Now,  my former classmates know very, very well how adamant and educated I am on the topic of Prussia. I am fascinated, completely enthralled by the former state. I even own a massive tome on the subject. (I actually own several massive tomes on the subject. Shut up, I can read all the dry nonfiction-y material I want.)

My love affair with Iron Kingdom began in fifth grade when I read a Royal Diaries book that spoke of Der Alte Fritz. I was curious about this silly man and his equally silly kingdom. In fact, at the beginning I had no respect or knowledge of what Prussia even was. So I asked my father, the all-knowing and never-erring force that could provide me with any information I wanted, a veritable cornucopia of knowledge when it came to geography and world history. (My father: The History and Business Major with a minor in Botany.)  He informed me that Prussia was like the older version of Germany. And that’s the best explanation he could give me without complicating things and getting into politics that would have been well beyond my fifth grade comprehension level. 

But I’m getting away from my main point!

And they will all inform you, some dryly and others laughingly, that I will leap to defend the object of my historic affections. Many of them will recall the “Pretend Russia” incident in which of one of the decidedly less bright students in one of our classes asked in the ‘p’ in Prussia stood for “Pretend” slapped in front of Russia. I was livid, furious, and mostly flummoxed that someone could even ask that. And so I very calmly explained that Prussia was a former country in Europe. But it still remained a sore spot. 

I had mostly forgotten about that until today when that awful memory was suddenly triggered today when a girl from my International Relations class happened to mistake Prussia for Russia. She wrote three paragraphs outlining Russia’s history from Ivan the Terrible, to Nicholas Romanov and then, finally, to Joseph Stalin. I t was very well-written and extremely articulate and one could easily tell she had put serious thought into the question. She had just gotten her countries mixed up was all. I kindly corrected her and she gracefully admitted she was wrong and she would have to start the entire thing again. I felt bad but I just couldn’t let that pass. I would have felt awful if she had a gotten a bad grade because she had simply made a mistake. 

Besides…I wrote dirty smut in my head while I was correcting her. Dirty smut of the Prussian variety. Of the Germancest variety. Of the East German variety because, bro, it looks like East Germany is totally sitting in West Germany’s lap.

Fuck you, I can ship whatever the fuck I want. CAN’T BE TAMED.