I have a dream

This morning, of all mornings, I leapt from my bed full of joy and hope for the future.

Picture it, my friends comrades! Edward Miliband in Number Ten, President Balls in Buckingham Palace. Britain leading Le Plus Grand Projet forward into the long-foretold flowering of Socialism, when sisters across the entire continent will be brothers! *

I see the last worker laying down her tools and running smiling to the altar of Glorious Saint Harriet, there to receive her very own token of the wonderful reward foretold by Prophets Marx and Serwotka, the communion awaiting every one of the proletarian faithful: a tiny faux-silver platter bearing the shrunken head of a banker nestling in a bed of now-abolished despised 'banknotes' - a riot of colour! It will look lovely on the sideboard, Mother.

Street-parties across all the former and now obsolete nations will celebrate worker-control of… everything! Only of course there will be no actual workers. Sod that. Big Brother can pay, out of all that confiscated capital. For a while, at any rate.

Yes, yes, tsk - look, there are flaws in everything if you look for them but let us not be small-minded about this, comrades. All things are possible because the workers, united, can never be defeated! Rise up and share my dream! Riot Now!

None of this will come about, friends comrades unless we all work for the Glorious Day. It is our duty and I shall not flinch. I'm off right now to the local Labour Party Rooms to join up. Then it's on to the local UK Uncut squat for Chablis and nachos sponsored by Polly Toynbee. Day One of the Revolution! Yay! Vote Labour! Come on, you re-Eds!

'The People's Flag is deepest red... ' Anyone know the rest of the words?

A worker toasts the death of capitalism.

* and vice versa. No discrimination here, comrade.