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You ever buy a t-shirt that looks really cool, but then you wear it for a while and it really chaffs on your skin, so you rub some calamine lotion on your abrasions, but then a few weeks later your doctor tells you that you've got chlamydia? Lord knows I have.
Well let me assure you that none of my shirt designs, least of all the one I'm about to unveil, will cause such a predicament to befall you. In fact, many new age healers believe that Good Rubbish shirts, when properly wrapped around popsicle sticks and used as urethra swabs, are the most effective treatment available for severe chlamydia. Many new age healers also believe that that last sentence was the most horrible thing I've ever written.
Rest assured that this will be the last time I go to WebMD for inspiration on writing an intro. Just consider yourself lucky that I didn't go off on a 5 minute long tangent about nongonococcal urethritis. Seriously, I was THIS close to doing that.
(abrupt transition)
So I just finished up a new shirt design that should have all my homeboys from the Eastern Bloc scrambling for their rubles. It's something of an homage to my favorite tragic historical figure, friend of the people Leon Trotsky. Dig it:
Now who can argue with a message like that? You can find all the new merchandise here
For those of you who aren't familiar with Soviet history, Trotsky was Vladimir Lenin's right hand man during the October 1917 Bolshevik revolutions that overthrew the Russian monarchy, laid the foundation for the formation of the Soviet Union, and launched the career of Yakov Schmirnoff.
Unfortunately, following the death of Lenin and the rise of Joseph Stalin, Trotsky was forced to flee from the Soviet Union due to the fact that Stalin wanted to murder him (this was a common problem among Russians who weren't already incarcerated in forced labor camps). Eventually, while Trotsky was holed up in Mexico of all places, Stalin succeeded in his quest (from Wikipedia, and get ready to hold your sides, because this tale's a real knee slapper!):
On August 20, 1940, Trotsky was successfully attacked in his home by a NKVD agent, Ramón Mercader, who smashed the pick of an ice axe into Trotsky's skull.
The blow was poorly delivered and failed to kill Trotsky instantly, as Mercader had intended. Witnesses stated that Trotsky spat on Mercader and began struggling fiercely with him. Hearing the commotion, Trotsky's bodyguards burst into the room and nearly killed Mercader, but Trotsky stopped them, shouting, "Do not kill him! This man has a story to tell." Trotsky was taken to a hospital, operated on, and survived for more than a day, dying at the age of 60 on August 21, 1940 as a result of severe brain damage. Mercader later testified at his trial:
"I laid my raincoat on the table in such a way as to be able to remove the ice axe which was in the pocket. I decided not to miss the wonderful opportunity that presented itself. The moment Trotsky began reading the article, he gave me my chance; I took out the ice axe from the raincoat, gripped it in my hand and, with my eyes closed, dealt him a terrible blow on the head."
According to James P. Cannon, the secretary of the Socialist Workers Party (USA), Trotsky's last words were "I will not survive this attack. Stalin has finally accomplished the task he attempted unsuccessfully before."
Funny, huh??? Actually, it really isn't... I can think of few notable historical figures who have died in a more horrible manner than my homeboy Trotsky, but for whatever reason his death has become something of a punchline amongst history majors and scholarly types. Why? I don't know, probably because those people are the dregs of society. Damned history majors with their books and obscure references... honestly, where do they get off? Onto a 17th century painting of Queen Anne of Great Britian, that's where.
So yeah, considering all the man went through, I feel that the very least you could do would be to honor his memory by purchasing some crap with his head printed on it. Wouldn't you agree?
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