Vietnam or Thailand ? Vote for the TOP Country of the Week !
Updated: June 27, 2025
One of the stiff-necked twins, both of whom Joe was beginning to find a bit too stereotyped West-world adherents, said, "Sir, I must protest. The West does not utilize propaganda." "Of course not," Kossuth said, taking his turn at a dry tone. He said to Joe, "I admire your decision. Obviously, a correct one. Major, a proletarian is, well, you could say, ah "
And if we're going to make this one peacefully, we've got to take every measure to assure efficiency. One of these measures involves a thorough knowledge of where the Sov-world stands, and what it might do if there were any signs of a changing in the status quo here in the West-world." Frank Hodgson said idly, "I believe you have met Colonel Lajos Arpád." Joe said, puzzled still again, "Why, yes.
The one day a Lower is just as good as an Upper. The one day how many shares you got makes no difference. Everybody has everything." "Sure, sure, sure," Joe sighed. "The modern equivalent of the Roman Bacchanalia. Election day in the West-world when no one, for just that one day, is freer than anyone else." "Well, what's wrong with that?" The other was all but belligerent.
"... And the other composed of less experienced proletarians and their techno-intellectual, and sometimes even Party, officers. This is our Pink Army." "Wait a moment," Joe said. "What's a proletarian?" The lieutenant who had protested the Sov officer's summation of the reasons for the West-world fracases, laughed dryly. Kossuth stared at Joe.
The Danube, seldom blue except when seen through the eyes of a twosome between whom spark has recently been struck, still wandered its way dividing the old, old town of Pest from the still older town of Buda. Where the stream widens there is room for the one hundred and twelve acres of Margitsziget, or Margaret Island to the West-world.
The Hungarian captain said lazily, "Are you sure, Frol, that either of them are gentlemen? There seems to be a distinctive odor about the lower classes whether in the West-world or our own." Joe came to his feet quietly. Max said, suddenly sobered, "Hey, major, sir ... easy. It ain't important." Joe had picked up his glass of wine.
But Kossuth bit out to Max, "Don't be silly, my man. There are no classes in the Proletarian Paradise." "Yeah," Max said, "and back in the West-world we got People's Capitalism and the people own the corporations. Yeah." "That'll be all, Max," Joe said, getting in before the two lieutenants could snap something at the fiesty little man.
Joe Mauser sometimes wondered if the West-world observers, over in the Sov-world, were as hair fine in their living up to the rules of the Universal Disarmament Pact. Probably. But, for that matter, they didn't have the same system of fighting fracases over there, as in the West. Joe took a chair while he waited and thumbed through a fan magazine.
Word Of The Day
Others Looking