The Confessions of Phoenix Quinn

Day 2,950, 17:32 • Published in USA USA • by Silas Soule

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Congratulations e-America, our brains are now thoroughly washed!! Hail Pfeiffer!



Gosh, until Great-Father Pfeiffer recently pointed out to my party PP that "you're all idiots", I had been totally under the spell of all kinds of crazy notions. But thanks to The Big Poppy of All Flufferdom and his United States Workers Party, I feel that I can now offer a full confession of my thought crimes.

They mainly took the form of weird dreams, some of which seemed to be very real, but now I realize were just a sad side effect of "role-playing" instead of actual playing-a-silly-game-on-the-internet-the-right-way.




The Confessions of Phoenix Quinn



OK. Here's the counter-revolutionary dreams I was having...

I was knocking on the door that holds the throne, looking for the map that leads me home. In the process, I was stumbling on good hearts that had turned to stone!

It seemed like the road of good intentions had gone dry as a bone.

And then saw a group of people waving a flag and singing: "We take care of our own. Wherever this flag's flown." Their flag looked like this:




I followed them and I started singing too. It was a catchy tune. Addictive even. "We take care of our own."

And in my dream... it must have been a dream of course... but it all seemed so true and real... we came from everywhere and had, like, compassion and stuff for people who were not wise to the way of the Workers Party...


It was like... from Portland to New Orleans, from Beirut to Boston, within every muscle and in my bones I could feel it. I saw the players, shackled and drawn, from the shotgun shacks of D1 to the pitiful stench of the Superdome after the Great War. There weren't no help coming for them. The cavalry'd stayed home. There weren't no one hearing the bugle blowin'.

So we took care of our own.


It was something to see. There were dozens and dozens of players with eyes with the will to see and hearts that ran over with mercy. There was a lover who had not forsaken me, and meaningful play-work that set my hands and soul free. It was like a great warrior spirit that could reign over me, syaing there's still a great promise from sea to shining sea, and wherever this flag is flown...

...we took care of our own.



That wasn't all. There was this part too... as if there had been a whole generation of players who had somehow dreamed that same dream or something much like it...


...and in this part, I'm telling you that up there on Bear Mountain, at the secret SFP Lair in South Dakota, deep inside the Badlands, I swear I saw a field of red-and-black stars on Anarch Hill and a slip of blood on a silver knife. And then I thought I glimpsed a graveyard kid from down below. You heard me right. At night, the dead came to life up there, well above the stars they crackled and we carried fire to them in our eyes. And whenever a dead man's moon throws seven rings, we comrades'd put our ears to the cold grave stones and this is the song we'd hear them sing:

WE ARE ALIVE!
And though our bodies lie alone here in the dark
OUR SPIRITS RISE!


It was spooky man, to carry the fire and light the spark to stand shoulder to shoulder and heart to heart with all those voices. One voice cried "I was killed in Madrid in 1936 when at the Cerro de los Ángeles the Internationalists made their stand". And another, "I was killed in 1963 one Sunday morning in Birmingham". And "I died last year crossing the southern desert my children left behind in San Pablo and our bodies were left to rot."

And they all pleade😛 "Oh please let them know: We are alive and though we lie alone here in the dark, our souls will rise to carry the fire and light the spark to fight shoulder to shoulder and heart to heart."





So yeah. It was all those weird dreams that made me do it.





To come entirely clean, here is a list of some of the other anti-Pfeifferist feels that these dreams made me have and sometimes even think out loud whenever I saw that flag:

* We will provide for you and we'll stand by your side.
* You'll need a good companion now for this part of the ride.
* Leave behind your sorrows and let this day be the last time you are ever afraid.
* Tomorrow there'll be sunshine and all this boring bleakness will past.
* Big wheels will roll through fields where sunlight streams.
* Brothers and Sisters: Meet me in a land of hope and dreams!





But now I understand, thanks to the Dictatorship's Wise Congress, Who Do As They See Fit, and thanks to the wise council of the Great-Leader-Father Pfeiffer and His Party, that all that was mere illusion and role-playing and actually had nothing to do with The Rules or Safety.





I only hope now, before my just sentence is levied, that my confession will stand as a good example to other counter-revolutionaries -- and to the hundreds and hundreds of co-conspirators out there who ever felt any joy at the sight of that flag -- so you will give up your silly dreams, like I have, and confess your thought crimes too, and "get real".