~ Caramel Marks, Equestrian philosopher

Every morning she would arrive at the hay factory, put a mess of electrodes resembling a scalp massager over her horn, and spend hours casting the same hay-drying spell at great bales of grass which passed by her on a conveyor belt to be later vacuum-sealed into snack packs. In the rare and precious breaks Starry would gulp down cans of cheap energy drinks in order to restore a bit of her magic before going back to her mind-numbing duties. At the end of the day she would smell like she had just rolled around in fresh hay. But despite it being an altogether agreeable smell, at this point it did nothing but irritate and make her anxious, so she always made sure to quickly wash it off and replace it with a cheap perfume the first thing she did after work.
The job paid peanuts even with overtime, barely enough for groceries and rent, and it was definitely not where Starry used to see herself. But a good magic school was expensive and not a simple affair to get into, and being from a lower income family this is where she was stuck for the time being. Drying hay, breathing hay, living hay. One thing that keep her spirits up was that at least her cutie mark wasn't that of hay. It was a telescope, and it gave her some hope that eventually she would move on to something greater. After all, hard work and more hard work and you can succeed and become anything you want, right? Right?
After leaving work and collecting her bearings, Starry would usually go hang out with her small group of mare friends, including her roommate Lucky Thimble. Usually, they would gather together to play board games, pool together food, and chat about their modest affairs. But oftentimes Lucky Thimble - an energetic, thickly bespectacled earth mare of many interests - would come up with more exciting activities to do without taxing their meager resources too much. Such as going outside the town to gather magical herbs in a nearby forest and make potions. Though sometimes those activities could get a little crazy and even dangerous, Starry treasured them as a break from numb mundanity and was grateful for Lucky being there and coming up with them.
That day, the group received a message from Lucky Thimble inviting them to gather at some unmarked alleyway at 9 PM for some fashion of "surprise event". Figuring out that a fillies' night out was in order, Starry would carefully brush and perfume her blue-and-yellow streaked mane (which was still impeccably soft despite constantly having hay get into it, much to her pride), pick out the best dress out of the two that she owned, and carefully portion what was left of her sad pile of interbits for the month.
When she had arrived to the designated spot, however, the venue surprised her. An unassuming watering hole in some basement down in the sticks, hidden in a dark alleyway that has never been touched by the broom of a street sweeper. A strange place to hold a party in, even for the likes of Starry and her friends, who weren’t completely desperate. It was more the kind of establishment that would be favored by lawneaters and ponies of less than lawful standing. Was it some kind of a prank? Starry wasn’t thrilled about even approaching the place, but eventually took a deep breath and descended the stairs into the dimly lit smoke-filled premises.
She was surprised to find out that the bar was quite crowded with ponies, rather cramped even. Rows of cheap seats were set out in front of a makeshift stage, hinting at some event or presentation that was about to unfold. Game night? A few of the patrons were noticeably too well-dressed for a watering hole like this, and some of them concealed their identities with hoods and such, making Starry even more unsure about the place. But some of her worries were lifted as somehow, Lucky Thimble found her near-instantly, elbowing her way through the crowd to embrace her friend.
“Lucky? What’s with this place? I’m sure we could afford hanging out somewhere nicer…” Starry pouted.
“I sense a lack of faith! Have you ever regretted any of my hangout ideas?” the earthy-colored pony wearing large swirly glasses playfully nudged the unicorn in the side.
“Well, that time we found a giant spider cave and-“
“We do not talk about that time. Anyway, listen, to tell the truth, I haven’t called us here together just to hang out. What’s going to happen here is important. There will be a speech of sorts, you see”
“Oh, like an inspirational speaker or something?” Starry wondered. Weird place for something like that, but nevertheless an inspirational talk was something she could use.
“Something like that. Let’s take our seats as it will begin soon”
They grabbed some inexpensive light cocktails from the bar and a few little cubes of flavored salt to lick and munch on, before seating themselves. After a few minutes a stallion of about thirty took the stage, fiery eyed and with a mane of unkempt hair, wearing a huge patched coat with an unusual number of pockets. The background chatter of the patrons died down as he looked around the crowd and theatrically cleared his throat.
“Friends, most of you are must be aware why we have gathered here in the shadows, in this den of the downtrodden, away from prying eyes of the powers that be. It is because you want the truth! You want to learn things that the dark powers do NOT want you to know!” he began in a booming voice.
“Lucky, is this a cult recruitment?” Starry asked nervously.
“I am going to tell you about a certain visionary, a brilliant thinker who lived in Equestria centuries ago, who developed an immortal science which explains everything about our society, the society that we live in. Is anyone here familiar with the works of Caramel Marks?” the speaker continued. Some hooves and voices were raised in affirmative, prompting him to smile and nod approvingly.
“The works of Caramel Marks explain everything about why some ponies toil thanklessly all their lives while others feast and bask in luxury, and what we must do to change this unjust way things are.” Starry’s interest was piqued a bit, her ears perking up, “It is because of division of labor, which separates living beings into classes – workers and owners…”
“Wait! That kinda sounds like communism!” someone called out.
“Precisely! Caramel Marks developed a theory of Communism with Equine Characteristics, based on his analysis of Equestrian society.”
The audience chattered in confusion, some ponies starting to boo the speaker. “Isn’t communism like, really bad? You steal everything from successful folks so everyone starves and dies. And then things become like in Nefreedia or Mackonia?!”
“That is exactly what the rich, fat ponies on the television want you to think! But you must not let yourselves be fooled! Tell yourself – is it truly possible to follow the Elements of Harmony in a society which is ruled by greed and might-makes-right? What kindness and generosity can be shared by poor, hungry equines who are robbed by the rich day in day out?”
Starry turned to Lucky. “Are we going to be arrested?” A genuine question.
“Don’t be silly. It’s not illegal to talk about this! The rich try to suppress and slander Marksism, but it isn’t banned no. Yet anyway.” the other mare gestured calmingly.
“Still…it’s kind of weird you took us out here to listen to a political sermon,” the unicorn frowned, “That’s not the best way to blow off steam after a long day, you know. My head already hurts a bit.”
Lucky placed her hoof on Starry’s with an unusually frank and candid expression, taking the latter aback. “Sorry, but it’s important to me. And it’s important to me that you know! Big, big changes are coming!”
“Lucky…”
The speaker continued for hours, managing to captivate his audience with his fiery delivery and big words. He spoke about how the rich stole the fruits of labor from the workers, how their labor was alienated, how ponies of old lived in communes and were happy. He pointed out how capitalistic greed perverted each of the principles of harmony. He blasted the government for how its policy worked in the interests of the privileged few, ignoring the good of sapientkind at large – the government still did nothing about the rise of Grogar, because there were no corporate profits to be had!
“Read Marks! Educate yourself in Marksism! And we shall build a new tomorrow!” he flourished fiercely with his foreleg, then dug deep into his pockets and started tossing hoof-fulls of red pamphlets at the crowd. Starry caught one with her telekinesis and flipped through it blankly. “The Red Mane-Festo” it was called. Lucky patted her shoulder encouragingly.
“It is a good read. Caramel Marks manages to write interestingly even on dry topics….”
“Lucky, you were a Red all of this time?”
“Yeah, maybe, so what? Is that so bad, now?”
“I don’t know…I never really thought about it, I was only told it’s bad. I need to think about so much…I think I’m starting to have a migraine.”
---
When Starry came home, at first she placed the pamphlet down and decided to forget about it for a while. But eventually, with some gentle encouragement from Lucky, she began to read. The ideas within, the picture of a future society free from exploitation, fascinated her. ”From everyone according to their cutie mark, to everyone according to their need” was the quote that she couldn’t get out of her head, it was what she had dreamed of for so long.
It didn’t come as a surprise to Lucky when one day Starry came to her, asking if she could also join the Workers’ Party. “I knew you’d come around, welcome to the team” she simply smiled.
Starry’s story was far from the only one like that. Thousands, millions of beings all over the country were being exposed to these new, scary and exciting ideas by an underground network of agitators and activists. They have spent too long in delirium, blind to the vast injustice and exploitation visited upon them by a small clique of the rich. But now a great mass of agitated poor and hungry began to stir to action.

“Well, comrades, I must say our agitation efforts are defying my wildest expectations.” A white mare wearing a black Prench tunic spoke as she glanced scanningly across the room. She was rather thin, almost gaunt even. Carrying herself in a cold, determined and calculating way. Most curiously, even though she was at least thirty in looks, there was no sight of any cutie mark on her flanks at all. Most of the present seemed to listen to her with some measure of deference.
She paced around a large table at which an impressively diverse crowd of a couple dozen beings were seated on an assortment of chairs and curlpads. Ponies of reach race, a couple griffons, a donkey, a kirin and even a seapony who was reclining in a large wheeled tub parked in the corner of the room. A veritable mountain of emptied tea cups heaped on the table, with assorted paperwork scattered about it.
“But do not take that to mean that we can slack off, because I tend to keep my expectations, even the wildest ones, quite low.” the mare approached the table and steepled her hooves on it, “According to my latest information, our cells in Manehattan, Moosecow and Qidou have been well-established and began reaching out to the local labor unions. Of course, it’d be unwise to let this momentum go to waste. Anyone has anything to report?”
“Well comrade Shining Path, I am pleased to report that we have successfully began distribution of our party newspapers in a number of large cities. So far, we have distributed several hundred thousand copies!” a glasses-wearing pegasus stallion with curly red hair, a fashionable goatee and the cutie mark of an ice pick spoke with indisputable pride in his voice.
“Again with the newspapers…what’s it with you and newspapers, Sky Trot? Do you think enough ponies read newspapers in this day and age that we need to focus on them so much? I mean, I like newspapers myself but…” Shining Path sighed with some exasperation.
“I’ll say! Do not diss newspapers!” Sky Trot responded with indignance, hitting his chest with his hoof, “Do you think ponies actually read stuff on the internet?! No! They are too distracted with ads and cheap dopamine hits to truly process what is written. Newspapers are still the superior medium for thoughtful reading…”
“Fine, fine, whatever. As long as it brings results… although, I have to say, I’ve been concerned with some right-deviationist ideas in your editorials…”
“Not this again… I’ve had enough of defending myself from your accusations! If you want to know, it’s some of YOUR recent statements that I suspect of right-deviationism and perhaps even some revisionism!” Sky Trot slammed his hoof on the table with indignation.
“MINE?!” the two leaned over the table to snarl and glare daggers at each other, before another pony tried to defuse the situation by coughing and raising his hoof. A red-coated and rather strong-looking stallion with the mark of a spanner, a fine representative of the ponytariat and an influential agent of the labor unions in the North.
“Yes, Red Steel?” Shining Path turned around with a wide sickeningly sweet smile.
“Well, s’cuse me if I’m not that good at those big-sounding Marksist words…” the stallion shrugged, “But I wanted to say, I have managed to get the unions of Konevia on your side. When I get back, we hope to start a motion for a general strike. And our self-defence forces are ready to work alongside your Red Guards, as long as you don’t expect us to do all the heavy lifting. We already do plenty of heavy lifting.”
“That is wonderful news comrade,” Shining Path continued to smile cloyingly, “We appreciate the solidarity of the unions in our struggle”
“Less of a report, and more of a question really,” the perpetually depressed-looking donkey raised his hoof languidly, “All these plans are fine and dandy, sound great even, but has everypony thought about what we are going to do when the imperialists come for us with their space lasers and whatnot? I think that whatever we do, we are just going to die horribly in space-laser-fire and be replaced with reactionaries and fascists. Just being realistic and facing the facts as they are!”
“Oh Comrade Brennan, your depressing input always provides ample food for thought. Of course, there is always risk of intervention, and if we do make a move to seize power, it must be a priority to capture weapons of mass destruction first. But also, a little bird told me that in case of an all-out conflict, most of the Navy will stay neutral and deter would-be intervents.” Shining Path responded, “Either way, I wouldn’t waste my time worrying about it.”
“That doesn’t address the space lasers of death, but it’s something I suppose…” the donkey sighed deeply and went silent.
A cerulean seapony with reddish-gold fins and crest stirred in her tub. “The seaponies of Marecia are divided on supporting our revolution, I’ll need something to nudge them with in the right direction. So far not everypony is convinced it’s worth the possible sacrifice”
“Later we’ll make an official statement promising to drastically reduce the amount of ocean waste dumping, should we take control of Marecia,” Shining Path said, the seapony enthusiastically nodding, “Some measure of autonomy for seaponies is also negotiable”
“Coming from you, that should sway quite a few underwater comrades!” the seapony said, clapping her flippers in approval, “I do try to focus on environmental issues when convincing folks, the situation is a real mess. We would get so much more breathing space if only we didn’t have to settle in spots where some factory isn’t dumping toxic waste right on our heads.”
“Good to hear. Now, is that everything?” Shining Path asked and after, a few moments of silence from everypony else, pointedly took the papers lying in front of her and neatly stacked them by tapping them on the table, “In that case, is anyone opposed to calling this meeting? We must get to work, comrades. The wheels of history aren’t going to set themselves in motion…”

When the new decade arrived, most thought that an era of peace and stability can finally begin. Most threats were neutralized and the nations of Mystria and Pony Lands seemed to begin to come together diplomatically through the mediation of Princess Luna.
Instead, crisis after crisis came. First the emergence of Chaos in northeastern Pony Lands, then the Winter War that rocked Silverdale, and now the rise of Grogar’s dark kingdom as well as the Alduinite Crisis. The Herd’s new government, headed by the timid and inexperienced Alpha Dewpetal Glint, came woefully underequipped to deal with the situations and decided to largely ignore them and hope they go away without upsetting the international market too much – thus entering almost a decade of stasis and virtual isolation.
But upset they did, greatly destabilizing the inter-regional markets and plunging the Herd’s export economy into a deep recession. The government, as expected, tried to fix the situation as it usually did, with tax and regulation cuts. That hardly helped matters and the worst economic crisis in decades struck the country.
Long-dormant contradictions came to surface, labor conflicts flared like never before, and dissatisfaction with the government’s inactivity, particularly in the face of the rise of Tambelon, began to spread far and wide. It started with protests, some turning into riots, backed with widespread strikes and walkouts. The government didn’t do much of anything, but the capitalists called upon mercenaries to intimidate the strikers and protestors. In response, the labor unions mobilized their armed wings and the Workers’ Party formed so-called Red Guards to patrol the streets for PMCs and provocateurs.
Soon, several major cities mainly in the regions of Konevia, Marecia, Prance and Xiaoma were engulfed by left-wing protests and uneasy standoffs between labor unions and Red Guards on one side, and PMCs with the police on the other.
So began the weeks that would shake the Pony Lands…
