Chapter One:
Paragraph One.
The New Johannesburg.
In the year 2025 Donald Trump, president of the United States of America appoints Elon Musk, the South African billionaire behind SpaceX as a special presidential advisory to the Trump administration. By special presidential order all South African Afrikaaners facing persecution under the ANC government land reappropriation with compensation are granted refugee status in the USA. The California fires of late 2024 cleared the land, we'll circle back to it. Musk, as the founding member of The Doge offers financial incentives to ordinary people for a multitude of reasons including his SpaceX mission to Mars. The temporary shutdown of TikTok services in the United States, unrelated but assuming this is just a test the disruption in se4vice caused nationwide panic for the brief period. Musk too ventured to shut off the X platform, again this is just a test. The wheels in my mind are turning over these random events, trying for the potential connections without treading too far into conspiracy theories. I envision a scenario of exchange. The Afrikaaners seeking passage west are to bring with them a piece of brick and mortar of the city of Johannesburg. They are travel west to California. They place each piece in exact replica, Essentially rebuilding Johannesburg in America. Some might suggest...
Paragraph Two.
The Cult of Common Sense.
In digital we trust, dependency a must. Society has become a strange landscape of virtual unpleasantness. The separation of civilization is no longer gods or clods, the separation is social media popularity. Society is doom unless you are a devote follower of the many mindless influencers spouting their endless drivel of content to garner those valuable like, share, subscribe and comment tokens to feed the ai algorithm gatekeepers. Going offline is heresy, I'm sure a cyber court will be established to prosecute those regular offenders serving time in Facebook jail for offending the social media secret order. The digital age has altered the mindset of the human race. A mindset I choose not to practice. A practice that will exile you to the furtherest fringes of the known universe. Prepare to be judged.
Paragraph Three.
Do Clowns Taste Funny to Cannibals.
When cannibalism becomes a thing, just to be clear cannibalism happens when the last steakhouse on earth goes out of business, everyone is fair game. I am of the old guard, child of the Analogue Empire, defender of the faith, old fart to the millennial age. Anyone born from 1970 to 1989 came before the technology. We are Generation X. Anyone born 1990 to 1999 is the Y2K generation, if Neo is the one to save humanity from the Matrix start looking for them in this group. Anyone born 2000 onwards are Millennials, children of the modern age who don't know life without the instant gratification of touch screen technology. I'm not denouncing the sub genres, have your alphabet generation classification but consider these three the main groups, I'm tired of trying to fit somewhere between the niche classification of the 80s timeline. I was born in the 80s, raised in the 80s, love the 80s, wish I could go back to the 80s, the beat decade ever. Why?
Life was simple, curious and fun. I am tired of being overexposed to technology because everything has to be availableeverywhere, all the time, all at once. I was here long before computers, smart phones, social media, the internet and AI. I learned valuable life skills. I was taught to use tools, build things with my hands, work with my immediate environment. I was raised outdoors where I could explore and discover. So much of that is lost to the smart phone zombies and their online addictions. I've long stood opposite to this conformist regime, the arrogant and the ignorant, conspirators to betray common sense, abandon conventional wisdom in service of convenience. I fell for the romance initially, the call of the future, I played the game, learned the nature of the beast. The attraction to machines fades over time, repetition loses all meaning, the mind succumbed to boredom, we have entered the age of failure. Moving forward with the advancement of modern technology that is the responsibility of the Millennials. The machines will outlive me, I'm comfortable with that. I may not agree but this is change and change is inevitable. Each to their own, stupidity is protected by the human rights charter. I'm not here to save anyone, I've shown everyone the real world beyond the Matrix. I'm going as far from technology as practically possible. I've moved on, I no longer desire the future. Out of the game. I think the millennial envy comes from the old guard calling the Millennials out on their crap, as we predicted it back in the day. The modern haters are trapped by their self imposed isolated society of digital introverts wanting a complicated future by doing absolutely nothing original. All our creativity is dead, if I were to guess it died in 2004 with the first iPhone. Society has been on a downward spiral since, extremely well documented failings preserved in ridiculous selfies and that tiktok shit. Some of us took the UNABOM approach. Off grid crackpots with an insane ideology to save the planet, living in balance with the natural world and trying to heal the world so we can make it a better place, for you and for me and the entire human race. When food fails and cannibalism means survival I've got me game plan, I know a few useful things to get me by.
I wonder what plans the pronoun culture know. Do they see more to life beyond the streaming media?
Do they understand what A.I. represents and how it won't help them?
Do any of them have a five year plan to get by?
Nope.
Should global food security fail during my lifetime I'm turning to cannibalism as the next alternative lifestyle diet plan. I'm dining through the human to answer the curiosity, do clowns taste funny?
Paragraph Four.
The Thanos Scale.
The human race has the natural ability to destroy everything except itself. What if is was a simple snap of the fingers?
How terrible would it be erasing half of all life throughout the known universe?
Thanos presents a compelling argument. People of the modern age are broken. Broken yet functional. Introspection says it's all me, not you. Apologists say it's better to ask forgiveness than permission. Pragmatists agree to throw shit until something sticks. Social media broadcasts successful people are all evil monsters set on global destruction, and they're lizard humanoids. Conspiracy theorists are reliable sources. Google is always correct. History is an opinion. Facts are interpretable because rumours are always true. That is a lot of broken.
Thumbs-up...
That's all I can offer the post mindset. You do you, I'll do me and we'll coexist as humanity. Yet that post mindset reminder finds a way in. I resist the temptation to kill them with puns, kill them with wit, kill them with sarcasm, kill them with kindness and ultimately just kill them. Nope, snap. If I woke up tomorrow with half the human race gone, woo-hoo!
If I woke up tomorrow morning as the last person on Earth I'd smile, take a deep breath and enjoy my cup of coffee. Because:
"We the willing, led by the unknowing, are doing the impossible for the ungrateful. We have done so much, with so little, for so long, we are now qualified to do anything, with nothing.”
Earth needs to cull half of the human population; whether through war, famine, pestilence or death the four horsemen need to up the numbers. Society has become a virus, a virus killing its host. I'm not concerned how the cure works, just that it works. I'm impartial to the selection process, everyone has half chance for survival. I am disheartened by the choice of play the millennial game or die and go away. I think I need to go walkabout.
Paragraph Five.
Another Body.
The following account is inspired by an actual event. Why would the police van be facing the oncoming traffic?
I caught site of the flashing blue and red while merging lanes on the motorway. No signs of tow trucks or slowed traffic to suggest an accident. Wait a minute. There had been an accident. The form draped over with thermal foil lay off the road shoulder, another body. I couldn’t see further than the right hand motionless protruding from beneath the shiny cover. Palm down, fingers relaxed, potential gratuitous violence quietly baking under the thermal cover in the non day sun waiting for the coroner collection.
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