Dystopian Short Story

“Elon Musk’s son transitioned. The same Achilles’ heel that struck all the other “great man” types of the current age will strike him as well.”

This is an unverified piece of news on Telegram. It doesn’t matter if it’s true or false; we all know Elon cannot pose any threat to the ascendant regime. If he cannot be forced to compromise, his offspring will do it for him. The spiteful menopausal spiders will use dissidents as heads on spikes that justify their narrative and will triumph in colonising the minds of their children.

In less than two months, God willing, my first born daughter will see the light of day.

I once had an idea for a dystopian short story. Some infamous podcast, hosted by a komissar of wellbeing and entertainer, features her talking to the camera about the net benefits of the latest bio-political facility her team has managed to implement. Through lobbying her team have convinced the American state to fund a huge concentration camp / sanatorium for deplorables; the show is broadcasted from within the building; the commoners are being kept in seclusion in order to prevent viral infections as well as internet disinformation; they are monitored 24/7 by the lady’s analytics team, constantly measuring their pulse, diet and overall health.

The podcast is a reality show in which the lady vents about the stubbornness of these secluded bigots, how they refuse to see the merit in this enormous health and safety program which pours millions of dollars into making sure they are kept safe and don’t die from some viral infection or political radicalisation.

HOST: In this initiative I have been nothing but compassionate and loving. Years and years of pure dedication and genuine caring for these people.

[The cameraman switches from the host to one of the secluded patients, a middle aged lady shouting from behind a phono-isolated glass cubicle. The lady protests against the cruelty of the facility, though the audience of the show can never hear a thing. The host pushes a button that sends a shock wave to the lady.]

HOST: nothing but self-sacrifice and pure abnegation!

[The electrocuted lady starts gesturing angrily, while the host administers her yet another shock, which throws her to the ground].

HOST: And what do I get in return? Ingratitude! They think I’m off to get them. They think WE, who try to save their sorry asses, are enemies trying to poison or punish them! [administers yet another shock. The lady behind starts pulling her hair out while hopelessly hitting the glass wall].

HOST: Look at them! Look at all the rage, the populist rhetoric. They act like animals, like savage, mindless brutes. I’m not saying they are THAT (remember I have compassion), but simply that they CHOOSE to act like that. And you do that long enough, you become what you imitate. Just saying. It doesn’t have to be this way, bigots! You can seek clinical help. We can help you! We can educate you! If only you disgusting brutes [pushes the button one more time ] would shut up and LISTEN to us!’

The short story ends with the disappointed host leaving her office. She cannot even wait to get back into her Greenwich Village penthouse, she must write an acid twitter status while still in the taxi.

The time for such stories is long gone. We have seen Black Mirror starting in this vein and turning into something more sinister and disgusting than its fictional dystopian worlds. Besides, the entire shtick of such dark stories is the use of hyperbole and metaphor to cast light on some current event that would threaten to dehumanise our society. In this case, there is nothing hyperbolic or sci fi about the plot. Such reality shows are happening right before our eyes, and we are on the receiving end. Any attempt at telling moralising parables will only be heard by other bigots locked behind the glass cubicles.

The pandemic has obliterated the independent middle class. We have been utterly screwed, not only during the lockdown months, but also with the long lasting consequences only small businesses must face post economic shutdowns and periods of forced isolation. While we watch our jobs slowly spiralling into the gutter, we are also forced to witness these reality shows of successful, ethical businesses and state institutions attempting to prove how much they care about marginalised, unheard voices.

With every new move from the nudge team, with every new vegan burger ad, with every new environmental measure or policy, with every fire safety, diversity and inclusion move, we are losing yet another big client and must plan ahead for 10% inflation rates and rising petrol fees.

To say that Linkedin has been utterly p0zzed is an understatement. There is no surprise that social media networks, through their very nature as virtual communication means, tend to favour the loosening of bonds, the ‘deterritorialisation and re-territorialisation of assets’, the abstract progressive moral concerns over the concrete conservative ones. We also knew that no company based in Silicon Valley would ever consciously oppose such slow forces. But what we have seen over the past 2 years exceeds all expectations; our feeds have been turned into endless Pride months with ostentatious globohomo art forced upon every post, with algorithms nudging content up or down, either pulling you out of anonymity, or burrying you under 20 layers of soil, locked in iron chains.

Crises are excellent times of reinvention and initiative, self help gurus tell us. Now is the time to come up with some new business formula, to start a campaign. Do not attempt it on Linkedin, however, unless you have decided to stand on the shoulders of giant wankers. If you are a bigot, you deserve to die with the dinosaurs. If you have a business, you will either distort it to fit the matrix, or lose it for good. If you are a young man, don’t ever dream of finding a stable relationship with a healthy woman. If you managed to do that, don’t ever dream of having children. If you’ve had children, against all anti-natalist environmentalist propaganda and shite government policies, don’t ever dream of keeping them safe from the p0z. They will hate you with passion, eat the bugs, block their hormones, mutilate their genitals, dance in front of their tik tok screens with 7 filters of chromatic aberration while shoving vibrators down their surrogate genitals, while you drink yourself to death preferring never having been born. This, my friends, is the predicament we are being faced with in the West. By all means, move your entire frens and families down here; feel the euphoria of cosmopolitan lifestyle; educate your offspring in the values of tolerance and inclusion and knock yourself out with distractions for the rest of your lives. We Have Been So Terribly Betrayed.

II. Tonight, Tonight – Polyphemus
The Much Forward-Facing Vibe Shift – a Response

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