in battle thus maintaining the constant flow of those waves.” I observed a couple of Lumpens engaged in conversation. It was a rabbit and a cat. The rabbit said, “When it come to dat stage I wanna be well grounded and stuff like dat.” The cat responded, “I feel you. You gotta believe in you. Cause these other mutts out here will flip on you in a second. The other day I was…” Suddenly there conversation was interrupted by a female Lumpen that walked by. She was a brown mixed breed dog with short fur and floppy ears. She didn’t make a noise as she passed but her presence grabbed both of their attention as if she had gripped them by the collar. Both of the Lumpens followed her with their eyes and heads, turning completely around in unison. As she disappeared into the darkness beyond the swinging door of the breeding house, the Lumpen’s hypnotic trance seemed to have been broken. “As I was saying,” continued the cat. “Mutts can’t be trusted.” All at once the cat wrinkled his brow as if remembering something. He then turned and ran towards the breeding house closely followed by the rabbit. As the Lumpens darted into the swinging door I looked away in disgust. “The breeding house is somewhat of a factory that produces Lumpens,” said my guide. Picking up on my reaction the threshold guardian asked, “Does this shock you?” I responded, “They are from different species!” He laughed and said, “I thought you believed all animals were equal.” He then said calmly, “They are all Lumpens. Everyone is shocked at first but don’t worry. You get used to it.” As we were about to move on, a tour group approached us on the right. I could here the guide saying, “And here we have the breeding houses. These factories are what supply Cuyamonga with the raw material we use to maintain our foundations.” I whispered to my guide, “Are they from Cuyamonga?” He responded, “Yes, but there is no need to whisper. Lumpenproleteria is a neutral territory that is maintained by both Cuyamonga and Kliev.” Nervously I followed my guide as he walked passed the tour group. He nodded cordially at the Cuyamongan guide as he passed by. “Well,” said the threshold guardian, “I think it’s time you saw the main event. Let’s make our way to the slave trade.” My mouth dropped open as my guide nonchalantly made this remark. As we walked my mind was racing. “These conditions are so far removed from the society we are trying to forge in the Union of Animals. I find it hard to believe that Socrates condones this type of atmosphere. But according to the threshold guardian he not only condones it he is maintaining it. But can I really trust this guardian? I already know he doesn’t believe in animalism. But just what does he believe in? There is no way Socrates is aware of these conditions. I’ll tell Niccolo as soon as I see him. But how could they not be aware of these conditions especially considering Socrates has a network of spies reporting to him. No. There must be some kind of conspiracy to cover up these atrocities. Look at this threshold guardian. I’ll bet Socrates would be interested in finding out what type of operatives he has representing him.” All these thoughts ran through my mind in quick succession at lightning speed as we walked. Again I began to notice my surroundings and I noticed that not all of the inhabitants of Lumpenproleteria looked as though they belonged here. Some were well groomed and healthy looking. I heard a snippet of conversation from two such inhabitants. “I’m telling you Steve, this is living! Doesn’t it feel good to get back to the wild, to our roots? His friend responded, “Well it’s ok to visit but we could never live here.” “What do you mean? If our ancestors could do it I could do it as well. Hunting and living off the land.” His friend responded, “What do you mean ‘our’ ancestors? My ancestors were domesticated. If you want to claim the wild savages as your ancestors, that’s your business.” Noticing my interest in the conversation the threshold guardian said, “You may have noticed that not all of the inhabitants are Lumpens. We have a regular flow of domesticated animals that try their paws at living in Lumpenproleteria. Why anyone would voluntarily choose to live in this wasteland is beyond me. But I’m told that it’s supposed to awaken some sort of spiritual experience for them. They imagine they are wild animals living in the wilderness. To each his own I guess.” We walked back along the path we had taken towards the plaza. Upon arrival I noticed that the plaza’s appearance had changed. There was a platform set up in the middle of the plaza and a large obese cat with long white fur was walking around the stage examining a number of Lumpens that had been gathered on the stage. There was a fox, a cat, a dog a beaver and a rabbit. Presently the obese cat was inspecting the fox. He ordered, “Open your mouth and stick out your tongue. Very well. Now lets see those teeth.” The cat forced his mouth shut then grabbed the fox by his ears and began closely examining them. He then moved on to the cat and one by one examined all of the animals in the same way a merchant would inspect merchandise he is about to purchase. The way the animals were being roughly handled and examined as if they were objects instead of living beings left a heavy feeling in my gut. After the inspection the cat walked to the edge of the platform and addressed the crowds that were gathering. “Folks! The bidding is about to begin!” he shouted. “We have some quality merchandise here. These Lumpens are young and strong. They have been broken in and trained to follow orders. Let’s start the bidding at one hundred fish tails. Do we have one fifty? One fifty from the cat with the black fur. Two hundred. Do we have two fifty? Three hundred. Four hundred. Do we have four fifty? Four hundred going once, going twice. Sold to the gray striped tabby from Cuyamonga.” The merchandise was marched off of the platform and into cages ready to be transported to Cuyamonga. They were quickly replaced with a new row of Lumpens and the entire process was repeated. “How is this barbaric practice permitted in this day and age?” I exclaimed. The threshold guardian answered, “It was of course Cuyamonga’s idea to have an open slave trade as it conforms to their culture and ideological views. To the astonishment of all the surrounding territories however, the Union of Animals did not object to it. They even participate in the bidding. Of course the animals bought by the Union are not considered slaves but comrades and they are immediately freed. Upon their release they are put to work however, in such back breaking grueling labor that most of them do not survive long. Its even been rumored that many of the Lumpens hope they will be bought by Cuyamongans rather than the Union. This is because although they will be robbed of dignity living openly as a slave an
d sub-animal the living conditions are often much better than those of their freed comrades in the Union.” I couldn’t believe what I was hearing. “We’re supposed to be working towards the equality of all animals!” I exclaimed. “How can the Union condone and even participate in this farce?” “Well,” said the guardian thoughtfully, “There are various schools of thought on this subject. However the consensus view has to do with the ideological views of the animalists themselves. They feel hardship and humiliation cannot stop the revolution from coming but rather hastens its arrival and adds to the ferocity. They welcome hardship. The more miserable the conditions the better for the cause.” “And what about you?” I asked. “Do you agree with this view?” “Hey, I’m just the threshold guardian.” He said. “My views are irrelevant.” The threshold guardian peered at me suspiciously. “But why do you want to know my opinion all of a sudden?” I didn’t answer him and he didn’t pursue the question. At the time I didn’t really know why I asked him this question. Maybe I felt his opinion was more valid than those who cannot see the reality of their decisions up close. Because of his assignment he was given a view of the situation that no one else had. Certainly he must have formed strong opinions. Suddenly I was overcome with a sense of despair over life. “If this is the extent of life for these animals…” I exclaimed, “how can they carry on?” My guide corrected me. “Sub-animals,” he said. “And you are right. If this were the extent of their existence most all of the Lumpens would go out of their minds. They have certain distractions that allow them to take their minds off their miserable conditions. Some believe in a prophecy about a Great One who is supposed to come and save them from these conditions. For the rest of them there is nip.” “Cat nip?” I asked. “No this is much stronger than cat nip,” said the threshold guardian. “It is highly addictive and it has been chemically manufactured just for Lumpens.” The threshold guardian paused suddenly as if he had just remembered something. “Also, did you know that a majority of Lumpens fantasize about one day becoming famous? This of course is a pipe dream but it gives them hope.” My guide all at once turned cheerful but he had a sly smile on his face. “You’ve come on a good day! There is a match scheduled for today in the coliseum. You will have an opportunity to witness the type of entertainment the Lumpens feed their minds on.” As we walked toward the coliseum I noticed posters of a large dog in all types of dynamic poses. He was a very healthy looking boxer with strong teeth and a shiny coat. On each poster was a different one-word message written in bold dynamic lettering with exclamation points added. Some of them had phrases such as ‘Believe!’ or ‘Success!’ etc. I was curious about these posters so I decided to inquire of the threshold guardian. “Who is the dog in those posters?” “Oh, that’s Leo,” he responded. “He is the epitome of what many Lumpens aspire to become. He is their hero. According to the legend he was born into the most miserable conditions imaginable and wasn’t expected to live long but somehow he survived. He applied himself to the art of physical work and obedient submission. He was favored with a prominent position in the cannon fodder division of the army and somehow survived with only slight injuries. After retiring from the service he devoted himself to becoming a champion gladiator. According to the legend he retired as a champion because no challenger was able to defeat him.” Looking up at the posters I was fascinated about this hero. Something about the expression in his eyes gave me the impression that he was in possession of some knowledge that no one else knew about. That’s all I have to say about Leo at this time. But don’t worry I’ll have more to say about this ‘hero’ later on in our story. As we got closer to the coliseum the traffic of animals grew thicker. These animals were noticeably happier as well. They had smiles on their faces but an empty look in their eyes. Some of them would walk, quietly musing to themselves then suddenly break out in hysterical laughter. Just as suddenly, they would then stop laughing and continue musing while all the time walking towards the coliseum. When we arrived at the coliseum I was struck with the immense size of the place. It was hard to imagine that such a structure was built with animal paws but here it was. We entered the large doors situated between two large stone columns. After climbing many flights of stairs we reached the doors, which let out to the arena. From my seat I could see large dogs being led into the arena by chains and fetters around their necks. The cats leading them fastened the chain to an iron loop that was protruding out of the ground. They then quickly ran out of the arena. No sooner had they exited than a large iron door was opened and a grizzly bear walked into the arena. There is no need to describe what happened next but it was very violent and left me with a feeling that I would be very sick unless I got out of there immediately. Picking up on my condition the threshold guardian ushered me out of the coliseum at once and I did get sick all over the ground as soon as I exited. Gasping for breath I tried to grasp what I had just experienced and what it meant for animalkind. As I said before it would be in poor taste to describe what I saw in the coliseum but I will describe the reactions of the Lumpens that were witnessing the event. As I looked around the arena everyone’s eyes were fixed upon the activities inside the enclosure. No one looked away in disgust or even cringed. In fact quite the opposite effect occurred. It was as if they were feeding upon the violence and didn’t want to miss a second of the show. They appeared to be in an ecstasy of emotion as they cheered the graphic event. After I regained my composure I declared to the threshold guardian, “That was dreadful! How could they bare to watch such filth?” “They are Lumpens,” responded my guide. “You still seem not to understand the nature of a Lumpen.” He peered at me inquisitively. “Perhaps you need to actually speak to a Lumpen to better understand. You see that young Lumpen over there.” The threshold guardian pointed to a puppy that was leaning up against a tree and scowling angrily. “I want you to go over and try and converse with that Lumpen. Maybe then you will understand what they are.” As I walked towards the young Lumpen I couldn’t take my mind off of what I experienced at the coliseum. It had left a strong impression on me. I still believed in the equality of all animals including Lumpens but I have to admit that their reaction to the violence we had witnessed forced me to slightly change my views on Lumpens. A slight feeling of aversion toward the Lumpen began to emerge. “I will have to control that.” I thought. As I approached the young Lumpen he looked up at me menacingly. “Hey there youngster.” I said. “My name is…” “I know who you are.” Interrupted the puppy. “Yes. Well I just wanted to get your opinion on something.” The young Lumpen glared at me aggressively. “How do you feel about your life here in Lumpenproleteria?” I asked. The Lumpen meditated and said, “I feel like somehow this disorder is planned. I blame the felines for everything.” His response surprised me. “What up mutt?” he said, bumping paws with a young cat that had just approached. Noticing my confusion he said, “Chacho here is not a feline. Just because he is a cat doesn’t make him a feline. Being a feline has more to do with your thoughts and attitudes. He’s a mutt just like the rest of us.” I stared inquiringly at the Lumpen. “And you are not offended by this expression ‘mutt’?” The young Lumpen smiled. “The word ‘mutt’ is not offensive because we have retaken the word from the felines and changed its meaning. We have taken the negative power away from this word by using it ourselves.” The two Lumpens then turned their backs on me and began their own conversation. Every now and again one of them would look in my direction angrily but for the most part I was being ignored. Stepping away from the young ones I pondered, “They have their own way of seeing the world.” As I approached the threshold guardian he inquired, “Did you learn anything from that conversation?” He didn’t hear the conversation because we were out of his earshot. “Yes,” I replied. “The only lesson that needs to be learned…” fired back the guardian, “is that they are a dangerous element that needs to be kept down and in the dark.” Unexpectedly a messenger pigeon fluttered up to us. “Commander! You are being summoned by Socrates!” exclaimed the messenger. I
looked at the threshold guardian. He shrugged and said, “We’re done here anyways. You’ve seen all you need to see. Better run off to your master. You don’t want to keep him waiting.” All of this was said in a sincere voice but with a sarcastic smile. Remembering what had happened the last time I was summoned by Socrates I decided not to interrogate the messenger. As I accompanied the messenger back to Fostoria, my mind was troubled by all that I had witnessed in Lumpenproleteria. Upon arriving I was somehow not surprised to meet not Socrates but Niccolo.