I Became Stalin chapter 284

I became Stalin chapter 284

284

“Wow… what kind of person… .”

“Hey! It’s a real festival when it’s in order!”

In January in Alabama, even in winter, the minimum temperature rarely drops below freezing. There are not many cloudy or rainy days, but the weather was not as sunny as today.

The official name of the event was written on banners fluttering everywhere.

Fortunately, the Communist Party of America was able to secure a site for the festival near Hardaway, about 40 kilometers southeast of Montgomery City, and embedded it in an unfamiliar place name or phrase for propaganda purposes.

And more people arrived than expected.

Much more.

“Now visitors… How many thousands?”

“I think it will be around 40,000… .”

Montgomery, the capital of Alabama, has a population of about 100,000 people, and the total population of this large state is 3 million, but 400,000 people have already flocked to it.

On the large site, which is expected to be nearly 1 million pyeong, people from all over the place gathered to watch individual performances and exhibitions, applauding and having fun.

The young students learned in   got off the red van pulled by the men of their local party and performed an impromptu performance. The club bands formed within the factory labor union also hung their own flags and small banners to show off their hard-working skills.

I didn’t expect so many people to come, but everyone was eager to show off their skills. The artists who were able to secure a seat by applying to the organizers in advance seemed to have their lips ripped up to their ears thanks to the number of people who came several times more than expected.

“What? No seats? That’s okay, but… Then you can do it over there!”

“Yes? Are you over there?”

It wasn’t just musicians who gathered here. Artists and various creators, reluctant to show off their talents, somehow managed to squeeze into the cramped seats.

Some artists even put their art pieces on the garbage heap. Did he decide that it was a better seat because it was a pigeon made of weaving garbage?

Of course, his attempt was applauded by numerous people. Seeing this, a lot of people put their own stuff on the garbage heap, and then they were mistaken for garbage and cleaned up together.

Also, performance arts, which would be quite unfamiliar in this era, were tried quite a bit.

“uh? like that… Hmm… .”

A young man with a black cloth on his back began to contemplate something while watching the explosion and mess of disordered art created by hundreds of thousands of people.

With a big heart, he took out the work he brought with him, and he strode in front of people and headed for the muddy mud.

The people who had not even looked at them because of the already accumulated filth and the stench that they had given them burst into laughter as they excitedly watched the young man carrying a large doll and heading towards the mud.

“Ah… ! Fuck MacArthur!”

“Wah ha ha ha! Hahaha! What is that!”

“Hey, are you okay?”

The young man who threw his trademark sunglasses and a pipe doll into the muddy mud so that anyone could tell that he was MacArthur, picked up the filth from the floor and threw it in MacArthur’s face.

“Hahahaha, can I try it too?”

“Yes! Anything. I didn’t mean to do this at first… .”

People giggled and laughed and started tossing rocks, leftovers and trash at MacArthur as he slipped into the mud.

“What is this… Hahahaha, is this the work of a comrade? It’s a masterpiece. for a bit… .”

Click, click.

The organizers came to see what was going on, and when they saw people throwing things at MacArthur dolls, they burst out laughing and started taking pictures.

Perhaps that picture will decorate a corner of the Pravda newspaper. Reporter Pravda, who arrived to cover this place, smiled as if he didn’t like MacArthur, and wrote down the interview with the young man.

“So what is the meaning of this exhibition?”

“I thought that the government should fear the people, not the people fear the government. One day, MacArthur will come down from the throne and become a natural man, in the sense that the people should think about what he will do… .”

“Yes, you are right. Ex-President Wallace was not popular, but he spent his time doing various volunteer activities and leading volunteer groups… I wonder what will happen to Mr. MacArthur.”

The young man expressed his views in detail with a very refined tone for an improvised performance art. The reporter wrote down the interview with admiration.

“Oh right. What is your comrade’s name? You didn’t ask that.”

“Yes! Oh, Andy Warhol. Will my name be included?!”

“Sure! Warhol Comrade!”

* * *

On the main stage in the center, artists specially invited by the Communist Party were welcomed by thousands of people.

“And then… Wow! I’m a fan of this guy too, Lou~~~! Armstrong!!!!”

“Woah Aaaaaaaaaaaa!!!”

“Armstrong! Armstrong! Armstrong! Armstrong!”

In fact, it was difficult for the Communist Party, who spent a lot of money to host this event, to get a guarantee from a big star like Louis Armstrong.

But Armstrong willingly accepted the stage for an exorbitant $1 guarantee. Thousands of newspapers featured his choice, and tens of thousands of people flocked to Armstrong’s performances, even those not necessarily communist supporters and those who didn’t like the promiscuous festivals, filling the lawn with tens of thousands of people.

“Thank you! This is the first time for me to perform like this in a place like this. And yet, there are so many spectators like you… Love it!”

“Me too! Armstrong! Armstrong!”

The master of jazz, Louis Armstrong, took his trumpet to the stage and grabbed the mic. He opened his mouth as if he was genuinely happy.

“The reason I came here… I should tell you a little bit about my childhood.”

The people who cheered for Armstrong all the time became one at a time. Armstrong smiled as if thanking him, bowed his head in return, and then proceeded to unravel his personal story.

“When I was young… I wanted to buy a cornet like that. Ha, how difficult it was for a twelve-year-old child to save a penny or two to buy an instrument!”

People all at once became silent.

“But these days, the Communist Party buys young children free musical instruments, right? Oh, and I had an accident and went to a juvenile detention center. There, Mr. Davis taught me music. That’s how I was able to come here…

These days, you can learn to play an instrument without having to go to jail. Oh God! No, Comrade Secretary General!”

Armstrong’s sarcastic remarks made people cry, laugh, and then become sober when they realize it’s their story.

“Dedicated to beautiful people like you who support all of that business! with me… This is a song that some young and promising friends made together. The title is… ‘era’.”

Armstrong, who ended his haste, began to blow his trademark trumpet vigorously. A few young singers also came out and grabbed the mic.

[The era of whips and bridles is said to be over! It is said that the age of slavery is over

The red flag, which goes against the times, is now to be lowered.

But what to do! On the green hills of my hometown so beautiful

The unfinished revolution remains in my heart and continues to explode!

In your wars, in the wars you make

The soldiers of the victorious countries and the soldiers of the defeated countries (the black ones!)]

As if prepared in advance, a group of people shouted ‘Black people!’ and added Chuimsae. Armstrong gave a wink and waved his hand.

[What did you gain from that filthy battle of yours!!!

I got the freedom that I had to die for

Got a thankful equality to work to scrap!

The blacks of the victorious countries and the blacks of the defeated countries

What did you gain from that filthy battle of yours?

What did you gain from that dirty battle of yours!!!]

People froze as if struck by lightning.

And started singing along to the chorus.

“What have you gained from that filthy battle of yours! What have you gained from that filthy battle of yours!”

[I have received the freedom that can only be obtained by dying

We got the thankful equality that we can all work together to become scraps!!!]

As if singing a roundabout song, the singers and the audience began to repeat the chorus and the main lyrics together.

And behind the scenes, the banner unfolded. A torch, sickle, and hammer crossed in a circle made of a bunch of ears similar to the coat of arms of the Soviet Union, creating a peace mark.

“Free! Peace! Equality! They are shouting! On the inside… On the inside… I only make up my teeth… !”

A number of Armstrong’s fans had to listen to the song he sang out loud with a surprised expression on his face.

Quite a few young blacks criticized Louis Armstrong as a “white clown.” In performances, Armstrong would often improvise and perform, mimicking the frivolous and stupid black people of white people.

Even though he recognized him as a great jazz player, there were many who hated his servile attitude, but now he sings like this! Armstrong’s people cheered, either with their mouths wide open, or as they sang along to the chorus.

As the short winter sun set, a red light was cast on the ground. His dark skin glowed red, and Armstrong greeted the audience.

“Everyone… Thank you!

“Wow! wow! AAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAH!!!”

* * *

“Great success! Even the money I earned… .”

“Ugh. This would be a budget for several years. Is that great?”

The five-day festival was over. The venue, where the event was held in the order of one million people, was much cleaner than expected.

Of course, although there were still some unions or city communist organizations taking out the trash left at the event site in truck units. People showed an amazing sense of order. There were people who filled their backpacks with the garbage they ate and drank, and even picked up the things left behind by others one by one.

Politics and propaganda pamphlets were also carefully taken with them or gathered again at the same angle as the distribution site. What a waste to throw away something that could one day be recycled!

Although it received considerable support, the organizers of the Communist Party, which sold tickets to raise basic financial resources, were able to save more than expected. Hundreds of thousands of people flocked to it, and even if they didn’t participate, they bought tickets as souvenirs, leaving millions of dollars in sales.

“then… Next, where would you like to build a center and start an education business?”

I became Stalin chapter 284

|

ToC

|