The Anarchist’s Cookbook was a well-known bomb making manual, came out in the frothiest part of the radical sixties / seventies.

It quickly acquired a bad rep, though, as most of the recipes tended to blow up in the construction phase, killing the maker.

It later came out that the author of the book was the son of a known CIA agent.

All of which, I’ve begun to strongly suspect, serves as a fabulous metaphor for Marxism.