One ole curmudgeon, (a sorehead with a degree), said that after a lifetime of study, scrutiny and contemplation, he was finally convinced of one thing, and one clear thing only – that there is nothing to say, just nothing to say. (But he doesn’t want to be the one to point it out.)
On local levels, there is a repeated anticipation of victory, (which nicely substitutes for same)..
I heard one fellow on your planet say that, “Even though happiness is weird,” he still had to prefer it over sadness, which he says is, “Far too messy and complex.”
If local authorities must authorize, license or otherwise sanction your exercise of your art, then your art is but a commercial trade, and no matter who pays your wages, you work and support the local conditions. (Oh well, I don’t suppose any of you have the heart, if not the interest, to consider any internal utility of this info? No, well at the very least you might be a mite more selective regarding who you work for, even if you’re self employed.)
The Revolution has no middle, no second act, save for the rebellious actors themselves.