Do you try to hide the fact that you like prog?

The anti-prog purges have only intensified. Armed guards on every street. Mobs moving from building to building, searching for the slightest hint that their occupants enjoy prog. They found a copy of In The Wake of Poseidon in Magnum Vaeltaja's building down the street. I'll never forget the screams. We've been smuggling Camel freaks out at night, with falsified passports bearing allegiance to Avril Lavigne, and hiding them under the floorboards by day. We all know the penalties for such treason, the ropes and fires that await us. I've heard rumors that Guldbamsen is still alive somewhere in the Outer Reaches, rallying a resistance, but that stubborn b*****d is a long way from here. The rest of the old crew had the mercy of going out in the first wave; Micky's head is still displayed on the border wall of The Dead Zone. Pink Floyd was just added to The Prohibited; a wave of innocent stoners were carried off in the following days, the longest I can remember. The children at schools are subjected to testing; any who can identify when a song changes time signature is immediately escorted to the Reeducation Zone. None have yet returned, but one can distinctly hear the clanging of metal, in 4/4 of course, emanating from within. I catch myself humming Yours Is No Disgrace on occasion; such mistakes can be fatal. And all of this, because we brave, foolish few dared to share our musical preferences. May God help us all.