The Blue Magician: (528 words.)

To defeat Jacob the Green Marxist, I must play all blue against all green. The only reservation that I had was produced by systematic self-deprivation. If consumerism is mere bourgeois conceit, then so is deck-building. The thought of building one immediately upon having contested him was not lost to my mind, but as my father rambled on about the Game Over algorithm his redundancy (and my preoccupation with it, as well as with him and his feelings) dampened my passion for the task at hand, especially in the midst of other impending business.

Hence it was during a brief half hour after missing my first train yesterday that I attempted to construct an All-Blue Deck, found myself short (at hand) of blue cards, and tried to combine blue with green. This proved ineffective land-wise.

My strategy for a strong deck, secretly an attempt to beat Jake and to smash a mirror (at least half of which, the former half of course, he had surmised in his typically vocal, unreserved manner), was just as inadvertently the reflux of dreaded Systems Theory.

I know the path ahead now, not only in games but in Life.

My Blue Deck shall draw on my entire reserve of blue cards. Only the best will do, though I shall be generous in what I consider Great.

They will by their nature(s!) lend themselves to Cooperation. They shall not be coerced into it. This is PURE Marxism: the liberation of the Individual.

At all times, people die and suffer. If one were to take personally a collective problem, acting as a Messianic Figure, then the emotion of Joy would be lost one’s self perpetually, and just as soon would die the motivation to create a Better Life, either for Self or Others. If it did not die within one’s Self, it would die in Others by contagion of the disease, and as such one would perpetually fail in one’s attempts to aid Them. Other as Others would be reduced to the proverbial “They” (the Jews, the Communists, the Bourgeois, Women, etc.)

Manic Depression is seldom a solution. The perpetual state of Strife, interrupted only episodically by the sense of a short-lived Victory, is wrongfully repressed but rightfully suppressed. I shall no more be oppressed by internal guilt than by external suggestion. War remains a last resort.

It must all ways be so.

The Gods Themselves will guide me along this heroic path. My journey now turns towards Home. I must be careful not be robbed of what I have learned by thieves of glorious virtue.

Joy I shall no longer disown, for it is my stronghold, my reward and bounty, with which I shall be generous in sharing. I shall live as though Paradise were all ready here, (for it is!! And it is more ubiquitous than Hell, by its very Nature) and by so doing I shall express Heaven in terms of Earth and create a New Reality. Trickle-down economics works when the treasure trickles down from Heaven. And that I know to be more than a bourgeois fantasy. It is all that’s ever worked for me. And

Grace shall lead me home.

Dm.A.A.