[News] Sex Sans the City (A Post-Marxist Preview)

Anti-Imperialist News news at freedomarchives.org
Fri Jun 27 11:23:08 EDT 2008


      Many capitalist roaders say the Left is out 
of touch with popular culture. Well, I say NYET 
to that! Here, for instance, is an episode of 
"Sex and the City" that I translated for my 
Marxist-Leninist study group, so that we may 
better throw off our Tiffany chains.

[Scene I: Chic, Upper West Side restaurant]

SAMANTHA:     [Striding in elegantly and sitting 
at table where the girls are waiting] Greetings, 
comrades! How glad I am that I – sexy, 
50-year-old blonde girl, being fabulous and 
having much sex with men – meet you in favorite 
haute bourgeois bistro for sex talk. Look at dick 
of sultry, ethnic waiter – is not fabulous?

MIRANDA:     Rummaging impatiently through 
briefcase] Waiter dick unimportant for proper 
ordering, comrade. I, being caustic, hard-driven 
attorney with bright red hair, styled to evoke 
Great Mistakes in Hedge Trimming, no have time 
for frivolity. Must get back to office to shill for corporate capital –

SAMANTHA:     Ooh, "shill" – sounds sexy, comrade!

MIRANDA:     It is, comrade! Today, I defend sexy 
Fortune 500 Company owning Indian Point – nuclear 
power plant making much electricity for city – 
from selfish, unsexy officials who warn of 
nuclear disaster. My logic: Why upset capitalist system?

CHARLOTTE:     [Sighing pertly] For myself, 
comrades, I – token person of dark hair color – 
esteem the finding of Perfect Monogamous Soul 
Mate as most high goal in consumerist free market 
society. This is exalted dream for which masses 
labor, regardless of increasing work hours, fear 
of layoff, dwindling surplus profit, endless war 
– and possible nuclear disaster. Heedless, heedless masses!

CARRIE:     [Flexing highly toned abs, set off to 
perfection by jaunty, $5,000 Christian Dior 
ensemble resembling clothes of Carmen Miranda 
after werewolf attack] Ah, comrades – how good it 
is to exploit our lives in my column, earning 
many thousands of dollars more than other writers 
who, unlike me, have college vocabulary and 
knowledge of world history! [She signals waiter]

      Greetings, comrade bit actor of exotic 
descent who is destined to receive five dollars 
each time this episode is played in rerun! Please 
give us four of your most costly watercress 
omelets, removing yolk and other caloric 
nutrients. Hurry – before more radioactive 
groundwater leaches from Indian Point into Hudson River!

CHARLOTTE:     Comrade! This is too much food! Is 
not anorexia neoliberal pre-condition for true female happiness?

CARRIE:     You are mistaken, comrade. We must 
order many expensive things – regardless of 
whether we shall actually consume them – so that 
our power may grow! Profit motive of late 
capitalism dictates terms of feminine value and we must obey.

CHARLOTTE:     Agreed.

MIRANDA:     Carrie, I am loving of your shoes!

CARRIE:     Shoes are foot-warping, 
spine-crippling Manolo Blahniks, costing $765! 
You see, comrades, glamorous allure of 
destructive footwear comes not only from physical 
sacrifice to wearer, but also from labor of 
anonymous, underpaid peasants who toil in 
abusive, outsourced factories. It is suffering of 
all classes that creates societal clout of Manolo 
Blahnik – brand name you can trust!

ALL:     [Toasting] Carrie is our leader! Long 
live vanguard of post-industrial alienation from means of production!

[SCENE II; Carrie at home. Posed on her bed in 
the adolescent contortions of a 12-year-old with 
a stamp collection, she types on her sleek Mac 
laptop, now available online for under $13,000.00. Her voiceover narration:]

CARRIE:     Later that night, I wonder why virile 
mogul boyfriend, Mr. Beeg, refuse to commit. 
Could this mirror my own sublimation of need for 
basic human contact into acquisition of designer commodities?

      [Close-up of glowing computer screen, as 
Carrie types:] "Commodity fetishism: good or bad 
– and what if meltdown occur at Indian Point?" 
[Suddenly, sirens blare; horrific explosion is heard]

[Scene III: Back at stark ruins of Manhattan 
bistro; the stunned, disheveled four are staring, 
in bleak, Chekhovian fashion, into a dimming sun 
setting over the roiling Hudson.]

MIRANDA:     Men are annoying.

CARRIE:     Men are peegs.

SAMANTHA:     I try lesbian sex. Too much talk.

CARRIE:     Gay men better. Make good pets.

CHARLOTTE:     I, with Jewish husband, for whom I 
convert, have adopted child from faux-Communist 
country. Husband is kind; we are happy. Yet we never speak of Palestine.

MIRANDA:     Please halt unsexy talk of Middle East, comrade.

SAMANTHA:     Say, does anybody know why we are 
only four left alive after tragic – and totally 
unexpected – disaster at Indian Point?

CHARLOTTE:     Perhaps something about Carrie's shoes?

CARRIE:     Correct, comrade! Thanks to healing 
power of Manolo Blahniks – commodity onto which 
we magically project desire to survive – we are, for now, protected.

CHARLOTTE:     [Clutching stomach] Comrades, I don't feel so good.

CARRIE:     You must believe, comrade – believe in the brand.

MIRANDA:     Must get her to shoe store, quick!

SAMANTHA:     Ooh, "store" – sounds sexy, comrades

[Holding one another up, they hobble off in search of Fifth Avenue.]

                                    ©  Susie Day, 2008  suzetski at gmail.com

State Pushes to Close Indian Point: 

Indian Point in event of meltdown:


Manolo Blahniks:


Sex and the City



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