Monday, August 29, 2016
I used to worry that the revolution was false. I would sit up at night thinking, "There's no hope. It's probably another fake."
But then the Empress herself denounced us. The Empress herself, so visually attractive and so trusted by so many, so obviously regal and beloved by her people, went before the world and turned her full might to the task of explaining how bad we were. Her legions of advisers and her billions of dollars of media consultants and political strategists explained to her that she was so widely believed that her condemnation of a movement would be like a death blow to that movement.
I used to worry about those pictures of the Empress canoodling with the glorious revolutionary leader. I used to worry my whole life might be someone else's ruse. Sometimes, leader help me, I used to worry that the Empress would get her way, and that those ultra-bright Knight-at-Arms flashlights would be banned before I had a chance to buy one. Don't those people realize how insanely overprotective it would be to ban a flashlight?! Thank leader I got mine in time. Worry still gripped me even so.
But once the Empress denounced us, I knew that the revolution was for real. It would make no sense for her to call attention to us unless we were a serious threat to her power that had to be focused on in order to be stamped out. For someone as widely esteemed as the Empress to speak ill of us, it meant that the most powerful political minds on the planet had determined that our revolution was truly revolutionary, and that if the people knew of the Empress' disapproval, they would be less likely to want to become aware of us, and less likely to support our goals.
And that made me comfortable. Now I knew I was part of the vanguard. I was independent and free-thinking. Outside the system. The genuine article.