And thus the general liberated the darkened city with an address instead of weapons, sent out on cables and wires into the minds of the populace like flame ribbons of lace and silk entertwined with golden light, for heaven laid in his words and his voice sounded like it resonated from the hollows of a Grecian Urn, mythic and bellowing. He said that liberty, love, life, and light are the birthrights of every person who is born into prison, that the prison walls became visible and were thus torn down like flimsy aluminum siding. The doctors came and inspected the general, declared him to be absolutely of sane mind, and the general gave the order to occupy the city with his troops, a cadre of beautiful women riding horses, with swords and books in hand, what better to dispense justice.

The mobs cheered and wine flowed in the streets after the great battle, it numbed the pain of the past and shattered the chains of allegiance to the old order, it swept up the crowd on a wave of maroon that softened their hearts. They cried for all they had lost, and cried joy for all the freedom they gained, it was freedom they had been after, not democracy nor a republic, nor an oligarchy or a plutocracy. There was a burning of paper money in the streets, followed by much laughter, as if the past of civilization had been some joke played over and over again, waiting for the moment for the champagne bottle to be broken on the street, christening the city once again with the name Angel City, this time in all levity, seriousness, laughter, and joy.