The Laboring Men

Fine; it's been a year.

And where have I been, you say? You want your apology? For all your pain and your life that isn't my damn fault, dammit? You want your blankey, for God's sake? Fine. Let's just say that myself and The Dutch came to an understanding between gentlemen.
After making a substantial donation to their organization, I was allowed to leave my filthy garrett in The Hague, to decamp to Bad Spa, in Germany. Despite the name, it is actually quite good, as most German things are.

As a condition of The Agreement, I no longer have to do this. I am doing this out of the goodness of my heart and because I am honor-bound to do so. I don't believe I've ever seen any of You People do the same for Me! You act like you invented Ethics, or something. I did that, you bastards!

Now, it has been brought to my attention that there are some of you out there who feel that I have used the rest of you badly, in my efforts to acquire Wealth. That maybe those of you who did The Digging didn't really get what you might have, considering what fortunes were made. Well, I would gladly have given you a Christmas Party. That doesn't mean you had to...Oh God...

WHY MUST YOU TRADE-UNIONIZE? It is unconscionable to me that this arrangement we had would be unacceptable to you! We were like Family, with Me the Father and you The Help! Don't you remember the Good Old Days, when we made hay while the sun shone and at Midnight as well? A lot of good people got rich, and a lot of You People were employed!

And right about the time when you were going to get everything you asked for -no, no sense it looking for it now: you spoiled it- you just had to go and Syndicalize, didn't you? The Market would have eventually got around to you. It's smarter than you, and knows what you need. It just does not do to have you get it too soon.

So, profit-sharing, the forty-hour work-week, "benefits"? Child-rearing leave? Not having eight-year-olds mining coal? A Pilates dungeon in every break room? Breaks? You wanted these things? Well, why didn't you ask? It's this kind of immature behavior on your part that makes us get in fights like this, and I'm sorry that you feel you need to be this way about it.
No; if the only way that I am to lose complete control is by ceding minor aspects of control to some damned Intermediaries, I will simply locate my plants on Ursa Major. I can do that, you know.

No, no. Your destiny and Mine is intertwined, and have always been as such. I can no longer leave this place that provided us with Uranium and Plutonium than you can turn your back on cheap domestic Brew. You and I are stuck here together, and we may wish to make some sort of entente cordiale. It is mandatory at a minimum that I keep things being dug up and turned into other things, then packaged in some sort of way and thence conveyed to a marketplace. You? You need...TO STOP COMPLAINING, IS WHAT YOU NEED TO DO!
No: you need to put food on your families, and take them to the World of Disney. You need to continue to make babies. Please stop engaging in activities that do not result in the making of babies, in fact. For this, I recognize that you must eat. Then, the babies are born, and then they must eat! Would you like a job making Food? I hear tell that it's a growth industry!

Some break time has been designated as a thing that may keep a person healthy enough to go back to work. You need a Vacation! It is said too that war is good for the soul/Economy. Please stop engaging in things that might make a person not want to go to war. War makes jobs, and people always breed more right after them. And please: take a break, why doncha? Take a load off!

I respectfully request that you stop telling me what to pay you. I know- Feudalism remains a fresh memory in many of your minds, as does Slavery. This does not mean that you need to bleed dry your Papa, Who Loves You Very Much. I made a place for you to come and be. To do, and I'm not certain that you would have gone and done that on your own. It's possible that I know more than you do: just entertain the option.

We are two sides of a coin that I own more of; let's put it that way. No, let's don't put it that way. Perhaps let it be said instead that The Unions are just an extension of Me. They take from you to fight Me, or so they say. They are often in talks with Management/ are an extention of Management/ Are Management? Perhaps. It would seem that all things eventually turn into something that I can work with.

Not to say that you shouldn't do it! No, no! You should trade-unionize all you want! Chant slogans! Wave signs! Form a picket! Whatever it is You People do when you're not fighting wars and making babies!
Just remember who gave you Labor Day. Just remember who gave you everything you asked for... Eventually, after a lot of litigation.

Remember who stopped lynching you, finally. Castrating your wives and whatnot (I'm sorry if that wasn't exactly what happened: My Thugs don't often get specific about exactly what it is they do in order to see to it that Copper gets smelted, for example). Recall if you will that these days the Government is forcing you to Eat Healthy. I enjoyed sausage the way it was made in the 1890's, but hey- The Law's The Law, right?

No, you just go and do your little thing now. The check's in the mail. I'm sorry, but at least you're not Chinese.