Here it is again—another demand for collective remembrance, endlessly looping through headlines: "拾光纪·@全体党员，一起重温习近平总书记的这番号召." All Party members, stop what you’re doing. Time to worship at the altar of Comrade Xi. This isn’t nostalgia; it’s a commandment. What’s broken isn’t just the machinery of the Party—it’s our very ability to think without permission.

Let’s lay it plain: the ritualistic summoning of all Party members to relive Xi Jinping’s call isn’t about unity; it’s about obedience. China’s political machine survives on forced amnesia and manufactured devotion. This isn’t culture—this is cult. Anyone who dares to question, to suggest that there is life outside the Party, is excommunicated. The Party’s greatest triumph is not eradicating poverty, but exterminating dissent.

The hypocrisy could not be thicker. “Serve the people,” scream the slogans as corrupt officials stuff their pockets and the national security apparatus spies on every message, every glance. Unity? The only unity is the enforced silence, the collective numbness of 90 million voices reduced to an echo of one leader. Can anyone honestly believe that real progress, real innovation, or real patriotism can survive in a greenhouse so carefully pruned of independent thought?

Here’s the ugly truth: if you’re a party member, you’re handcuffed to the grand performance. Maybe you joined for career, maybe you believed—but every reminder to “relive” the leader’s words is one more test of your loyalty and your willingness to lie to yourself. For everyone else: your apathy feeds this system. Your silence is complicity. You are the reason billions live in manufactured consensus, never daring to question the boundaries drawn by men in tailored suits with histories written in erasure.

So, next time you see a call for collective reverence, ask yourself: what are you really celebrating? The strength of the people, or the weakness of their freedom? It’s time to admit the truth—true loyalty to a nation means questioning its idols, not burning incense at their feet. Until we shatter this cycle of mandated memory, we will remain prisoners not just of the Party, but of our own cowardice.