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No player thinks more highly than I do of the dedication, as well as abilities, of the very worthy gentlemen and ladies (and of course the Great and Terrible Admin) who have brought us into the present State of Dicktatorship. But different players often see the same subject in different lights; and, therefore, I hope it will not be thought disrespectful to those esteemed persons if, entertaining as I chronically do opinions of a character very opposite to theirs, I shall speak forth my sentiments freely and without reserve.


This is no time for ceremony.


Frankly, the culture of caviling and obsequious acquiescence in the Congress to a culture of servility and fear is one of awful moment to this e-country. For my own part, I consider it as nothing less than a question of e-freedom or e-slavery; and in proportion to the magnitude of the subject ought to be the freedom of the debate. It is only in this way that we can hope to arrive at truth, and fulfill the great responsibility which we hold to the free people of our country and to the international e-proletariat, the workers, soldiers, players and poets of all nations.




Possibly a portrait of PQ as a young man?



Should I keep back my opinions at such a time, through fear of giving offense, I should consider myself as guilty of treason towards my adopted country, and of an act of disloyalty toward the e-Global Anarcho-Syndicalist Movement (the eGASM), which I revere above all other silly game things.



Mr. Dicktator-du-jour, honorable minions and esteemed lackeys: it is natural for players to indulge in the illusions of hope. We are apt to shut our eyes against a painful truth, and listen to the song of that siren till she transforms us into uncouth beasts.

Is this the part of wise folk, of great spirit-warriors engaged in a great and arduous struggle for long-lasting e-liberty, full of respect for ourselves and others? Are we disposed to be of the number of those who, having eyes, see not, and, having ears, hear not, the things which so nearly concern their ludic salvation from boredom and other varieties of goldurned ho-hummy-ness?

For my part, whatever anguish of spirit it may cost, I am willing to know the whole truth; to know the worst, and to provide for it, by gum.






I have but one lamp by which my feet are guided, and that is the lamp of experience. I know of no way of judging of the future but by the past. And judging by the past, I wish to know what there has been in the conduct of the e-USA gummint for the last few years to justify those Dicky hopes with which various meta-aristos and their valets have been pleased to solace themselves and the Good and Honest People of Playerdom.


Is it that insidious smile with which our petitions for social solidarity and individual liberty has been lately received? Trust not your sly grimaces, sirs and madams; for it will prove a snare to your feet.

Good friends, let us suffer not ourselves to be betrayed with the asskisses of meta-fame. Let us ask ourselves how such ungracious reception of our petitions comports with those dank memes which, as we all know, cover our play and darken our e-land. Are dicktatorships, slanders and deceits really necessary to what must be, if it is ever to succeed, fundamentally a work of love and reconciliation?

And have we freedom-lovers shown ourselves so unwilling to be reconciled that slander, bribes and that old stick of "strict mechanics" must be called in to win back our devotion?


No. Let us not deceive ourselves, comrades and friends. Playing the Dicktatorship Game only encloses our minds and our community more and more each e-day with layers of mind-numbing hysteria.






These are the implements of subjugation; the last arguments to which tyrants resort. I ask the gentle ones, dear meta-sirs and uber-madams, what means this dicktatorial array, if its purpose be not to force us to submission? Can people of honor assign any other possible motive for it? Has the country any enemy, in this quarter of the e-world or any other, to call for all this abandonment of cherished democratic norms and the halting of the development of a more highly developed national syndicate?

No, sirs, there is none to be offered, not really, is there? This is only the Dealer's latest bitter meal for us, served up as ever by the sleep-walking zombie minions: this poisonous feast can be meant for no other purpose than to enslave us, to inject the venom of Dicktatorship into the sweet dream of Socialist Freedom.

The Good Sirs have been set up to bind and rivet upon us ever more tightly those chains which Admin has been so long forging.







My old pal Bill Galaxia asked me the other day: "PQ, what have we to oppose such anti-people shenanigans? We are an ethical bunch. Shall we try convincing argument?"

Friends, we have been trying that for the last several years.
Have we anything new to offer upon the subject? Nothing.


We have held the subject up in every light of which it is capable; but it has been all in vain.


Shall we resort to entreaty and humble supplication? And what terms shall we find which have not been already exhausted?



Let us not, I beseech you, sisters and brothers, deceive ourselves. My fellow Americans, thinking players and workers of the e-world, we have done everything that could be done to avert the shitstorm which is now upon us.


We have petitioned; we have remonstrated; we have supplicated; we have prostrated ourselves before the throne of game tweaks, and have implored the Programmer's interposition to arrest the tyrannical twists of the Dicktatorship game. Our petitions have been slighted; our remonstrances have produced additional emotional violence and virtual insult; our supplications have been disregarded; and we have been spurned, with contempt, from the boot of the Specifier!








In vain, after these things, may we indulge the fond hope of peace and reconciliation.

There is no longer any room for hope. If we wish to be free -- if we mean to preserve inviolate those inestimable privileges for which we have been so long contending --if we mean not basely to abandon the noble struggle in which the Socialist Freedom Party and its wonderful comet-like trails of friends, allies, soul-mates, drug buddies, drinking partners, casual hook-ups and secret longtime lovers have been so long engaged, and which we have pledged ourselves never to abandon until the glorious object of our contest shall be obtained -- we must fight! I repeat it, comrades, we must fight!

Today, Americans! Today, Proletarians of the e-World! TODAY, noble warriors of the spirit!!


An appeal to rise up and seize back our game and our governments with an unshakable faith in the inevitableness of a fully democratic e-state organized as an anarchist-collective is all that is left to us! There is no other path.






They tell us, friends, that we are weak; unable to cope with so formidable an adversary.

But when shall we be stronger? Will it be the next week, or the next year? Will it be when we are totally disarmed, and when a gaggle of meta-spies shall be stationed in every Party? Shall we gather strength by irresolution and inaction? Shall we acquire the means of effectual resistance by lying supinely on our backs and hugging the delusive phantom of hope, until the chains of mental slavery shall have bound us hand and foot?


Brothers and Sisters! Moms, Dads, Kids and Young Adults, Grannies and Old Farts of All Nations! Throw off the chains of mental slavery!! We are not weak if we make a proper use of those means which the Admin hath placed in our power. The hundreds and thousands of citizens, armed in the great cause of liberty, and in such a country as that which we Americans possess, are invincible by any force which a Dicktatorshippy Game can send against us.


Besides, citizens, we shall not fight our battles alone. Remember, we are not alone. There is a just People, an international cohort of wise grannies, of street-smart kids, hard-working moms and dads, free-thinking smarty-pants, immigrants and emigrants of dozens of e-nations playing as one community, sharp-as-a-tack players of all ages and sizes, who are the bedrock of all just nations, who are the noble warriors of great spirit who will rise up and raise up their friends to fight the great battle with us, just as we will fight with them against this flagitious scourge, this low and baneful pestilence of autocracy.





The great battle, dear friends, is not to the strong alone; it is to the vigilant, the active, the brave.

Besides, we have no choice.

If we were base enough to desire it, it is now too late to retire from the contest. There is no retreat but in submission and eternal e-slavery! Our chains are forged! Listen. Their loud clanking may be heard from the gentle gardens of Boston to wild mountains of Colorado!

The great struggle is inevitable -- and let it come! I repeat it, friends, let it come.









It is in vain, I say, to extenuate the matter. Our gentlemanly minions may cry, Peace, Peace -- but where there is Dicktatorship, there can never be peace. The struggle is begun! The next electoral gale that sweeps in from the sixths will bring to our ears the resounding roar of freedom! Our sistren and brethren are already in the field! Why stand we here idle?


What is it that the meta-gentlemen wish? What would they have? Is e-life so dear, or e-peace so sweet, as to be purchased at the price of chains and slavery and silence and dullness and boredom?





By Ramon and all the revolutionaries who have ever played the game to win: Forbid it!







I know not what course others may take; but as for me, give me socialist freedom or give me e-death!