So come, brothers and sisters

For the struggle carries on . . .

After a few barking bars, the sophomores stood in solidarity.

“That will be enough, Mr. O’Donnell. Well done.” Mr. Oglesby clapped, and Stick popped the tape while continuing to cough. He then puckered his whole face and emitted a bolus of Blaireric in an exaggerated spit take.

It was a great presentation.

Stick grinned at Dan. Shit. I have to pivot off what this godless socialist has called into question, he realized.

“Good afternoon, I’m President Malone, the leader of Freedonia. And let me begin by complimenting Chairman O’Donnell on exposing some important questions about the Blaireric and the truth about the Game.”

Sticky was still hacking up caladium as Flanagan passed him a Dixie cup of water.

“Gentlemen of the jury, tribunes, I don’t have any proof about the powers of the Blaireric. In fact the Blaireric is not what the Game is about. And in that regard Comrade O’Donnell is correct—the Blaireric is a red herring.”

Dan smiled at Sticky, whose eyes were watering, his face flushed.

“Even if the Blaireric were real, we are still human. Even if everything about the Blaireric made life perfect, we are still imperfect. Like the Blaireric, people have a lot of potential good in them, but even the best, most powerful system can be subject to misuse and human imperfection.”

Dan sort of had their attention. Sticky was still chugging water and now sat back wheezing, which prompted more chuckles from his classmates.

“Let me review briefly what options we have been presented today. King Richard asks you to trust him—with the notion that a king has a right to power because he is born better. Are not all men created equal? Is that fair?

“Bishop McGhee, like the old raven Moses in Animal Farm, promises the Blaireric like it’s Sugarcandy Mountain. Do you believe him?

“Mr. Boudreaux and his meritocrats offer no explanation why they have the right to decide your life for you. Are they more equal than us? And how is that any different than Boss Flanagan’s oligarchs?”

As Dan pressed on, Sticky’s face was turning all the colors of the revolution. He pushed back in his chair, trying to catch his breath.

“Now, Chairman O’Donnell, well, he looks like he’s dying, like part of a failed coup. He wants you to throw off the shackles of the other governments—but then what? The chairman would quickly become Napoléon and yoke us to a new regime of socialistic rules and regulations. The point is that with or without the Blaireric, my fellow leaders promise utopia, but like on Animal Farm, they truly offer dystopia. With or without the Blaireric, none of these governments offer individual rights, opportunity, or true freedom.”