Today marks the tenth anniversary of my first and only piece of interactive fiction, Antifascista.

Antifascista was written for and about my friends in the midwest anarchist milieu. I wrote it squarely within the Obama presidency and long before "antifa" was a word you heard on television. During the few days of May 2012 that I spent writing it, I could not have anticipated the exact course that fascism would take in the following years. As I expected, parallels to one of its characters can be seen in comment sections and street corners. Less obvious to me was one of the chief places that fascism would develop elsewhere. One reviewer near the time of the work's release voiced what was my exact intention: that it depicts "one way to resist fascism." Despite its short length and many flaws, I think that I fulfilled my intention.

There are parts of Antifascista that I can read and still feel proud of today. If I had to do it over again, I would handle that last interaction differently, as I agree fully with one writer's criticism of it. I have only one other regret. For a short time, Antifascista was mistakenly attributed to someone else, a better writer than me. In retrospect, I should have let the attribution stay with him. Though I never knew Conrad, I hope he would have liked it.

It is remarkable to me how much time has changed. I've lost touch with some of the friends and parts of the life I commemorate here. I am just as in touch with the others as I ever was. For my own part, I remain resolutely committed to anarchism, just as I remain committed to furthering the "other side" of life alluded to in Antifascista's description.

The only words left to say are the words of someone else. The Adorno quote that I put at the start of the work has just as much power for me today as did it ten years ago.

"He who integrates is lost."