My Younger Days

My experiences with the War and the Resistance

I was at first, fearful of the war. I was young at that time, and I never expected a war to actually happen, but when I got word of the Germans and Italians launching their invasion, I was shocked. My young mind expected the worst. You see, I read all about the South Germans and their evil ideology, Drexlerianism. I was confident that the communists, as glorious as they were, to keep them at bay, alongside the Allied Nations... I was wrong. Horribly wrong. I was taking a stroll in Vichy, with my other friends, when they attacked. They attacked with impunity and did not stop, they dropped out of the sky, and opened fire on anyone foolish enough to attempt shooting at them. I ran the other way, alongside my other friends.

My old home on the mainland, now ruins...

I hid alongside my friends with my mother, we were always fearful. I was fearful of what happened to father, my mother was fearful of what would happen to us should the South Germans ever find us. My friends were scared, I think I remember one of them crying himself to sleep during the night, not that I could blame the young man. I think I was... nineteen? I was nineteen when all of this occurred, so I was fairly certain the South German soldiers would view me as a prime target... bastards. After six weeks of hiding, me, my friends, and my mother fled Vichy and headed somewhere else, hoping to evade the South Germans. And maybe live one more day, though that was a big maybe. At least, it was affirmed for me. Not so much for my other associates.

We fled northward, and we stopped at a place which I forgot the name of. Not that I want to remember, anyway. It's where they would meet their demise. When we settled there, we realized we had almost nothing to sustain ourselves with. Food, water, and even clothing were scarce in the area we settled in. So, I volunteered to gather food, clothing, and maybe, in case, some weapons. Of course, I thought of that last decision. Everyone else wanted food and clothing. Cowards, not even willing to pick up a gun. It wasn't all good, as I indeed got food and clothing, but I had to run into... multiple problems to get them. In particular, one soldier wanted to do that with me... I gave him his wishes but then murdered him as soon as he undressed. Dumb bastard. I also began to learn what was happening outside of France. The Allies and the Soviets were killing each other, to my horror. But they were also killing the Axis, which was good. Those bastards need to pay.

We continued these 'supply runs' as we desperately needed to feed ourselves. Later on, I wouldn't be alone in searching for supplies and weapons. Two of my friends joined me, and we began our routine of going out, finding an Axis vehicle, ambushing it, then taking the supplies back home. As long as we could feed ourselves, at least. One day, I stole a radio from a German halftrack and brought it back home. I fiddled around with the signals until I could get something. And something I did indeed get. The Allies were advancing! France could finally be free! I was excited, I was happy. France could finally be free from the Axis. I was ecstatic. Nothing could stop my happiness!

Then it happened. One day, while out on a supply trip, I was going back home when on the way I heard massive explosions, explosions that could only mean something. It was a bombing. I realized that the explosions were near my new home. And I raced against time to get back there, hoping in vain that my friends and mother were unharmed. When I went back. They were dead. All of them. Mother was crushed under rubble, but that was merciful compared to the fates of my friends. One of them, impaled next to a fire, another, bisected in half. In grief, I stayed there. Hoping that the Allies would rescue me. They never came.

Eurocommunist Resistance conducting house raids.
I joined them after the found poor old me.

I wandered across France, searching for something to do. My mother is gone, my friends are gone. There was nothing I could do. I also stumbled upon father, or, correctly, what remains of him. The only way I could recognize my own father was through taking a look through his hat, and finding a photo of us. I'm sad glad he died, I DON'T miss him. I took his hat and wore it as my own, as one more thing I could do for him. I'm sure he would've liked me wearing the hat anyway. One day, while wandering the lands, I stowed away in a German truck. I'm fairly certain that its driver was dumb enough to not notice me. And I fell asleep, but when I woke up... something was different. I took a look at my surroundings... and found myself surrounded by men with guns. I introduced myself af ter a rapid-fire explanation, and they introduced themselves as well. Eurocommunist resistance. I remembered that I had nothing to do... so I did what logically, anybody would do. I joined the Eurocommunists.

My Revolution, My France

Me, Right Here

"When is the day, Comrades?" - The motto of the Resistance Cell I was with.

"I was made as a person to be free, I was meant to be running around the streets of France, free from all the pettiness of this world. So, yes, I can take off my clothes and run around without them!" - A particularly embarrassing exchange I had with an old couple.

Truth be told, I don't like talking about myself because it reminds me too much of my old lifestyle. The time where I was shackled to morality, reality, and its tyranny by people who didn't know anything but obedience and enslavement. But I suppose, for the glory of Futurism and Acceleration, I shall. Where do I begin? Ah, yes. My personality. Most people would call me unhinged but there's a teensy tinsy problem to that accusation. We're all insane, it just affects us differently. If I were to describe myself, I'd be a person broken from the chains of society, morality, ethics, and other petty articles still fought for by the corrupt governments of the AN, Axis, and Sovintern.

Some of my personal, non-political beliefs are quite simple. I dislike wearing clothes at times, seeing them as a reminder of what used to limit my freedom and acceleration. So I take them off. After all, France is a nation accelerated beyond the need for morality so why not adapt to it? I don't really enjoy eating sweets, they remind me too much of the people I hate. You know, the ones that ruled over us with an iron fist, the bourgeoisie. Oh, oh, I also seem to have an active liking to... drawings. Some of the artists here, specifically the Asian ones, are downright weird. But their content is entertaining, so I let them spread it around.

On to my personality, when elaborated, I generally believe myself to be free of morals, but sometimes I ask people, especially my staff, what I am morally, at least in their opinion... They simply chalk it up to this; a chaotic, well-intentioned patriotic radical. I would not label myself with things that I associate with the life I left behind, but this amused me. So I'm taking their word for granted. They're trustworthy people, I suppose. I generally do believe that what I am fighting for is right, though. And I do mean the best for France, as South German devastation wreaked the nation, I simply did what I could do and rescued it from total collapse.

When it comes to my work life? I work and suffer daily to provide for France. I live for France, for Accelerationism, and Futurism. I will die for France, Accelerationism, and Futurism. You can say I'm a workaholic, at the very least I consider that a compliment. A true testament as to how much I suffer and put myself through excruciating pain in order to provide for my beliefs. But, at the end of the day, I am a human. I cannot provide for France forever, so once I die... I just hope that my successor will continue the Futurist and Accelerationist tradition I put. In the name of the new man!

Now, before you ask 'Jean-Andou, what about your relationship life?' I can answer that for you. I'm not interested in love, for now at least. I simply don't have the time to dedicate my attention to a working relationship when I have to keep working. Working, and working, and working, and it just repeats. At the very least, I could maybe serve as a 'test subject' in helping people in their relationships before they move on to other women. Though, I do have a 'love interest', you can say. An ex-British soldier. Canadian, at least that's what he says. Someday, once my work for France is done, I can try settling in with him. That man might need some help.

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My political views are... Well, they're something. I'm an Unrealist Despot, according to people. I, however, also hear people call me a Great Woman. I'm not sure which I should stick with, actually. It's funny having to describe myself as both at the same time, it confuses the hell out of people, so... Now, on National Industrialism... It is a destruction of individuality, which is ironic to hear coming from me, but I acknowledge that France isn't France because it is united, France is France because it's... varied. And destroying the sense of individualism kills the potential for art to flourish like it should. Now, what do I think of democracy? Not a bad system, but it is inherently flawed, however all ideologies are inherently flawed, as reality's tyranny works both ways. I've heard that Tukachevism, popular in Prussia, is a military... democracy, at most. And Vigo is Social Democrat, and is keeping itself together. I like that.

On the Axis... they're not the best nations, but the people, the people is where it's at. They're like me, slow, turning, but resilient cogs in a machine. And when they found themselves in France, damning themselves to a nation of... art and expression. They're misguided, but overall, they're good people. Shackled by the constraints of reality, but I did show many of them the way to escape its tyranny. Though sometimes, I may have had to... persuade them into changing their opinions. And not conventionally, no. The Axis themselves, however, are dysfunctional territories only kept together by hate, and fueled by the constraints of their idealized reality. Including 'Pan-Germania' from elements of the DAP, or 'Irredento' of Mussolini. Safe to say I hate them.

On technocracy... I'm an avid supporter of the ideology, yes, however, France is not a Technate. Is a nation of artists, a nation of cogs, a nation of... more importantly, people. I call myself an extension of France, and vice versa, however... while the art of science is invaluable in accelerating the potential of surrealism and ultimately, France itself... technocracy is JUST a blueprint to put the Cogs into. It is not an idea that can just be applied without any proper schematics. The only way I achieved technocracy in France is through hitting it until it fit. Unfortunately, due to the ambitions of some of my cabinet, I routinely have to... remind them of why they're under France. Perhaps one day, we can blend Technocracy into Surrealism through peace, but that won't happen. Yet.

On morality... it's useless, according to people, but in most applications, it... feels amazing. It 'serves no scientific purpose', and is 'restraining the true potential of people'. However, I do think that morality is useful in not making obvious discoveries about how shooting people kills them. Morality, for me, is a rather interesting subject, as it's... interpreted in many ways by those who cherish it, and those who see it as a restraint. It's certainly something unique and at times, detrimental in my opinion. I personally despise the 'black-and-white' views that quite a few people hold, they're simply too... immature for my taste. I mean, I hate people who view the world like this, so I'll simply kill them. But that's if I really need to.

When we talk about forms of Futurism and Accelerationism that exist aside from Accelerationist Eurocommunism, I find myself agreeing with a lot of their policies, because they're interesting to me, they're something that I think is a solution to France's problems. Surrealism is also a topic of great interest to me, as the ideology itself is... the end result of untreated and unrestrained instinct. A ritualistic 'ripping off' the mask known as tradition. But it doesn't always have to be violent, however I'm still not very... hopeful that true Surrealism can be achieved without a single shot. At least, not yet.

I personally see myself as not another Napoleon, not as a true Marxist, and not as a generally defined leftist, but as the savior of France, the greatest... person that France shall know, the Consul, or at times, La Patronne, though interestingly I shudder as if I have fear when I hear that name. Now, when I look back at what I've done, for France, I realize that... it was achieved only through violence. Surrealism, as I implemented it, isn't true leftism. According to the Romanovists of the East, that is. It's not even true 'Surrealism' as it's called by people. But it's... something else. A nation not defined by traditional morality, yet still keeping itself... alive. A nation reborn from the ashes of reality, as it has stared at the abyss, and was stared at back. And as the savior of France, it is my duty to keep it working. After all, I'm a cog, and we cogs all lift together.

"Horror. Horror is a subjective word, it has many faces, it can appear to only specific people, it can sometimes have no effect on other people. But if there's anything consistent with Horror, it's that Horror can appear at any time, on any thing." - My thoughts on Horror as a term and genre.

"I abandoned that name now, silly fool. I'm now a new person, so please, please refer to me as Jean-Andou." - A conversation I had with someone I once knew.