After a stirring, speech-filled election night — by which I mean a raucus evening of boasting, ranting, and discussions of "Drive," which most of the residents there, incluiding me, were also watching at the time — I was duly elected mayor by the citizens of Washtown, the largest Firefly-themed settlement in Second Life. It was a magical night.

We had a sizeable amount of folk show up, and I stood on a convenient car to start speechifying, which boiled down to "We're all here to see what bastard's gonna be mayor, and I aim to be that bastard." Like all good political speeches it promised much, said little, and there was gunfire involved. Initially there was a lack of opposition but Raven's wizard engineeer Sabrina McGee stepped up to run against me (for the position of not-Mayor) in the spirit of democracy, and she did indeed provide a rousing speech and a worthy adversary. But promises of happy days, bright futures, and graft won the day and I am proud to accept my new responsibilities, assuming I have any.

I’ll work to expand Washtown into a township to be proud of, a cosy haven for passing ships and wandering Browncoats, without losing the smalltown feel we love so well. I’ll help to keep griefers and other uninvited lowlifes — as opposed to our occasionally lowlife residents, who are all welcome and treasured — away from our homes. And I will work to rebuild the lamented Hoban Saloon, recently devastated by what some are calling a Reaver attack. I foresee that location becoming our new town hall (with the current owner’s consent, of course).

And I would like to reach out to our neighbors, the mudflats of Canton, in the spirit of friendship, shared interests, and lucrative mud trade agreements.

This is truly the dawning of a new day. Call me if you need me, I'll be sleeping it off.

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