You've been a very naughty comrade

In this maelstrom of materialism which is the beginning of the 21st Century Madame Mao is even now shocked by the news that a Nottinghamshire mother sent a strip-o-gram to her son's classroom to mark his sixteenth birthday.

Before the teacher was able to put a stop to the kinky high jinks the poor lad was forced to rub whipped cream into the buttocks of a decedent raven haired beauty.






Of course we had similar events in the classroom during the cultural revolution but instead of sexy western girls we stripped the teachers, blindfolded them with urine soaked rags and beat them to death with rakes and shovels.

Serve the people.

Stuffed to bursting point 吃饱撑的

"When the communes were first set up, it was real communism. The mess hall was great. We got to eat things made from wheat flour every day, and they were always slaughtering pigs for us. For a while it seemed that they were telling the truth and we were going to enter heaven. No one would have believed you if you had suggested that the Communist Party had got it all wrong. There would have been real outrage. They said that 'Communism is heaven, and the communes are the bridge that will take us there.' We felt like we were crossing that bridge, could heaven really be far away?

Then, in 1960, the big floods came. It was the worst disaster in a century. The water came right up to our kang2. In an instant the Dragon King had harvested both our summer crops and the seed for the autumn planting. There was nothing left. Add the commune system on the top of that and it meant we were facing complete disaster.

Initially, the leaders said we shouldn't worry, as the people's communes would be able to sort everything out. But what could they do? Our confidence collapsed overnight. We could just about cope with the spring crop failure, but the floods meant that there was no hope. We started to starve. I didn't have the energy to go to school anymore, and anyway the teachers were too weak to teach. We were in a state of limbo for over a year - pathetically, desperately hungry all the time. What was it like? It's hard to explain. All you could ever think of was how you could find something - anything - to eat.

At first we ate all the wild vegetables we could find and then we ate leaves from the trees. When those ran out we started stripping off the bark. Initially, we were still fussy about what kinds of bark we would eat, but later on we'd be happy to have anything at all and soon the trees were stripped bare. You might think some bark would taste pretty awful, but believe you me, if you're hungry enough, you can even be happy to eat pine bark. Honestly, we'd eat anything we could lay our hands on. Apart from other people, we killed and ate every living thing in sight. People were too starving to talk, so the village was as silent as the grave, day and night. Thank heavens there were some older people in the village who had experienced famine before. They told us that in circumstances like this all we could eat was 'Guanyin clay.'3 It helped a bit; eating it made you feel like you weren't quite so desperately hungry. But it was only dirt, after all, so it didn't give you any nourishment, and it didn't make you feel any less anxious; you were still as weak as ever. And it might have been easy to gobble down, but let me tell you it was a bastard to shit out."

- From someone who was there.

Madame Mao has stirred and she waits for her manservant to bring her morning tea. Her cell has been activated and the leading cadres have been sent to the central committee for further instruction on cognitive dissonance.