Lesser stories are published recently because it is a busy farming period. I was thinking of writing about the chaos of the medical industry in Communist China, especially within the traditional Chinese medicine industry. However, some recent events made me feel that I need to write about the evilness of the CCP’s planned economy since it is extremely vital for those people who are in favor of the so-called “Equal distribution of wealth” to be aware of its true nature.
Today, I asked a couple of my close friends to help remove weeds from my field up on the hill. During the lunch break, we chatted about the most prevalent topic in Communist China at the moment – “Equal distribution of wealth”. There has been extensive propaganda talk on various CCP websites to promote this ideology. One of my friends surnamed Han, who I knew for nearly 20 years, said, “Brother, I think it’s great to distribute wealth equally because when we can’t afford expensive food, and the officials are not much better. So everyone will be equal regardless of whether they are rich or poor.” The others not only show no objection, they even found Han’s view rather convincing. This really made me extremely angry!
For years, I have been telling my group of friends about the Whistleblowers’ Movement. They seem to be ready and are eager to join our Himalaya Farm. Actually, two of them have already become fellow fighters of the Whistleblowers’ Movement. That’s why for the entire afternoon, I just couldn’t wrap my head around how they could possibly have such a foolish perception about equal distribution of wealth. I suspect quite a number of our fellow fighters may also have the same mentality. As I reflected deeper, I realized that they hold this view simply because they had never lived in that era and they have been subject to the CCP’s brainwashing for too long. That’s why I felt the urge to share the following story with my fellow fighters.
I was seven years old when the Cultural Revolution was in its late stage. A range of catastrophes brought on by this major political movement made Laobaixing’s life a living hell. All-day and every day, people’s energies were consumed by the endless slogan-shoutings, propaganda field trips, denouncing rallies, and a series of vile campaigns to prosecute others. No one was able to focus on production. The CCP’s disastrous planned economy had led to a scarcity of goods and resources for the ordinary people in the society. People were struggling to survive, with millions in rural areas dying from hunger. Forget about eating meat, even a scrambled egg with a fried dough cake would be a sheer daydream.
My father was a master in tanning hides, hides of all kinds, cowhides, horse hides, or sheepskins. Even though he could no longer carry on the heavy task due to his back injury, his expertise and guidance on the potion mix were highly sought. That year, the brigade had hundreds of pelts in stock and called on my father for tanning with a few young and strong men in the village. This not only involved demanding physical work but also advanced technical input, so the group was well catered for. I (together with a few friends) also went to the brigade headquarters every day, quietly watching my father eating scrambled eggs with fried dough cake, whilst hearing our own stomachs growl. After three or four days, I couldn’t bear it anymore so I cried to my father for some food too, but he didn’t dare to say anything, just looked back at the party secretary of that brigade branch. I would never forget that sad and helpless look in my father’s eyes at that moment.
“Hey kids, leave now or the militia will lock you away” as they scolded us loudly, two of my friends got so scared and ran off. Whereas for me, for the first time in my early life, I was rewarded for my bravery. Somehow, I stopped crying and shouted forcefully at the Party Secretary of the brigade (surnamed Wang), “Master Wang, if you don’t give me a deep-fried dough cake, I’ll beat your son, I’ll beat him every time I see him.” He knew that I had already beaten his son several times because his son tempted me with delicious food.
The Party Secretary scolded me: “damn you little bastard”, yet he still asked the cook to make a deep-fried dough cake for me. I grabbed the hot dough cake, stuffed it under my clothes near the waist, and ran immediately home to share it with my mother and siblings. Finally, I got a real taste of a deep-fried dough cake fresh from a big cast iron wok, but my belly also had a taste of a dough cake size of blisters.
I want to share this story with my fellow fighters today because they are young and have never encountered a hard day in their life. Do you really think the “equal distribution of wealth” under the planned economy is indeed equal? You are too naïve! The essence of “equal distribution” is to rob the hard-earned money from the Laobaixing, like you and me, in order to feed the CCP’s dictatorial families and their running dogs that help to keep them in power. How tragic!
Link to original article: 风林往事——一张油饼的故事
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