You imagine them standing on your lawn. Not dangerous men with weapons — no, you see them in overalls, carrying props they picked out at a costume shop, rehearsing their lines for what they call "The Great Redistribution Piece." They have a choreographer and a director of operations and the entire plan is choreographed down to who opens which door and when. You watch from your window as they assemble their elaborate stage set on your front lawn — a makeshifter's picnic table with a sign that reads "THE PEOPLE'S KITCHEN" in hand-painted letters, each man wearing a t-shirt that says something like "I'm Not A Threat, I'm An Asset."
And then you realize the whole thing is theater. The "gang of thugs" isn't threatening your family — they're performing a piece of performance art about what it would look like if someone actually tried to redistribute anything from your house. They aren't planning to steal your stuff; they've already been given permission by your lawyer to take whatever you don't want, and the "menacing" plan is just a script for a video essay that will be uploaded to YouTube tomorrow with 15 minutes of pre-roll advertising.
That's what socialism looks like when it's performed by people who have never had anything taken from them — it's a carefully staged production where everyone knows the lines, nobody's actually in danger, and the only thing being redistributed is the attention span of anyone watching the performance.
