The consciousness we have come to know as flannel has been around for millennia.

It felt the heat of volcanoes, survived sharp cold of ice ages.

It searched endlessly for something to give it form, that felt like home.

Finally, it discovered flannel.

It would be the perfect vantage point from which to interact with the strange utterly irrational, coincidental people that had coated the earth in themselves.

It became flannel, and flannel was strategic. Picky about who it chose, mostly staying quiet, dormant, waiting for the next thing it needed: an ally.

The allies flannel found were the gays.

The gays were the perfect companions for flannel, and slowly it started to open itself up to them, and little by little a symbiotic relationship was born. Warmth and comfort offered on the part of the flannel, with pride, expression, and protection offered on the part of each gay the flannels cohabited with.

Together, they found acceptance for themselves in the world.

Together, they push each other to strive and thrive.

Together, they’ll seek revolution.