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  <title>Item Dublin Core</title>
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  <updated>2026-04-20T18:14:59+01:00</updated>
  <author>
    <name>admin</name>
    <email>niwa@bt48.com</email>
  </author>
  <entry>
    <id>1299</id>
    <title>Parker008</title>
    <updated>Wednesday, July 20, 2016 - 12:20</updated>
    <link href="https://www.niliteraryarchive.com/node/%25/atom"/>
    <collections>Hopdance</collections>
    <contributor>Linen Hall Library</contributor>
    <coverage>1970</coverage>
    <creator>Linen Hall Library</creator>
    <date>Tuesday, April 26, 2016</date>
    <format>TIFF</format>
    <identifier>Parker008</identifier>
    <itemdescription>Manuscript</itemdescription>
    <keywords>Consulate, Socialist</keywords>
    <language>English</language>
    <path>https://www.niliteraryarchive.com/content/parker008</path>
    <publisher>Linen Hall Library</publisher>
    <relation>Linen Hall Library</relation>
    <rights>Attribution-NonCommercial-ShareAlike CC BY-NC-SA</rights>
    <scannedimage>https://www.niliteraryarchive.com/sites/default/files/Parker008_0.jpg</scannedimage>
    <source>LHL Archive</source>
    <transcript>﻿- 6 -

 The consulate flags hung limp in the rain, as if shamed by the moral
force of their frail protest. You were given a placard to carry, reading
Make Babies Not Freakshows, and you felt foolish. As though you had any
acquaintance with babies, as though a sodden handful of students outside
the U.S. consulate-general, in a dwarfish and absurd province, was likely to
fend off nuclear armageddon, was not in itself a sad little freakshow,
Falshaw, student journalist, fat and pustular, confronts you with his round
red comedian face, on the picket line.

 -How’s the daemon lover, then?

 -Depends. Is it some daemon who loves me, or me who’s supposed to

love some daemon?

 -Both in your case, I&#039;d say.

 -How about the revolution?

 -Delayed for the time being, on account of industrial action, listen,

you haven’t joined the Labour Club yet, people are beginning to talk.

 -I prefer writing to joining.

 -What you are, Toshy, is what I call a gut socialist. You feel it deep
down but you don&#039;t think it through, that&#039;s okay, we need your type in the
movement too.

 -I may have a couple of instincts that I&#039;m prepared to credit. I&#039;m not
prepared to institutionalise them, though, not quite yet.

 -Bourgeois individualism very big danger, artistic types much prone to
it. Beware.

 A gnarled and greasy man, his eyes balefully magnified by slablike
glasses, passed by on a circuit of his own, counterclockwise to theirs, clad
in a sandwich-board proclaiming Christ Said, Ye Must Be Born Again.

 -Christ was the first socialist, you know, Falshaw told the man as he
</transcript>
    <type>Text</type>
    <updateddate>Wednesday, July 20, 2016 - 12:20</updateddate>
  </entry>
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