Chapter 41 in the serialisation of the book 'Insurrection' 4th book in the 'Corpalism' series

41

We are enemies of today's capitalistic economic system for the exploitation of the economically weak, with its unfair salaries, with its unseemly evaluation of a human being according to wealth and property
Adolf Hitler 1927


The room was slowly filling up; most of the residents had already taken their seats. After the Mackie and Bob spectacle there was nothing much could surprise them. Mort was convinced he was going to the cinema and Nobby had done nothing to disabuse him of the notion, though he'd drawn the line at supplying popcorn.

"Alb!" snapped Cynthia.

Alb sighed and put on a false grin, "Yes?"

"Who is he?" she demanded, inclining her head towards the dishevelled man standing in the centre of the stage with a bewildered look on his face, "and why's he here?"

"I don't know," confessed Alb, less perturbed by the scruffy individual than with what appeared to be his minder, a burly man who put him in mind of Mackie, although many years younger, "Something to do with Mags."

"Who is he?" snapped Cynthia instantly turning her attention to Mags.

Mags smiled, vaguely, "Someone Mackie thought we should hear speak."

"Can we trust him?" demanded Cynthia.

"I don't see it as a problem," said Mags, not at all sure herself, "we're not going to tell him anything, he's just here to give us a little talk."

"Fine spy you are," hissed Cynthia, stomping off to her seat.

The Preacher took a sip from his bottle of water, scanned the room and said, "These people are all old...none of the usual crowd. Why am I here?"

"Sponsors wanted you to come," said Barry, "that's all I know."

"I have sponsors?" asked the Preacher.

"We have to do the gig, that's all."

"It's not a gig," said the Preacher.

"Sorry," said Barry, "you know what I mean."

"Yes I do, and this is the first and only such 'gig' I will ever do. If you haven't yet grasped that my whole philosophy is against this sort of thing then....."

"I understand your philosophy," said Barry, pacifically, "and I understand what you're trying to do but without an audience you'll get nowhere. I think that what you have to say is important enough for you to swallow a little bit of the commercial pill."

"Well, I don't, so if that means we part company then that's what it means."

Barry closed his eyes and sighed, "This is the only one of these things that you will ever have to do."

The Preacher turned and addressed his tired looking audience, "I would like to relate a story to you."

"This isn't the pictures, Nobby," said Mort in a loud stage whisper. Val giggled and was shushed by Vera.

There were a few sighs, Wilf made as if to leave but was pulled back into his seat by Bill and Ron. Wilf tried a subtle snarl with no result.

"If we've got to sit through this thing then so have you," said Ron, brave in company.

"There was this chap in Greece," said the Preacher, "he'd been a founding member of the Sparta club in his small village, not a very big village you understand, just a small one of say, 500 souls."

He pressed his hands together and put them to his pursed lips, "Now the members of this club took it very seriously, they had the proper Spartan kit, shields, breast plates, grieves, short swords, helmets and a long spear each. They trained regularly, in fact their club became so popular that people would come from other villages. The reputation and fame of the club grew, but of course, over time, with the advent of Play station and Xbox games the membership dropped away until in the end there were only a few die hard members."

The Preacher checked the audience; still general boredom and disinterest, some of them looked like they might be sleeping, "Now the thing was, their club house was rented and one day the owner decided to sell it off to McDonalds."

At the magic word Dora sat up straight, nudging Vera awake. Esmé was nodding, growing agitated. The Preacher grinned. "The founding member tried to resist, he tried to rally support but none was forth coming. The few remaining members threw in the towel and he found himself alone fighting against the corporate machine."

Now there were a few interested expressions, "He lost the court battle and on the day when the bulldozers rumbled down the road to knock down the Spartan Club House he put on his full Spartan kit and marched on down to block the path of so called culinary progress."

He started to pace in front of the them, most of them now entranced in spite of themselves, "People turned out to watch the spectacle, they wondered what would happen, he took up his stance and waited, the bulldozers stopped and a water cannon appeared."

Esmé's hand went to her mouth, Val had paled and was being comforted by Ken. A few of the men tried to hide their concern, Reg had to wipe a tear from his cheek.

"It was all over in a few minutes, he was blasted down the street to the high amusement of the local community, they all cheered and laughed at him, some of the children even threw rocks."

"Bloody hooligans" shouted Dave. Harry nodded and raised his fist.

By now Alb and Gerry were leaning forward, listening intently, "Great speaker, Mags," whispered Gerry.

She nodded and smiled, taking full credit, although somewhat guiltily as she'd had no idea who he was or what he was going to say.

"Well, the people of this little Greek town got their McDonalds," said the Preacher, "and they seemed very happy with it. However our would-be Spartan suffered terribly and fell victim to depression. In his turmoil he turned to drink."

"No," said Cynthia. Dora sighed and shook her head.

"He became an alcoholic, was forced to sell his armour to pay for his regular fix, was hounded around the village and generally treated without compassion by people who had been his neighbours, his friends. Daily, as he lay stupefied in the gutter, they went about their business and gorged themselves on burgers and fries. Now this isn't a Hollywood movie, or I would have a happy ending for you," said the Preacher, "he died a friendless alcoholic and with him died the spirit of Greece and what was left was a commercialised false paradise."

Fiona blew her nose, and squeezed Pete's arm.

He took a sip of water and allowed his last words to settle, then, "As we all know Greece has had severe financial difficulties, difficulties exacerbated by Germany. The level of interest and, therefore, the size of Greek debt would have been manageable if the European Union had put together a substantial bailout package in the early days but the EU has no central bank because Germany refuses to allow one. As a result the interest on Greek debt continued to rise, increasing their debt thereby increasing the interest; a vicious circle. I'm sure you all remember the issues with Greece and whether or not it could stay in the European Union. It is my view that Germany and the US always intended for Greece to remain in the EU, they just intended to take over the country."

There were a few confused frowns and some sibilant whispering. Mort was visibly distressed, too much talk of Germans.

"Germany gets the land and the US get the business. Today what do we have? What is Greece?"

He looked out across the room, he had their attention for the most part which given their age he felt was quite marvellous. He had not expected such a positive response,

His voice was respectful as he said, "Germany owns most of the infrastructure. Some might say they are realising their dream of lebensraum in the East."

He took another sip of water, "And what of the Greeks?" he asked, "What of our small village? They are now economic slaves living in poverty and squalor waiting for massive reinvestment, which is of course where the US will come in. America will turn the country into a massive theme park, all the profits of which will go back to rich investors."

∞

An hour later the Preacher finally took his leave; unusually he had chosen to not simply vacate the stage and the building but had partaken of three ample slices of Angel cake, two cups of tea and endured a host of handshakes. Barry was bemused; he seemed to be actually enjoying their company.

Once clear of the building Barry challenged him, "What's put you in such a good mood?"

"That was well worth the effort," said the Preacher, "I wouldn't mind doing another of those."

Barry shook his head, not understanding, "I'll see what I can do, but I can't promise anything. I have to say though, that Greek thing is a real winner."

"I made it up," said the Preacher.

"You what?" said Barry, pausing in the act of opening the car door.

"I made it up, not the EU bit obviously, the Germans definitely own Greece now, no the old boy and the Spartan school, I made that up."

"I'm not sure I understand why you did that?" asked Barry.

This was the closest the preacher had come to confiding his methods to him and he was flattered.

"Needed something to demonstrate my point," said the Preacher, airily, "and that's what came to my mind."

Cheers

Arun








More books in the 'Corpalism' series
















Compendium editions