I have rarely felt this dispirited, and felt the need to write this. For the scenes, I drew from a vast history of fiction and film. I have always been a fan of dystopian movies in particular: the last scene of John Carpenter’s The Thing comes back to haunt me more often these days.
I will be fine. I remain, stubbornly and perhaps foolishly, convinced that we can create a better world. But we have to change so, so much about how we go about it.
The end goal is to create an entirely white world, under conditions that drive millions from their homes and into the waiting arms of “enforcement agents.” These same people will join the millions of people already incarcerated, to be “trained” to create everything from license plates to parts for cellphones and more: an enslaved population working for nothing while living out the rest of its collective life in prisons.
Meanwhile, left publishers will continue to recruit writers to produce long reams of “Marxist” analysis for magazines which are substitutes for the academic journals which also never paid anyone and have long disappeared as universities were sliced and diced into near-extinction. These few writers will be the only ones able to afford to live anywhere and eat moderately well, but their money will run out. They will be forced to eventually join the Social Justice lefties who gather around fires in their depressing tent cities and who sing every night, soaked in delusions: songs of solidarity and empathy and love for all, the singers incapable of producing anything beyond a politics of likeability.
The rich will reach a state that is so beyond rich that there will have to be a word that signifies more than “trilionaire” (so 2025!) Those of us who can will clean their toilets and wash their sheets, shuttled into ferociously guarded gated cities at 5 a.m and hustled out before sundown. The few “lucky ones” will be employed as chefs and butlers and teachers of the children of the beyond-rich, strictly supervised to ensure that no stray eggs or pats of butter make their way out. There are no rich old people whose bums need wiping, and no one who is poor but cannot produce manual labour: they are all destroyed as they break down.
All of this is drawn from the narratives we have already produced. We have always known this was coming. We can continue to fight for a better future, but we have to let go of so much.
We are not here because the forces of the Right were better organised or more powerful. We are here because the Left, such as it is, long ago gave up imagining a better world and, instead, got high on crisis.
For more see “What Are We Defending?” and more on this site.
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Image: Detail from Crucifixion and Last Judgement, Jan van Eyck, c. 1430.
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