The Daily Worker Newspaper, September 13, 1924, Page 12

(Continued from previous issue) How else should I have known some nights ago that all over Moscow they were celebrating the 10th anniversary of the outbreak of war, with protest meetings against the capitalist prepar- ations for the next outbreak. We could not get tickets for the meeting at which Trotsky spoke, but perhaps there was no more interesting one than that we did attend; a meeting of women delegates each represent- ing a group of 20, and accredited to a@ permanent central body formed for the purpose of encouraging solidarity among the workers. These women filled the great white marble—or near- marble—pillared hall of the Moscow Central Labor . Council, formerly a nobleman’s club. With the exception of one man, all the speakers were wo- men, among them a Chinese delegate to the Red Trade Union International. She spoke with the hardly suppressed violence of voice and gesture, of the woman still in subjection, while it seemed to me that the others, how- ever impassioned, expressed a sense of liberation—liberation of their class rather than of their sex, for the one implies the other. After each address, the band played a few strains of the International, all rising and in the change of attitude relaxing and rest- ing for the next address. Suddenly the roll of drums was heard without the door, and way was made for a company of Young Pio- neers, boys and girls, with their gor- geous red and gold banners and red neck-kerchiefs. Down the isle they marched to the roll of theif own drums, and up to the stage, where they formed in two long lines across it, while one of their number stepped forward and spoke for them. Great enthusiasm was shown for the little band, for these young people are the government pillars of the future. Two hundred thousand of.them there are, enrolled thruout the country, with a large membership in Moscow. Their watchword is “Be prepared!” and they know very intelligently just what they must be prepare for—to stand for their class against the armed threat of the capitalist world without. Again the International, this time sung by the whole audience thru three long stanzas. I have never heard it so cheerfully sang, with no hint, in the tone, of the dismal and _ rebel- lious idea conveyed by the words; rather, a suggestion of happy fulfill. ment. After a short mtermission, the stage was cleared for a children’s perform- ance. A mixed group of boys and girls from Homes and Trade Union schools gave in song and dance, a very beau- tifui interpretation of the Carmag- nole, which had to be repeated. A lit- tle play in damce and song was put on by the Young Pioneers, called “The Pioneers’ Dream.” The preliminary acting was spontaneous, and the danc- ing of flowers, butterflies, frogs, fish, etc., pretty and amusing, but this part might just as well have been any- where in America. Then came an ef- fective drill; the bare-Iegged girls, in (Continued from page 2) ceeding the proletarian—the Meta- physical, the Theological, the Linguis- tic—were long-distance views of life. Concrete aspects were overlooked as insignificant; common life suffered accordingly. Proletarian culture alone is potent to make us realize the large significance of common things. The great lesson of Darwin's life work: “The cumulative importance of in- finitely little things” is also a true basis for our Use-Culture. Bygone cultures declared with contempt that the toiler’s life was an infinitely little thing, but they knew not the cumula- tive importance of infinitely little things! Hence their perverse bungl- ing. The Nouveau Regime is well on its way. No longer shall it be legitimate to assail Superior Brains with a for- merly just condemnation; “tho ye boast an hundred wise ones amongst ye, what shall it profit me, too hard- NEW CULTURE Letters From Moscow _ - white blouses and short skirts carried sickles at their hips, or large army stars held high, the boys, stripped to the waist, swung huge hammers over their shoulders; and all went to work with an energetic rythm. The whole little company then gave a marching drill in army fashion, with a great deal of snap, Finally a group of young people, gathered from the fam- ine districts, from all sorts of alien races, gave songs in chorus from some of their own music. Two young boys sang together a strange barbaric thing, with plaintive unfamiliar in- tervals. They were in charge of a very unassuming leader, who led them out and simply indicated when they should begin, and then effaced him- self. I should have mentioned that the children opened their program with an artistically sung memorial song for Lenin, whose huge portrait hung behind them, decorated with greens. Everywhere “Leninism” is the conspicuous inspiration, and in spite of Max Eastman, this is not a static conception; its very essence is flexibility. About midnight, the International again, and when we came out, keyed up with the inspiration of it all, we found ourselves faced with an Amer- ican movie thrown high on the wall of the building across the square. A beautiful girl on horse back in a wild country was being rescued from a low browed villain by a handsome officer. It seems to be a permanent free show, and not having paid for it, you can go on when you please without a sense of extravagance. Perhaps the workers sit at the windows of their noblemen’s club, and view it at ease. They are run at a much slower tem- po than our films. The next night as I passed, the electric army star still blazed above the labor temple and the sickle and hammer above its door, framed in scarlet bunting, and on the film canvass they were throwing anti- war propaganda in cartoon and text, while the great cobble-paved square was filled with thousands, standing or sitting cross-legged on the cobles, in silent interest. And it is no pacifist propaganda, this anti-war-protest, for the watchword of the Workers’ Goy- ernment, like that of the Young Pio- neers, and like that of every gov- ernment, but with more sincerity of purpose, is “Be prepared.” Yesterday, I just missed entrance to the Lenin Mausoleum in the Red Square, with a contingent of corres- pondents, to whom, with some nerve, I should have attached myself had I known in time. Every day at 5 P. M. long lines of the devout assemble at the doorway opposite, where permits are given. Instead, I was shown about the Kremlin, (which is now difficult of access) by Mrs. Fischer of the Children’s Improvement Committee whose office is there in a beautiful old 16th Century palace, and who sac- rificed her valuable time to go about with me in the hot sun, and through the state room of the palace. But alas, I could not enter the proup of oki churches with their picturesquely- massed domes and towers, whose som- berly beautiful interiors I remember of old. Leaving the Kremlin gate, I saw long lines of marching citizens with scarlet banners and buntings, with portraits of Lenin and Marx, and texts and slogans, pouring in from all direc- tions and massing for a great demon- stration march. My way lay with theirs, so I paralelled them on the side-walk. Companies of soldiers, companies of workers, of women, of students, of Young Pioneers,—school and gymnasium groups, down to the smallest tots, who marched as valiant- ly as their elders through the hot sun and the long hours. In front of the Comintern, where an official group was gathered on a high balcony, each company halted for salutes and “yells”, for like our own youths, each group has its yell. I dropped out for awhile and had lunch at a small cafe, and when I came out, they they were still passing. On they went, past the Moscow Soviet, where the saluting and yelling was repeated, while the bands played continuously the “Inter- national.” Long ranks of mounted troups passed, blocks of them; each time I though the end had come, more swung into sight around the bend of the street. Finally, I gave up my re- view of the Labor parade and went home to rest, while they seemed to go on endlessly,—and I hope this is sym- bolical—in their great demonstration against Capitalist war. This morning, in an aimless ramble, I skirted the walls of the Kremlin in THE WORLD’S BITTERS below. Enclosed is $1.85. LIPSEY’S BITTERS at once. 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In the humanized tomorrow, no man of genius will repeat but with deep humiliation those callous sentences of Oscar Wilde’s: “The poor are poor creatures and must be hewers of wood and drawers of water, They are really the dung hill out of which men of genius and. artists grow like flowers. Their func- tion is to give birth to genius and nourish it. They have no other raison d’e ” - Haven't they? ws. GREATEST TONIC for lowered vitality makes your blood tingle with. joy the minute you taste it. Take a wine glass full of PSEY before meals and note the improvement of your health in a few days. Order a bottle by coupon LIPSEY PRODUCTS Co. 1133 Foster Ave., Chicago Please send one bottle of oney Back Guarantee By Anna Porter the little terraced purns of the park that surrounds them. The park-strip was full of people but most of them were occupied, in a leisurely way. Children played about under the trees. The long grass and weeds had just been cut with the traditional sickle, and students and young intellectuals lay about reading or discussing -with open books. It had a restful withdrawn atmosphere, very pleasant in contrast with the confusion of the streets; for everywhere I go,—in the streets, the shops, the officies and bureaus,—I feel that things are out of order, and that everyone is working evry hard to get them in order again. The streets are kept clean, nothing is really disor- dered, I find plan and system every- where, but there.is the feeling you have at home when the rugs are up and the furniture moved into useless corners and you sit on the chair-arms, But you know it is getting into order, and you don’t’ mind for awhile. There is a sense of impermanence and tran- sition with a clear object ahead. Mos- cow is getting into order,—Russia is getting into order,—you feel that everywhere, in spite of what seems to be—and is—confusion. A company of red soldiers, in dust- colored uniforms and peaked caps with the army-star in front, and with camping. blankets slung across their shoulfiers, have just passed by, sing- ing lustily, and in their wake a clear- ing thunder-shower is sweeping up the street. -—— -— CLEVELAND, OHIO CHIROPRACTIC AND ELECTRO-THERAPY As intelligent and revolutiona: worke' you have freed yourselves of the trate mels of capitalistic retigion and politics. But you probably still adhere to the greatest and most harmful superstition, cloaked as a science—MEDICINE. P. ple who know refuse to be practiced upon wate katte a pore oer ‘When ill ey resor' ° rugless) NA METHODS of treatment. by cae For a speedy recovery and your health’s - sake see Dr. J. J. SCHOLTES 2838 West Twenty-fifth St., Cor. Wade Phone Linc. 5340 ror INSURANCE or ANY KIND CARL BRODSKY 1123 Broadway, New York City Tel. Watkins 3626. Subscribe for “Your Daily,” the DAILY WORKER. —