This is how the world ends. December 21st. Ragnarok. Revelation. End Times. Karmic Retribution. Kali Yuga. Fuck it all. Call it whatever you want, from whatever bullshit faith stole the seers words. Yes, it was going to end.
“these are the times that try mens souls…the summer patriot…” That was the word of the government. Those fucking assholes. What the fuck do they know about patriotism? What gave them the right to use Tommy Paine’s words – those socio-fascist sons of bitches. I remember the days before the war, before the alliances, before the unions, the blocs, before the crash. Hell, I was alive before the stoner selling weed from his parent’s basement was legally considered a “terrorist” – before the small business owners, journalists, and artists started “disappearing.” I remember when I could, had I wanted to, ignore the future that stared us directly in our face. It yelled at us from its perch atop the mountains of Wisdom. There were few who heard the screams.
“..the harder the conflict, the more glorious the triumph” – that was my response to their bastardization of Tommy Paine. That was my response as the NAU came to be – my very same response when our “leaders” took us to war against the EU.
I remember the day I lost hope. I was live-blogging from Washington Square Park. They had already taken the city at that point. The EU soldier was walking over, no doubt to do a scan of my computer contents and inevitably and futily take down one of the many wireless access points that were tripling in number daily….though I had heard the conquerors planned on destroying the google offices in chelsea. No doubt that would take down more than half of the networks. Obviously we couldn’t fight back. The NAU had taken the guns of all the citizens, but the governments that came before had already stripped the men and women of Manhattan of any ability to defend themselves.
I lost hope in one single explosion of a moment. I watched it, as if in slow motion. The scene is burned into my third eye now – a grotesque tatoo on my soul. The masked soldier turned, alerted by the delirious banter of Military Man, the crackhead who was always seen wearing military fatigues and a bluetooth headset that was connected only to his imagination. “Wael how yha doin thare cracka? You wann some wee-” Before he could finish propositioning the soldier for a gram of some heinous schwag, the soldier raised his rifle and squeezed a three round burst of hollow point into Military Man’s headset crowned skull.
There was a bloody mess. It took me a moment to process what I had seen, but there was no shock as I turned away. There was only revelation. That resounding cry from the future resonated through every cell in my body. The cry of dear future’s painful death. This is how the world ends.
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