Subversive

Dallas McCord Reynolds
Subversive, by Dallas McCord
Reynolds

The Project Gutenberg EBook of Subversive, by Dallas McCord
Reynolds This eBook is for the use of anyone anywhere at no cost and
with almost no restrictions whatsoever. You may copy it, give it away
or re-use it under the terms of the Project Gutenberg License included
with this eBook or online at www.gutenberg.org
Title: Subversive
Author: Dallas McCord Reynolds
Illustrator: Schoenherr
Release Date: October 26, 2007 [EBook #23197]
Language: English
Character set encoding: ISO-8859-1
*** START OF THIS PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK
SUBVERSIVE ***

Produced by Greg Weeks, Stephen Blundell and the Online Distributed
Proofreading Team at http://www.pgdp.net

Transcriber's Note:

This etext was produced from Analog December 1962. Extensive
research did not uncover any evidence that the U.S. copyright on this
publication was renewed. Minor spelling and typographical errors have
been corrected without note. Subscript characters are shown within
{braces}.

Subversive
"Subversive" is, in essence, a negative term--it means simply "against
the existent system." It doesn't mean subversives all agree ...
by Mack Reynolds
Illustrated by Schoenherr
The young man with the brown paper bag said, "Is Mrs. Coty in?"
"I'm afraid she isn't. Is there anything I can do?"
"You're Mr. Coty? I came about the soap." He held up the paper bag.
"Soap?" Mr. Coty said blankly. He was the epitome of mid-aged
husband complete to pipe, carpet slippers and office-slump posture.
"That's right. I'm sure she told you about it. My name's Dickens.
Warren Dickens. I sold her--"
"Look here, you mean to tell me in this day and age you go around
from door to door peddling soap? Great guns, boy, you'd do better on
unemployment insurance. It's permanent now."
Warren Dickens registered distress. "Mr. Coty, could I come in and tell
you about it? If I can make the first delivery to you instead of Mrs.
Coty, shucks, it'll save me coming back."
Coty led him back into the living room, motioned him to a chair and
settled into what was obviously his own favorite, handily placed before

the telly. Coty said tolerantly, "Now then, what's this about selling soap?
What kind of soap? What brand?"
"Oh, it has no name, sir. That's the point."
The other looked at him.
"That's why we can sell it for three cents a cake, instead of
twenty-five." Dickens opened the paper bag and fished out an ordinary
enough looking cake of soap and handed it to the older man.
Mr. Coty took it, stared down at it, turned it over in his hands. He was
still blank. "Well, what's different about it?"
[Illustration]
"There's nothing different about it. It's the same as any other soap."
"I mean, how come you sell it for three cents a cake, and what's the fact
it has no name got to do with it?"
Warren Dickens leaned forward and went into what was obviously a
strictly routine pitch. "Mr. Coty, have you ever considered what you're
buying when they nick you twenty-five cents on your credit card for a
bar of soap in an ultra-market?"
There was an edge of impatience in the older man's voice. "I buy soap!"
"No, sir. That's your mistake. What you buy is a telly show, in fact
several of them, with all their expensive comedians, singers, musicians,
dancers, news commentators, network vice presidents, and all the rest.
Then you buy fancy packaging. You'll note, by the way, that our
product hasn't even a piece of tissue paper wrapped around it. Fancy
packaging designed by some of the most competent commercial artists
and motivational research men in the country. Then you buy
distribution. From the factory all the way to the retail ultra-market
where your wife shops. And every time that bar of soap goes from one
wholesaler or distributor to another, the price roughly doubles. You

also buy a brain trust whose full time project is to keep you using their
soap and not letting their competitors talk you into switching brands.
The brain trust, of course, also works on luring away the competitor's
customers to their product. Shucks, Mr. Coty, practically none of that
twenty-five cents you spend to buy a cake of soap goes for soap. So
small a percentage that you might as well forget about it."
Mr. Coty was obviously taken aback. "Well, how do I know this
nameless soap you're peddling is, well, any good?"
Warren Dickens sighed deeply, and in such wise that it was obvious
that he had so sighed before. "Sir, there is no difference between soaps.
Oh, they might use a slightly different perfume, or tint it a slightly
different color, but for all practical purposes common hand soap,
common bath soap, is soap, period. All the stuff the copy writers dream
up about secret ingredients and health for your skin,
Continue reading on your phone by scaning this QR Code

 / 13
Tip: The current page has been bookmarked automatically. If you wish to continue reading later, just open the Dertz Homepage, and click on the 'continue reading' link at the bottom of the page.