It’s Good to be the Trade King

Friends, Comrades, Countrymen, lend me your ears! As long they aren’t backed by the dollar! I joke, I joke, for today is a glorious day, comrades. Today, China has become the official Trade King of the World. We have overtaken the American, whose high-fructose lifestyle has made him logy at the drill press.

Even the once mighty German, whose fanaticism for efficiency and precision kept him up late at Die Glasswurks, when all the other Euros were quaffing wine at the café, must now kneel before the unrivaled volume, heft, and value of our aggregate exports.

Our victory should silence you reactionaries who once insisted that bald-faced capitalism with socialist characteristics was an inherent contradiction. The proletariat has risen up as one to proclaim, “Contradiction-Shmontradiction!” Be it the glorious factory worker heroically molding one thousand blunt Hello Kitty pencil sharpeners per hour, or the inspired workhouse artisan, tirelessly sewing “LV”s on to shiny pleather wallets and handbags, you, the worker, most valued member of the People’s Republic, have heaped honor on your country!

And you will not be forgotten, now that we have laurels to rest on. Effective immediately, all factory employees from Harbin to Hainan will now have one pee-pee break per day! [Deafening five-minute applause] No more wondering which is your tea jar and which is your sample jar. Pregnant workers who go into labor on the floor will be provided a white sheet and a thermos of boiling water, and may take the remainder of their shifts to swaddle their newborn revolutionary heroes [Deafening ten-minute applause].

We here at HQ have done our part, comrades, fearlessly keeping the yuan devalued in the face of all international criticism and economic sense. A hundred years ago, the imperialist Westerner might have reacted by commandeering a port city and impressing peasant-laborers into service, and kept the protesters strung out on opium. Today, so called European Trade Commissioners tiptoe in our presence, breathing vague admonitions that China ‘shoulder its fair share of demands on our trade relationship’. Relationship? We’re dating the EU now? Sorry for flooding your ports with cheap goods, baby, but we really ought to see other people. Like South America. Hot n’ spicy trade surplus, yummy!

Oh, and you Americans, with your characteristic oafish effrontery, threatening us with trade sanctions. Where do you get your bail-outs big enough to threaten the Trade King? We flick a switch, and tomorrow your idiot-in-chief has no more plastic tie cords to bundle faggots on his ranch with. One phone call, and Darth Cheney has no more duck decoys, or buckshot to blast the face of his one senile friend .

That’s just for openers, land of Mickey Mouse and deep-fried snickers bars. You have nuclear bomb – we have money bomb! One point three trillion of your snot-green frog skins, suckers. That’s a one, a three, and eleven zeroes, for you Yanks without masters in Applied Mathematics. It might not make a pretty mushroom when we drop it, and leave you microwaved like a 7-11 bean n’ cheese burrito, but when the Thai Baht is trading over the dollar, you’ll wish you had been! No more early retirement to Florida, no more living in parents’ basement so you can lease Acura and play Wii all day.

So what if we trigger world-wide financial crisis that includes China? Think we’re scared? Famine, political turmoil, social unrest, you call that Great Depression. We call it history prior to 1979.

It is regretable we must be so plainspoken, but how else to handle crumbling empires writing checks their grandchildren can’t cash? Just watch your tone around the Trade King. Tell you what. We fly in Treasury Secretary Paulson, and that joker Bernanke, first class. They pull two officials of our choosing in a rickshaw, barefoot, from the Hall of Heroes to the Gate of Heavenly Peace, then have their glued-on queues ritually shorn. Then we forget you even mentioned the s- word. The Trade King is nothing if not merciful.

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