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Mara por vida, homie.

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Of Pilgrims and Pies
Lotta stuff's goin' on in the next week. In-game, we've got the 7th anniversary celebrations kicking off. On top of that, we've got Thanksgiving creepin' round the corner. All the while, we see the sand sift out of the top of the hourglass and hear the cranks all begin to finally wind down. As a friend of mine so eloquently encompassed, we are the last leaves on the tree.

For many, playing this game has become a very bitter experience. I'm not gonna touch on that more than I need to, because in the twilit hours of this game, I don't wanna be bitter. I want anger to color my present anymore. It isn't needed. So, in the vast spirit of being thankful coinciding with my favorite number 7, I want to take the time and thank all the people who have been meaningful to me and helped shape the way I play this game. I've done that before when I quit the first time, but it's been a while since then and I have a broader view.

So each day, for the next seven, I'm gonna invite you on a small journey into my life and share the things I'm most thankful for in this game.

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S.E.E.S. or: How I Learned to Stop Worrying and Love the Game
It's interesting to try and describe S.E.E.S. to a generation who doesn't know what it really is. There is no modern game similarity to it, and I doubt there will ever be again. S.E.E.S. was less a party and more a cultural event. It had weight in ways the meta can never replicate again. Describing colors to a blind man would be easier.

The Specialized Elite Execution Squad as it was formally known was a conglomeration dedicated in loving devotion to one, huge ego: Emerick. This wasn't an ego tripping party like many of the nation's less qualified minds suspect the USWP of being to Pfeiffer. The correlation actually insulting; indeed, S.E.E.S. was the hipster critic of Pfeiffer. They were doin it before it was cool.


No, indeed, S.E.E.S. was a surrendering of authority to the guy who knew - truly - everything that that party should be. Emerick was a man with a vision, a grand editor of propaganda and consensus that helped navigate S.E.E.S. into being influential. What was once a disparate group of trolls and basement dwellers was turned into a swaggering colossus of pure propaganda and machismo. It was unapologetic in its patriotism in a way the Feds have never captured; it was elite in a way the USWP could only hope to be, and it was a movement which enraptured critics and cohorts in a great delight of national change and power.


I came to S.E.E.S. by accident. Basically, when the party I was in was PTO'd, we all swam over to S.E.E.S., who was offering to be our lifeboat in that time of need. I hung out on the IRC channel, kidded around with the guys, and was immediately swept up with the sort of awe that that party fostered. When it came time to move back, I remained behind. I stayed in S.E.E.S., and it was the best decision I ever made.

What you have to understand is that in those times, if you didn't actively contribute at least some small thing to a party or the national, you didn't even get a deputy job. Cabinets were closed, elite positions for only those that scrabbled their way to the top. There was a process to trying to get there, and it was arduous. We're so drained for people right now that basically anyone can get a job in a POTUS cabinet if they just ask the right way.

It was in this way - promoting - that S.E.E.S. greatly succeeded. If you were good, you got posters made of you, articles roasting you in good spirit, positions and avenues open to you. If you weren't good, you sunk. It was a brutal editing process, led by a group whose humor often was cruel and obscene.


They called fascists, trolls, and all other manner of detracting terms by their critics. And it's true: they modeled themselves on fascism. And they succeeded because of it. With all of the competitive ego in trying to be leader of the party taken out of the way, your only scrabble was into Emerick's inner circle so that you could springboard elsewhere. It forced retention and recruitment, and it was brilliant at it. S.E.E.S. tapped into that dirty mythos that we all on some level subscribe to; that collective love of powerful military, of nationalistic propaganda, and great ideals bigger than yourself.

It was the best fun I've ever had.


I didn't stay in S.E.E.S. for very long. A few months. But the time spent is what I'm thankful for. It was transformative. Prior to that, I hadn't really gotten the game. I knew you were supposed to join, supposed to sort of pretend to be official. There was this subtle roleplay going on in all the parties, and a certain way of speaking about things and not doing so.

I had tried to blend in. S.E.E.S. taught me you didn't need to. It held a mirror up to the silly pompousness of party politics, and smashed it in its face. The promise of S.E.E.S., and the reality of this game that it ultimately taught me, is that you don't need to pretend in the way everyone else does, that there is a better meta out there, and that this - ultimately - will always be just a game.


I am thankful that it happened, and sad at its passing. I know this entire article makes me sound old. I know new players probably won't understand part of what is meant here. And I know everyone's probably expecting some sort of moral or commentary on the current game.

Ain't gonna give it.

I am thankful for S.E.E.S. and I cherish the times I spent enjoying the game with a group of people who remembered it was a game. It was fun. And I'll never forget that.


Emerick always said I wasn't as big a faggot as I came off in my articles. I think he would've hated this one.