More Malfeasance at the BPL

Why is it every time I go to the library, something crazy happens?

Last night I was accosted by some kid (high school? college?) who said he was a student writing a report on Communism. He wanted to know whether, in the end, Communism was good or bad for China. I started rattling off my opinions (complicated question, look at China's dynastic history, context of the socio-economic situation under feudalism, hundreds of thousands of lives ruined due to Mao's misguided policies, the people used as political pawns, blah blah). In the beginning of our conversation he seemed to listen politely, or, I should say, played dumb. He said he had read a little about Communism but didn't know much about how it was actually practiced in China.

Then I noticed he's holding a piece of paper printed with the hammer & the sickle. I asked him what it was for, but he dismissed the question. Then he starts accusing me of interpreting everything from a Western point of view and insisting that if people went so ga-ga over Mao, he couldn't have possibly been doing anything that wrong. Turns out this kid's a young Communist and even has some Chinese characters (which I was ridiculed for being unable to string together) tattooed on his arm that supposedly quote a Mao aphrorism. He lectures me for a while on the necessary sacrifice of individuals in order to benefit society as a whole before I say I have to go check out some books ("Money Making for Gazillionaires" and "Keeping the Man Up and the Masses Down").

I really wanted to say, "I read Marx and Engels while you were going poo poo in your diaper." But I recognize it would have done nothing to keep him from thinking that I'm a) old and b) of soft opinion.

I've been making Sparky play this game with me lately that goes something like this: At a rock show, standing really close to the stage but surrounded by 25 year olds, I ask, "Do you feel old or young?" It's not much of a game, really, because the answer is invariably "old." My feeling after my conversation with Mr. Junior Pinko was beyond old. At least this visit to the BPL didn't involve any porn.