Here’s a joke that Clarence Kailin told at a potluck a few years ago. A re-telling seems appropriate. It’s about the day Karl Marx died.
Old Karl arrived up in Heaven, at the Pearly Gates. St. Peter recognized him right away, but decided to have a little fun anyway.
“Name?” said St. Peter.
“Karl Marx. That’s Marx with an ‘x’ and Karl with a ‘k.”
With great flourish, St. Peter opened the Golden Book to the M’s and started down the list. After a moment he frowned over his glasses. “I’m sorry, Mr. Marx. We obviously have nothing for you here.”
With that, Karl picked up his shabby little suitcase, turned and headed down the Golden Stair.
A week passed. St. Peter is on the phone, calling down to Hell. “Lucifer. Pete here. Hey, we didn’t get a shipment from you guys this week. What’s going on? You’re usually very prompt.”
“It’s that Karl Marx guy you sent us,” says the Devil. “No sooner did he arrived, than he started organizing unions. Right now the Sulfur Workers are threatening a general strike unless they get air conditioning. I tell ya, Pete. There might not be anymore shipments from down here unless we get rid of this guy.”
“Ok, ok,” says St. Peter with a sigh. “Send him back.”
Next morning, there’s old Karl, again standing before the Pearly Gates. This time no questions asked. The gates swing open and he floats inside.
A week passes. This time it’s the Devil making a call up to Heaven. “Lucifer, here. Say, did our last shipment arrive?”
“Yes,” says the voice on the Heaven end of the line. “Quite all right.”
“Well,” says the Devil. “We haven’t been paid yet. You guys are always so prompt.”
“Yes,” says the voice on the Heaven end of the line. “There have been a few changes up here. First, we’ve reorganized. We’re now a workers’ collective.”
“And, we voted to cancel the foreign debt. So, you won’t be getting paid for that last shipment.”
“What?” says the Devil.
“Oh, and by the way, we’ve expropriated your train. And your crew’s defected.”
“That’s ridiculous!” says the Devil. “Let me talk to St. Peter.”
“I’m sorry, but Citizen Peter no longer works in this capacity.”
“That’s outrageous!” says the Devil. “I demand to talk to God!”
After a short pause on the Heaven end of the phone the voice says, “…Who?”
We may have disagreements about things like souls and spirits and what happens when you die. But, we can agree on one thing. Wherever Clarence is tonight, you can be sure he’s organizing.
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2 comments:
Thanks Ron. That's great. Clarence once told me a joke too, at the old Union House Tavern at Milwaukee and E. Washington in Madison that was very similar. It went like this….
Lenin dies and of course heads straight to Hell. Well it didn’t take long before he got the place organized. His reputation spread far and wide, even up to Heaven. Well, God had been having some organizational problems of his own up there, so he called down to old Lucifer.
“Hey Lucifer, this is God here, I understand you got a newbie named Lenin down there, pretty good organizer, huh?”
“That’s right, don’t know where the hell I’d be without him there days.”
“Well, after that last debacle when I helped you guys out down there, you remember we agreed that I had a favor coming. Well, I’d like to call it in now. Loan me out this Lenin guy for a week, just one oughta do it.”
“OK”, says the Devil, “But you know this is gonna hurt me. Have him back pronto by next week!”
Well a week passes and Lenin has not returned to Hell. Old Lucifer is getting anxious so he calls up to God after the 8th day of Lenin’s absence. “Hey what gives, give me that Lenin back, we need him. A deal’s a deal!”
God states flatly, “Well, he is on his way shortly, except I do have two conditions upon Lenin’s return to Hell.”
“What the hell!” the Devil screams, beside himself with rage now. “What are these conditions!”
“Well”, says God, “First, from now on you are to address me as Comrade when we speak.”
“Oh for Christ’s sake,” says Lucifer fuming. So what the hell is the other demand?
And God looks him in the eye and says, “I don’t exist!”
I will never forget the devilish little twinkle in his eye when he told me this joke. His joy in the telling was made all the better by how he prefaced it. He explained to me that he told the joke a number of years previously, to the CPUSA Central Committee, old Gus Hall and company. Clarence obviously delighted in the fact that these stiff shirts did not know whether to shit or go blind. His irreverence for the icons of “the movement”, his willingness to question authority – of anyone, and his impishly subversive nature which shone through that evening is one of my fondest memories of our old friend. Union brother and socialist comrade, you will be missed!
Ron Kaminkow
Reno , NV .
Thanks for posting that; funny and very apt. Luckily there are lots of stories to keep Clarence in our memories.
Tami
Thorold, Ontario
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