The following is a combination of reality, imagination, and insanity catalogued in radio waves, imagination, and existence: Mikhayev was a stout, brawny, boisterous, sly, patriotic, bearded, gritty, and humorous Slav with a nose that was curled like a hook and tough as a brick. He owned the best potato farm in the entire frontier, since it was the only existing potato farm he knew of actually operating in the frontier. “I serve the people.” He would state proudly, standing with one boot a good three inches deep in mud with the other firmly planted on the soft ground above as he leaned down to inspect his crops after a heavy rainfall. He was a man of philosophy and philanthropy, for he believed heavily in his fellow people and even thought men like Stalin could be nothing less than equal to all men. “Stalin was the people when he was an enforcer for the Reds, and he was the people when he arose to the top of the Soviet government.” He’d observed one Sunday morning while sitting on his porch hanging up the skin of an animal. “His flaws were the flaws of the people, and if he had cruelty and sadism in him so did the people for those traits to be shown in him, since he was the people too. If all people were sincere and kind there would have been no reason for him to ever be cruel and sadistic. Such are symptoms of the flaws in the people. The only way to cure these flaws is to purge them, hence why Stalin conducted a great many purges and we had gulags. However, the problems of the people cannot be solved when the solution to the problem itself is also the people and is also flawed.” He said, gesturing with the point of a six-inch knife he was using for the skinning. “It was a mistake in procedure, but not in method. Understand?” Most people didn’t quite understand. Just like no one could understand how he intended to turn his potato farm into a service for all the people of the frontier. “What is good for the kartofel is good for the people. Settlements and their people investing in the farm understand that they are investing and buying potatoes and getting beef, bread, tomatoes, asparagus, sugar, beets, corn, clothing, and wood.” He explained eagerly. “The problem the majority of these people run into when not buying with me is the fact that food is a constant: something people will always need, and imports are not cheap. For example, if you want to buy a shipment of say two hundred and fifty kilograms of bread; a small one, you will likely end up paying at least two-thousand pixels, if you are lucky. Why this much when the value of a shipment that size is only seven hundred and eighty-four? The answer is profit margins and risk association. This frontier is not safe, and when instability climbs, prices for imports go up. Then you have to take into account the profits that the company you are buying from wants to make. The reason that people buy from me is because with me they eliminate the need to buy bread at its inflated price and the need for profit. If someone buys bread from me it costs the real value, takes only a little more time, and they get a much higher return from their contribution to the kartofel. Instead of buying whole bread, which costs more to ship and preserve long distances, I buy wheat seed, which is almost six times cheaper, requires little to no preservation, and ships more quickly and easily. Then, since I am not keeping any of the money for profit and it all goes to benefit the kartofel, I am free to produce the two hundred and fifty kilogram purchase, and use the rest of the money to pay higher salaries, expand my farmland to produce more bread, and start producing a new crop for the people. The same people will realize that for the same reason it is cheaper to buy their bread from me it is cheaper to buy their tomatoes, radishes, sprouts, garlic, potatoes, peanuts, cherries, mangos, strawberries, oranges, beef, pork, bacon, coffee, sugar, mint, basil, apples, and artichokes all from me. And in fact, they are not paying me at all to benefit themselves. They are running the entire business by providing the means to pay workers and expand their food yield. This is why my business is the people. This is also why no one will steal from me: because if they steal from me, they are stealing their own property from themselves. They would actually earn more by investing in this farm than they would by stealing from it, so they would be stealing their own potential wealth away from themselves. It is the people’s farm, for all to share.” After his explanation, he celebrated by absorbing another farm into his own, since the farmers on this farm realized that they would in fact earn more pay and have all the benefits of working on a farm if they worked directly under him since there were no management costs to detract from their pay. He always insisted he didn’t own the farms that he absorbed, but rather that the people owned them, and he was simply expanding their production possibility curves, and what was good for the kartofel crop was good for the people. “My dream is to provide the people here with all the food they need.” He would say dreamily on weekdays when he was hitching rides in his cargo ship, since he had never bought a personal ship for himself. “Food is the one thing that life will always need, and without life, there is no people, and I serve the people.” He declared proudly from his seat on top of a fresh crate of tangerines.
((Like William Faulkner's colored version of Sound and Fury, except instead of time periods it's perspectives.)) Sadly fascism is coming soon, you'll see comrade.
you and your new elite troops bullshit 800 manpower = no more enemy armor but I bet you weren't prepared for… Spoiler shock troops
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