NationStates Jolt Archive

This thread is for the actual IC events involving the Revolutionary Capitalist Party. Events that may get pretty long (insurrections, etc.) may warrant their own thread, but most of the day-to-day stuff belongs here.

OOC discussion/planning/general stuff thread is here (http://forums.jolt.co.uk/showthread.php?t=574387).

The success of the Revolutionary Capitalist Party in toppling the old regime in Bluth Collective had provided inspiration to pro-liberty groups everywhere. The more radical groups were especially heartened by the RCP's promise to provide aid to revolutionary capitalist movements to spread the goal of capitalist one-world government.

In today's news, a new Mokan Politcal Party has emerged, strongest in Wellovia and some parts of Paradisa, the Revolutionary Capitalist Party(RCP) has done much campaigning and in the recent parliament elections, has taken 4 of the 256 National Parliament Chairs. This party is currently taking place as the extreme opposite of the World Proletariat Revolutionary Party(WPR) which currently holds 12 of the National Parliament Chairs. None of the major parties are considering this a threat.

This is Tina Something...

Emily Wilson had grown disaffected. Her entire life she had been victimized by socialist oppression; these murderers of the human spirit felt they were entitled to her time, her effort, her mind. A brilliant student, upon finishing college she came to be employed as a highway design engineer, and by age 30 had risen to the highest position in the company. But the unacceptably heavy taxation, the constant demands of sacrifice, and the constant intrusions by the government into agreements both she and her employees found mutually acceptable could not help but take their toll on an honest and heroic woman of mind such as Emily.

The breaking point came when her company came to be popularly condemned for having the audacity to be so good that no one was interested in contracting with anyone else. Refusing to accept forced mediocrity as a condition of her existence, refusing to let herself be further co-opted for the sake of the collective, she stepped down and anonymously found work as a short-order cook at a diner on the outskirts of Goldencaster. It paid the bills, excellence was still applauded, and she was no longer contributing to her own oppression--sanctioning her own victimization--through taxation to the extent that she once was. She felt freer than ever before.

Her anonymity did not last, however. One day, she spied a former employee walk into the door of the eatery. She tried to conceal her face, but to no avail--the employee recognized her, and shot her a look that at once conveyed both pity and understanding. Emily fondly remembered the old days, when this man was both one of her most loyal supporters and most trusted advisers. She had never thought about it before, but it was at this instant she knew that this man was of her own kind.

The man ate his meal, but as he paid his bill she noticed a phone number written on the backside, as well as a name: "Timothy Wright." She did not recognize the number, but knew the name was not that of the former employee. She had a vague recollection of who that name belonged to, but nothing more, and resolved to find out after her shift before calling the number.

After work Emily pulled out her encyclopedia to try and remember just who Timothy Wright was. As she flipped to his entry, she saw a photograph of the cover of a book titled, Principles of Revolutionary Capitalism. Instantly, she remembered who the man was.

She had first heard of Wright in college, where she sympathized with his ideals but nonetheless dismissed him as a well-meaning but unrealistic radical with his head in the clouds. The success of the revolt he led in the former Bluth Collective did little to dissuade her from this position; she had decided that Bluth was a special case that bore no relation to what was going on in Mokastana. Moreover, she still believed in participatory government, and was reluctant to accept that full-out revolt was ever acceptable so long as peaceful electoral solutions remained.

As always happens, however, time and experience had changed her. Seeing no need to continue to read the encyclopedia article, she closed the book and lay out on her couch, eyes closed. She had experienced firsthand the havoc collectivism could wreak on a noble soul such as hers, and was now more open to radical solutions than ever. It was time to DO SOMETHING.

Still, the decision to call the man from the diner did not come easily. Frankly, she was worried--worried that she had misjudged the man, worried that he was some sort of agent out to trap her. She did not sleep well for several nights, wrestling with the issue in her head.

Eventually, she decided she had nothing to lose. She had spent her whole life taking calculated risks for her rational self-interest; what was one more?