So the Royalist Regime is goading us on to harder work and more glorious achievement!
The Completely Revolutionary Artisan's Party responds joyfully;
The workers are not afraid of honest toil- unlike the effete capitalist drones in the boardrooms and banks.....
By honest effort we cut, file, drill and forge the hard and unforgiving brass.
We grasp the nose piece firmly in the People's Pliers, and force a double bend, with the aid of the mighty Vice of Socialism, and the packing pieces of 1/16" plate.
We return to the bandsaw of irresistable force, and shape the brass to our own ends. The Constructivist Aesthetic approved by the C.R.A.P. Committee is used to guide the form and line.
Only when the nose piece has been given general assent by the Praesidium of the C.R.A.P. can it be joiined finally to the main frame.
And now we begin phase three of our Glorious 5 Year Plan. The attachment of the side pans. We like to think of these side pans as loosley affiliated satellite states of the Motherland. They will follow the Glorious Leadership of the mainframe with joyful committment to the Revolutionary cause, but freely independant to express their own aspirations and desires (within a limited up-and-down movement of 1mm). To this end, we firmly solder 1/16" O.D. brass tubes to the outside of each of the brass barrels containing the torsion bars.
We then cut lengths of 1/16" tube to fit between the end tubes, and thread a length of piano wire through. We have created hinges. A means of expression to fellow travellers in this mighty revolution.
To the hinges, we then attach 1/16" brass rods, bent to the rule of the red square and the People's Pliers.
In the centre of the mainframe, meanwhile, we solder another brass plate, whose purpose will become clear when the committee decrees.
The limits of the revolutionary empire are delineated by two more brass rails of excessive length. Then begin the laborious process of filling the pans with length upon length of glorious socialist brass rod. Are we afraid? NO! We march onward. We know now is the time to put away childish things and embrace our destiny as free, self-determining peoples.
Under the old regime, these constructions were known as 'Jail Doors'. How typical of the restrictive and oppressive capitalists!
The C.R.A.P. committe has renamed them 'Gates of Freedom'. With this new, liberating metaphor fresh in our minds, we bend to the work with will and elation. Lengths of 1/16" aluminium are called on to sacrifice themselves by being severed into small packing pieces, while the mighty brass rods are soldered into place. First one side is completed, then the workers wipe their grimy foreheads with greasy, flux-encrusted rags, knock back he first of the day's vodka ration, and tackle the other side, while roaring a glorious socialist hymn to the republic, especially written by Ian Dury. 'Reasons to be Cheerful' echoes loudly up and down the corridors of the C.R.A.P. offices, as the ends of the Gates of Freedom are finally trimmed to equality by the spinning disc of Dremelski, our director of General Cutting and Trimming.
More revolution tomorrow, comrades! All those with severely restricted pension expectations due to the folly and incompetance of avaricious self-serving beaurocrats and general unworkability of capitalism as an over-arching theory of existence, must march together and replace by the work of their own hands what the tawdry politicians have thrown away.
Meanwhile, the Gates of Freedom are given their necessary limitations. The children of the revolution must of course be kept close to the approved party line, and to that end, hard steel rod is soldered to the central plate of the mainframe, and small hoops of brass soldered within the rails lock the movements of the gates to a degree which is by decree, mutually acceptable to all parties. Dissenting rails will of course be taken outside and given a good talking to.
Hold the line, Brothers and Sisters! The end is in sight! Power will soon be fed through the throbbing brass and steel, and the Radical Revolution will slice through the dead wood of false promises, to VICTORY!