When you’re an anarchist—or at least when you’ve been one long enough—you understand what a horribly depressing path you’ve chosen. Most of the time, you are fighting an uphill battle, against perhaps well-meaning but at least short-sighted people, ending in predictably disastrous results. In fact, it’s as though you’ve been watching the world go straight to hell since 9/11. Oh sure, you do your best to swim upstream against the near overwhelming current of erosions of rights, stacking of criminal charges, reams of regulations, taxes and takings, and every other damned thing. Yet your victories are often small, not to mention few and far between.

And if that’s how it’s going to be, then they should also be both savored and sweet.

Yesterday, I had the opportunity to delight in the fact that a prosecutor in Denver is doing our job for us, creating FAR more fully informed jurors with his misguided attempts to quash distribution of FIJA literature than those handing it out could ever have done on their own. He has gotten our issue in The Denver Post twice, so far, with potentially a lot more coverage to come, as well as on the national stage in such mainstream outlets as USA Today and The Washington Post. Thanks, Mitch, baby! You could be our Activist of the Year!

To help me savor the sweet, sweet taste of a moment of anarchist victory, I ran out for some ice cream and whipped up the:

Anarchist's Pat on the BackAnarchist’s Pat on the Back
Add to a blender:
1/4 cup bourbon (I used Wild Turkey)
1/4 cup heavy cream
chocolate —NOT VANILLA!— ice cream (use your best judgment, then toss in a little extra)
chocolate syrup

Blend it up and adjust the ingredients to suit your preferred consistency. Pour it into your finest anarchist glass. Top with whipped cream, chocolate syrup, caramel syrup, as many maraschino cherries as suits your whimsy, and every other damned thing you like. Break out with the bendy straws! The ones in neon! Don’t use just one either!!!


Who knows the next time something will go oh so right in spite of the quiet, yet ubiquitous, despair of the Remnant. You must not let this rare opportunity slip by unmarked in a manner befitting its significance.