Supermarket

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Big Brother is watching you, consumer!

Ah, supermarkets. Commonplace in modern day Britain (and bastardized thoroughly in America as 'malls' or 'marts'), large scale shopping facilities have spread like herpes in a Catholic boys convent.

Putting the super back into supermarkets[edit | edit source]

The origins of supermarkets are unknown. Traditionalists claim they were brought about to provide food for the masses and provide the elderly with some form of weekend 'entertainment' (i.e. distraction from the fact that they probably won't be around by next Christmas) rather than just piling on the pounds by watching yet another Countdown special (make mine 4 consonants and a few vowels too, Carol). However, the Modern and greater recognized account of the creation of this unstoppable wave of Consumerism is in that it is the greatest Communist plan to destroy Capitalism once and for all. Ever.

Marxist Policy and Meat aisles[edit | edit source]

So you ask, exactly how are our precious supermarkets promoting a Red future (of eternal equality, glory and poking of capitalists with pointy garden implements)? Is it that embossed hammer and sickle you found in your cheese and onion pasty? The Communist Manifesto 'mistakenly' placed among the house insurance leaflets? Mao's preserved corpse in the deli counter? NO! Well, yes slightly. But screw you.

The real secret is as follows: in Lenin's (well known gay rights activist and folk musician) last moments of life detailed plans to fully destroy private industry and economy. Lovely chap. By building communal halls of food and house products custom would be drained from private enterprises and corner shops. This would be just the first step. Once individuality of shopping as been destroyed, the plan then specifies that a direct assault should be made up the Rightist Agitators along with the Capitalist fat-cats and their eternal leader George Foreman.

Nonsense you say? Well, the evidence is all there. Next time you pick up an economy loaf of bread, just take a minute to scratch away the outer packaging foil around the product name with your carbohydrate-frenzied fingers (we've all been there, there there now). Notice anything out of the ordinary? Well well well, if it isn't just Tescoes 'Peace, Wholemeal Bread (sliced) and Land' brand. Placed under good UV lighting, the sketchy outline of a manly mustache (the choice weapon of many great Communists) is visible.

If you still aren't convinced, you're either:

a.) Gonna be in real trouble when the Revolution comes

b.) Not eating enough LSD laced Tesco brand Wholemeal Bread

c.) Stupid

d.) A cunning mix of all of the above.

Fear not though if the truth only just hit you, you too can play a part in this glorious upheaval of the oppressive operators of personal business!

Revolution and You[edit | edit source]

In some ways, Revolution is a lot like chess. But it's not.

Interested in fulfilling Lenin's dying wish? Here's how!:

  • Tattoo an address book full of local supermarket locations ALL over your body (you heard me.) then run through town. Naked.
  • Refuse to settle for anything less than the finest rude service and tragic customer tolerance! That or be a miserable bugger and use a self-service till.
  • Loiter around your local corner shop looking 'scary' (I suggest using supermarket brand Halloween costumes, works a treat and CHEAP CHEAP PRICES!)
  • If you are a Chav, loiter around your local corner shop looking 'scary' (no Halloween costume for you guys bear in mind). Then brick the windows.
  • Hijack the Customer Service announcement till.
  • Declare on the announcement 'We would like to remind all shoppers there is a 20% discount on all products if you dominate at least one Slavic nation'.
  • Not complain too much when formally escorted out of the establishment for described hijacking of Customer Services.
  • Have the audacity to replace all shop logos within the store with Hammers and Sickles.
  • Promise a 'Great Leap Forward' in the quality control of goods.
  • Or if you lack creativity or are just plain lazy, write 'I love Stalin' on your forehead.

'But I'm not Communist!'[edit | edit source]

Well then, sort your life out. If you are Capitalist and want to aid the plan, I suggest hiring out a lovely SUV (cushy leather interior is a must) for the weekend. Go on a long drive, putting all your stress and troubles out of your mind. Enjoy the wonder of nature and the countryside, admire the views. Pull over to the side of the road when you find a ditch. Then crawl into it. Then die.