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On Friday, The New York Times ran a story detailing ‘Red Tourism,’ China’s state-sponsored propaganda theme parks that are seeing huge bumps in popularity with the government’s centennial birthday looming. To foster loyalty to the Chinese Communist Party, the country’s one and only allowed political party, state officials and land developers have teamed up to blend “patriotic education” with “eating, drinking, and having fun.” Traveling to one of these parks is considered a “pilgrimage” because, according to President Xi Jinping, every attraction contains “moral nourishment” and guides young people to establish the “correct” outlook on the world.
As a smelly West Coast liberal myself, I love communist love letters like this from American media. They bring a little red tear to my eye—though that could be a dash of blood from the tear gas coming out. The only problem with the story? Ten paragraphs in, NYT reporters had the gall to casually mention the atrocities that have befallen Chinese citizens ever since communism’s 20th century installation. Maybe they’re unaware, but criticism of the CCP is not allowed. Luckily, that one sentence was their only attempt at fair or balanced reporting, and the rest of the piece was left to take us all on a whimsical adventure of forced perspective and fear of dissidence.
Reading the piece jogged a lot of good memories for me, so I thought I would spend this Sunday taking you on a whimsical adventure, too. Last year during the 2020 Summer of Loot, the family and I decided to pack up the station wagon and head north to Portland, OR for a weekend of fun, sun, and compliance under the threat of machine guns. I gassed up the Tesla, the kids downloaded TikTok, and off we went for our own pilgrimage to Commie Land, America’s own theme park and misinformation mecca.
Personal vehicles aren’t allowed in Commie Land, so upon arrival we were herded onto a train car according to religion (I heard atheism had air conditioning so that’s what we went with) and shipped into our specific park reception camp. ANTIFA volunteers apathetically met us at our tent, issued us our Commie Land standard fatigues, and drew some blood. I assumed the blood was for a COVID test, but actually they were measuring blood sugar to make sure we had skipped breakfast—you have to be a little hungry to be allowed in the park. They then smeared my wife’s mascara and spray-painted my kids’ hair purple and green, and sent us on our way.
After a ritual swearing-in to the state, and two sun salutations to our supreme leader Bill Gates, we were free to roam about the park until dusk, at which point the siren would sound and curfew was enacted. I personally wanted to go to the Freshman Philosophy Exhibit, where a white college girl from Cape Cod explains how the ‘right kind’ of communism has never really been tried before. But it was already getting hot, and the kids were dying to go on a ride, so we zipped on over to Stock Market Crash Mountain, where the tears of capitalists losing their life’s savings refreshed us. The kids were on cloud nine and wanted to go again, but they weren’t allowed back on the ride until the entire park had an equitable opportunity to ride, which taught them a good lesson about privilege. Like Mr. Xi often says, the “red gene” must penetrate the hearts and minds of our children early and often.
At this point, the spray paint fumes were making us all a little queasy. So we decided some lunch might help, and ventured over to the commissary to get in line for our daily loaf of bread. A sweet Muslim Uighur noticed that the kids were starving and tried to sneak them a few extra crusts, but she was caught by a security guard, and the gesture ended up costing her a finger. The park’s dedication to equality made my heart swell with pride as we found a nice corner table overlooking Protestor’s Row. I needed to double check my propaganda pamphlet, but I was pretty sure a BLM parade was starting soon, and I was right. A few minutes later, four activists with megaphones and poster board were harassing me and the family while we ate, filming the entire spectacle on their iPhones. The little beads of spit flying from their mouths cooled us down like a spritzing fan as we enjoyed a meal of latent racism and white guilt. The footage of our reeducation made for a great souvenir from the gift shop later in the day!
Satisfied but still a little hungry, we then set out looking for some more rides. But soon the wife’s feet started to hurt, so we headed over to the Nike store to pick up some more comfortable shoes. One of my son’s favorite Commie Land characters, LeBron James, was outside the store taking pictures and licking boots. After a quick pic, we went inside and learned that once we had set foot in the sweatshop, the only way out was to actually make a pair of shoes ourselves. In other words, our money was no good but our labor was valuable, so we settled in and got to work. Though we weren’t paid for our effort, the lessons we learned about contribution and camaraderie were worth way more than a living wage. Nike said we could come back and work for free anytime we wanted, as they handed my son a box of Space Jam band-aids for his bleeding fingers.
When we reemerged back into the streets of the park, we realized that our forced labor had taken most of our leisure time, so we started walking back toward the front gates to catch Commie Land’s famous Martial Law Taser Light Show. As the megawatts hummed mightily in the crisp summer air, I put my arm around my wife and thought just how lucky I was to live in a country where the government took such great care of us. The family’s spirits may have been bruised and broken, but we were safe and we were good people, full of empathy, and that’s what matters most. More importantly, though, we were on the right side of history, and that’s a feeling that hyper-inflationary fiat currency just can’t buy.
So thank you, New York Times, for reminding us all how little foresight is required to do the right thing and become a communist. Without uncompromising equity, the world will never fulfill its true calling to drop all exceptionality and ambition and instead elevate the state above all else. Plus, you get to go to fun theme parks and pridefully remember history through the prism of overcoming evil and vanquishing bad guys. It’s truly a Marvel movie come to life, and it can all be yours for the low price of everything you own.
Follow TK @outkicktommy. This article was a joke: the author does not have a wife and kids, and he has never been to Commie Land, which isn’t real. The NYT article, however, is very real.