Manifesto of the Communist Party
A spectre is haunting Europe — the spectre of communism. All the powers of old Europe have entered into a holy alliance to exorcise this spectre: Pope and Tsar, Metternich and Guizot, French Radicals and German police-spies.

Where is the party in opposition that has not been decried as communistic by its opponents in power? Where is the opposition that has not hurled back the branding reproach of communism, against the more advanced opposition parties, as well as against its reactionary adversaries?

Two things result from this fact:

I. Communism is already acknowledged by all European powers to be itself a power.

II. It is high time that Communists should openly, in the face of the whole world, publish their views, their aims, their tendencies, and meet this nursery tale of the Spectre of Communism with a manifesto of the party itself.

To this end, Communists of various nationalities have assembled in London and sketched the following manifesto, to be published in the English, French, German, Italian, Flemish and Danish languages.

Chapter I. Bourgeois and Proletarians(1)
[German Original]

The history of all hitherto existing society(2) is the history of class struggles.

Freeman and slave, patrician and plebeian, lord and serf, guild-master(3) and journeyman, in a word, oppressor and oppressed, stood in constant opposition to one another, carried on an uninterrupted, now hidden, now open fight, a fight that each time ended, either in a revolutionary reconstitution of society at large, or in the common ruin of the contending classes.

In the earlier epochs of history, we find almost everywhere a complicated arrangement of society into various orders, a manifold gradation of social rank. In ancient Rome we have patricians, knights, plebeians, slaves; in the Middle Ages, feudal lords, vassals, guild-masters, journeymen, apprentices, serfs; in almost all of these classes, again, subordinate gradations.

The modern bourgeois society that has sprouted from the ruins of feudal society has not done away with class antagonisms. It has but established new classes, new conditions of oppression, new forms of struggle in place of the old ones.

Our epoch, the epoch of the bourgeoisie, possesses, however, this distinct feature: it has simplified class antagonisms. Society as a whole is more and more splitting up into two great hostile camps, into two great classes directly facing each other — Bourgeoisie and Proletariat.

From the serfs of the Middle Ages sprang the chartered burghers of the earliest towns. From these burgesses the first elements of the bourgeoisie were developed.

The discovery of America, the rounding of the Cape, opened up fresh ground for the rising bourgeoisie. The East-Indian and Chinese markets, the colonisation of America, trade with the colonies, the increase in the means of exchange and in commodities generally, gave to commerce, to navigation, to industry, an impulse never before known, and thereby, to the revolutionary element in the tottering feudal society, a rapid development.

The feudal system of industry, in which industrial production was monopolised by closed guilds, now no longer sufficed for the growing wants of the new markets. The manufacturing system took its place. The guild-masters were pushed on one side by the manufacturing middle class; division of labour between the different corporate guilds vanished in the face of division of labour in each single workshop.

Meantime the markets kept ever growing, the demand ever rising. Even manufacturer no longer sufficed. Thereupon, steam and machinery revolutionised industrial production. The place of manufacture was taken by the giant, Modern Industry; the place of the industrial middle class by industrial millionaires, the leaders of the whole industrial armies, the modern bourgeois.

Modern industry has established the world market, for which the discovery of America paved the way. This market has given an immense development to commerce, to navigation, to communication by land. This development has, in its turn, reacted on the extension of industry; and in proportion as industry, commerce, navigation, railways extended, in the same proportion the bourgeoisie developed, increased its capital, and pushed into the background every class handed down from the Middle Ages.

We see, therefore, how the modern bourgeoisie is itself the product of a long course of development, of a series of revolutions in the modes of production and of exchange.

Each step in the development of the bourgeoisie was accompanied by a corresponding political advance of that class. An oppressed class under the sway of the feudal nobility, an armed and self-governing association in the medieval commune(4): here independent urban republic (as in Italy and Germany); there taxable “third estate” of the monarchy (as in France); afterwards, in the period of manufacturing proper, serving either the semi-feudal or the absolute monarchy as a counterpoise against the nobility, and, in fact, cornerstone of the great monarchies in general, the bourgeoisie has at last, since the establishment of Modern Industry and of the world market, conquered for itself, in the modern representative State, exclusive political sway. The executive of the modern state is but a committee for managing the common affairs of the whole bourgeoisie.

The bourgeoisie, historically, has played a most revolutionary part.

The bourgeoisie, wherever it has got the upper hand, has put an end to all feudal, patriarchal, idyllic relations. It has pitilessly torn asunder the motley feudal ties that bound man to his “natural superiors”, and has left remaining no other nexus between man and man than naked self-interest, than callous “cash payment”. It has drowned the most heavenly ecstasies of religious fervour, of chivalrous enthusiasm, of philistine sentimentalism, in the icy water of egotistical calculation. It has resolved personal worth into exchange value, and in place of the numberless indefeasible chartered freedoms, has set up that single, unconscionable freedom — Free Trade. In one word, for exploitation, veiled by religious and political illusions, it has substituted naked, shameless, direct, brutal exploitation.

The bourgeoisie has stripped of its halo every occupation hitherto honoured and looked up to with reverent awe. It has converted the physician, the lawyer, the priest, the poet, the man of science, into its paid wage labourers.

The bourgeoisie has torn away from the family its sentimental veil, and has reduced the family relation to a mere money relation.

The bourgeoisie has disclosed how it came to pass that the brutal display of vigour in the Middle Ages, which reactionaries so much admire, found its fitting complement in the most slothful indolence. It has been the first to show what man’s activity can bring about. It has accomplished wonders far surpassing Egyptian pyramids, Roman aqueducts, and Gothic cathedrals; it has conducted expeditions that put in the shade all former Exoduses of nations and crusades.

The bourgeoisie cannot exist without constantly revolutionising the instruments of production, and thereby the relations of production, and with them the whole relations of society. Conservation of the old modes of production in unaltered form, was, on the contrary, the first condition of existence for all earlier industrial classes. Constant revolutionising of production, uninterrupted disturbance of all social conditions, everlasting uncertainty and agitation distinguish the bourgeois epoch from all earlier ones. All fixed, fast-frozen relations, with their train of ancient and venerable prejudices and opinions, are swept away, all new-formed ones become antiquated before they can ossify. All that is solid melts into air, all that is holy is profaned, and man is at last compelled to face with sober senses h

MALE NARRATOR:

MALE VOICE: Holidays, the whole world loves them.

(CHUCKLES) That's why there are so many.

Christmas.

Easter.

Hanukkah.

The one thing they all have in common...

...food, like Thanksgiving.

That's what it's all about.

A time to sit down over the holiday meal.

It's everyone's favorite part.

Unless of course, you are the meal.

(SCREAMING)

(CONTINUES SCREAMING) My name is Reggie, by the way.

I'm the turkey screaming for his life.

Ah! Ah!

REGGIE: Thanksgiving is a turkey's worst nightmare.

And trust me, I've tried to warn them.

(GRUNTS) You don't get it!

They're fattening us up so they can eat us!

It's such a beautiful day. This is the best day ever!

Probably the best day of my life.

Hey, corn! ALL: - Corn!

REGGIE: And every year, they don't listen.

I'm not gonna dress it up. Turkeys are dumb.

Corn. Corn.

Really dumb. (CHUCKLES)

MALE VOICE: Hey, guys, check it out.

(GASP) (ALL GASPING)

REGGIE: Turkeys are so dumb, they think the farmer's their friend.

He's so cool! He's the best.

He's so nice. I love the farmer!

(GULPS) Hey!

(CHUCKLES) Percy's going to turkey paradise!

(LAUGHS)

BOTH: Turkey paradise...

Go, Percy, you lucky son of a g*n!

REGGIE: See what I mean?

But the truth is, I've always been a little bit different.

From the very beginning, I never felt like I fit in.

(CHIRPING) Our world is made of corn.

(ALL GASPING) Leafy corn.

ALL: - Oh! Corn-corn!

(ALL GASP) f*re corn!

That's an awesome theory, but I think they actually call that the sun.

Out! Out!

REGGIE: But I kept trying...

FEMALE VOICE: - Yeah... no. Hey, Aspen.

Your wings must be tired because it looks like you flew straight out of heaven.

Seriously? (LAUGHTER)

You wanna fly, Bobby?

I guess it's just you and me. b*at it, weirdo!

Yeah, that's what I thought!

REGGIE: ...and trying. (ALL SNORING)

When you're in a flock, you know you belong...

...to something bigger, that you're not alone.

(ALL GROANING) Reggie, it's chilly!

Reggie, you're cold!

Get out of here, Reggie!

At least that's what I hear.

(HELICOPTER BLADES THUMPING) (ALL SHOUTING)

(HELICOPTER BLADES THUMPING) (ALL SHOUTING)

Listen up! Reggie's been right all along.

They are fattening us up so they can eat us.

They're right outside!

Finally, after all these years! That's what I've been waiting to hear.

"Reggie was right."

Now I don't want to go toot my own horn, but toot-toot!

Okay, now, here's the plan. When they open the doors, we run for the hills.

Go, team!

Give them Reggie!

What? Yeah! Give them Reggie!

He's the Anticorn!

Whoa, whoa! You got it all wrong!

MALE VOICE: Let's give them Reggie. Sacrifice him.

We gotta stick together on this!

(GRUNTS)

(SCREAMS) See you later, Reggie!

REGGIE: So after all that, I was about to become Thanksgiving dinner.

No, no! Please! I beg you! We are all clear.

No! Ah! MAN: - Ladies and Gentlemen...

...the President of the United States.

Thank you all for being here today.

REGGIE: - Or was I? ...and to this humble family farm for one of my favorite presidential traditions.

The pardoning of the Thanksgiving Turkey.

Only one special bird will be spared from this terrible, yet delicious fate.

Daddy! Daddy, it's this one. This is the one I want right here.

Sweetheart, I think we're gonna go with a bigger turkey, okay?

Please? Please, please, please, please!

Sweetheart, I love you. Please! Please!

That turkey's not big enough.

Now, now don't do that.

No, no, no.

(SOBBING) (REPORTERS CLAMORING)

This is your pardoned turkey. Happy Thanksgiving, little fella.

(CAMERAS CLICKING)

Come on, birdie, let's go. We're going to the helicopter.

And right over there is a fence. And that's a seagull.

And there's a cow and a chicken.

And that's Paul. He's getting a divorce.

Yay!

That's a bald guy and that's the girl who likes my daddy.

But don't tell anyone.

(HELICOPTER ENGINE STARTS)

(GASPS)

GIRL: Birdie...

...don't worry, you're safe.

You're the pardoned turkey.

(GIGGLES) I'm tired now.

I'm the pardoned turkey.

I'm the pardoned turkey! I'm gonna live!

I'm gonna live, I'm the pardoned turkey!

This is bl*wing my mind!

REGGIE: Turns out my life wasn't over and a whole new life was just beginning.

Turkey, turkey, turkey.

This is your new home, turkey.

Mr. President, you have returned to Camp David.

That's General Sagan. He's got issues.

(GIGGLES)

That's Marcia. She eats her feelings.

We're gonna have so much fun.

I promise, I will never, ever leave you.

Oh, wait, TV!

(MUSIC PLAYS ON TV)

I'm tired now.

(expl*si*n ON TV) Ah! Oh! (GASPS) Ah!

(YELLING, WHOOPING ON TV)

NARRATOR: Previously on Mundo del Amor...

What is this?

NARRATOR: One-eyed orphan, Alejandro, is thrown out of the orphanage for being different.

They threw him out, too.

I know exactly how that feels.

NARRATOR: Rejected by all, Alejandro lives alone in the streets of Tijuana.

Until one day, he becomes a man.

Oh, man! Whoa!

NARRATOR: Are you having a hunger emergency?

I am!

- Do you need to eat right now? I do!

- Well, we can save the day with pizza! Yes!

That looks way better than corn.

Call 1-800-PIZZA. Get pizza delivered right now.

(GOBBLING) What?

Whoa.

NARRATOR: Alejandro starts his new company...

El Solo Lobo and makes a million pesos.

He buys a jet, he buys a tiger, and becomes Tijuana's greatest lover.

(SPEAKING SPANISH)

(WOLF HOWLS) El Solo Lobo.

REGGIE: I always thought being part of a flock was what I wanted.

But maybe I was wrong.

Yeah! (HOWLS)

(CHATTERING FROM TV)

Whoa! Oh, hey, dude.

REGGIE: A warm bed...

(YELLS)

...TV, and all the pizza I could eat.

I finally had it all. Everything was perfect.

(PANTING)

NARRATOR: Will Alejandro ever find true love or is he destined to be alone forever?

(YAWNS) Sounds like a pretty good destiny to me, Alejandro.

Find out on the next Mundo del Amor.

This is your destiny. REGGIE: (MUFFLED SHOUT)

(MUFFLED SHOUTING CONTINUES)

(MUFFLED SHOUTING) Oh...

Whatever you do, do not make a sound.

(SCREAMS) Sh...

I'm Jake from the TFF. That's Turkey Freedom Front.

You've just been recruited for a top secret mission.

Ah! Help! I'm being kidnapped by a wild turkey!

Security! Set Tasers to k*ll!

Ah!

(GRUNTS) MAN: What was that?

Oh! Love your enthusiasm, comrade.

Dah!

But you're running in the wrong direction.

Besides, we're already behind schedule.

We're behind schedule? We are?

Why didn't you say so? Let's move!

REGGIE: Look, I think you have me confused with somebody else.

I'm not part of any mission.

Horizon seems clear.

Hold on. Hey, wait!

It's me, the pardoned turkey. Help me!

A strange rogue turkey. Stay back. I'll take him out.

Ah!

Please don't hurt me. I don't know who you are but you're seriously jeopardizing this operation.

Are you insane? It's me.

Is it? Is it really?

Would you get off me?!

(GRUNTING)

You know what? I'm sick of you throwing me around.

You see this line?

Do not come into my personal...

Did you not see the line?

'Cause I was pretty clear that it's right...

Snap out of it, Reggie.

Wait, how do you know my name?

Because he told me everything about you.

He? Who is he?

The Great Turkey. He appeared in the sky on a bright ball of light with a voice that came from everywhere.

He gave me my mission, told me I needed to find you.

And then, he gave me this.

A door knob?

The sacred time knob.

This guy is a lunatic. Oh!

That secret military base should be right up ahead.

(GRUNTING)

The facility should be in here.

Just need to figure out how to get past this impenetrable gate.