A multitude of intelligent honey bees can be confused, hopelessly confused, at swarming time, simply by beating an empty tin pan or drum near them and calling loudly the almost patriotically stupid word, “Boowah! Boowah! Woowah! Woowah!” And, indeed, down on the old home farm in Ohio we often “brain-stormed” our swarming bees by just such simple means—in order to hold them in slavery and thus have them near and tame. We wished to rob them when they worked—later on. This device works perfectly in human society also. The capitalist class use this method with great success on the human honey bees, the working class. Millions of intelligent working men can be confused—and more easily robbed later on—simply by flattering them carefully and then beating a drum near them and cunningly calling out the pleasingly empty words, “The Flag! The Flag! Patriotism! Patriotism! Brave boys!” Bewildered moths rush into a flame of fire because it _is_ bright. Bewildered working people rush to war and singe their own happiness, snuff out their own lives—like moths—because war is _painted_ bright. In the shining candle flame moths virtually commit suicide. In the glittering “glory” of war multitudes of the working class practically commit suicide. This will be clearer to you as you read these chapters. Brother, let me help you tear the mask off this legalized outrage against the working class, this huge and “_glorious_” crime called war. At this horrible “Death’s feast” we working people spit in one another’s faces, we scream in wild rage at one another, we curse and kill our own working class brothers, we foolishly wallow in our own blood and desolate our own homes—simply because we are craftily ordered to do so. Thus we are both savage and ridiculous. Ridiculous did I say? Yes, ridiculous. That word ridiculous sounds like a harsh word—doesn’t it? But, remember, in _all_ wars the working class are always meanly belittled, wronged—outraged. We are the plucked geese in January—patriotically. When we working people hear a fife and drum and see some handsomely dressed, well-fed military officers and see their long butcher-knives called swords—our confused hearts beat fast, our blood becomes blindly and suicidally hot and eager.... Look out, brother! Take care! Remember: Always in all wars everywhere the working class are confused, bewildered—then shrewd people make tools, mules, fools, and foot-stools of us! “Follow the flag!” sounds good—but strikes blind the working class. “Follow the flag!” sounds brave and grand. Very. “Follow the flag!” is wine for the brain—of the working class. “Follow the flag!” makes millions of our class blind and useable. “Follow the flag!” stirs a savage passion cunningly called “patriotism.” “Follow the flag!” _never_ confuses a man wearing a silk hat. “Follow the flag!” is bait laid for fools, “rot” fed to mules, by every tyrant king, tsar and president at the head of governments used by the industrial ruling class.[3]