Lazy writer. Doom merchant. Potterer. Communist scumbag.37 - he/him
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Achieving political change might seem impossible, but what you can do is find two cishet boys and convince them to transition. Now (as trans women) they each have a vested interest in resisting fascism. It's their problem now. How does one resist fascism? Well. Each of them just has to find two cishhet boys...
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Pumpkin patch update for 16th July 🎃
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I hate when spiders spend all day making a neat little web on my tucked in wing mirror. Like, sorry bud, I can't leave it like this. It's not a Peugeot.
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Pumpkin update for 22 June. The heat hasn't been appreciated by the plants, but plenty of water has kept them going. They have started to vine and there are even some budding pumpkins under some of the flowers.
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Update for May 7th
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musk is going to die in a Tesla explosion in 6 months after sticking his nose where it doesn't belong and we will never get a conclusive answer on whether it was a CIA car bomb or just a normal Tesla malfunction
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The year is 2045
You place flowers on the cemetery fence. You had to queue just to do it. With thousands paying their respects on the anniversary of the leader’s death, the fence is lined waist high with flowers, wreaths, photos of the leader and some just saying ‘thank you’ in red roses.
It’s a national holiday, where better to spend it than with family. You take out your cellphone and call your mother. She can’t have you round for dinner, the medibot diagnosed her with cancer this morning. She says not to worry, she’s booked in this afternoon to have the cells removed. A docbot will be doing the procedure, it’s got a 100% survival rate and she stubbornly refuses to be the one who changes that. You wish her well and Siri automatically sends her a get well soon card on your behalf. By the time she gets it, she’ll probably be well anyway.
Siri also sensed you need a cab, and already digitally hailed one for you. It’s pulling up with your name on the board above the windshield. With no driver to talk to, you jump in the front seat and ask it where you should go today. It suggests some pubs and a good place to watch the parade from, but you have a hankering for nostalgia, so you ask it to take you to the people’s palace.
You roll up outside the palace, looking up at its imposing majesty. For centuries the home of royalty, now the home of British values and culture. You walk through the scanners without a beep, the Face ID and your RFID chip verify your identity and you’re politely welcomed to the palace by a hologram of Stephen Fry, who informs you that tea is available in the café.
Your AI probably realised that you haven’t had a drink in a few hours, you think, and proceeded to the café as Stephen informs the person behind you where they can find the toilets. The order terminal identifies you and predicts that you’d like a builder’s tea, lots of milk and two sugars. It reminds you that this leaves you only 3 more teaspoons of sugar for your daily quota and then instructs you to confirm your payment of £5 with your RFID. You wave your hand over the payment panel and it thanks you for your custom and instructs you to take a seat.
You check your bank balance, £132.36 left. It used to seem like a pittance but life is different now. You don’t have rent, you don’t have to pay for basic food or utilities. You get your £300 a month for leisure and that’s enough. Even transport is free now. The only problem is finding enough things to do with your time.
This is better than how you spent the holiday last year, your head in a VR headset, playing Elder Scrolls. You think back, that was just after you were made redundant. Most people were unemployed now, the word had a whole new meaning. Only those who’s jobs weren’t able to be automated still showed up at work. A handful of politicians, security staff and military, almost all the rest was automated. Even movies were made by AI now from the ground up. Thinking of movies, your watch reminds you that the 181st MCU movie is out today and you have a 97% chance of rating it 90%+ on rotten tomatoes.
You sigh, feeling depressed at your lack of autonomy. That job made you feel like something, at least. You could say machines ran the world, but at least you ran the machines. Now there was a humanoid robot that could do what you did, only better. The bitter irony of training it had left a bad taste in your mouth.
Your watch buzzes, Siri has sensed your depression coming back and your micropill is releasing serotonin to bring you back up from ‘melancholy’ to ‘cheerful’. A smiley face appears on your watch face.
You finish your tea and take a stroll around the palace, taking a walk down the avenue of change, viewing some of the innovations and political leaders who saw us through the turmoil of the past few decades. Capitalism was doomed and we all saw it coming. We didn’t know what had to come in it’s place but we knew it had to be better. In its glass case stood ‘boudicca’, an 11 foot tall, wooden guillotine, still stained with the blood of right wing leaders, wax heads of Boris Johnson, Nigel Farage and Rupert Murdoch in the basket. Stephen talks the crowd through the early days of the uprising, led by our glorious leader, which set us on the path of revolution not just for ourselves but for the world.
You take a stroll into the next room. Your stomach growls, you could do with something to eat. You use the dispensing machine, it verifies your ID and offers some selections. You choose a Yorkie, but it tells you no, reminds you of the weight problem you’d developed since you left the workforce, and suggests an alternative. A ‘chuckolate’ bar is dispensed. It’s almost chocolate, you think, just try not to think about what it’s made of.
The next room details the resistance, those who wouldn’t accept the changes that Mother Earth had made clear needed to happen. Some hung onto individualism, rejecting the greater good. Bankers, Landlords, industrialists, titles as meaningless in this world as Lords and Dukes had become in theirs. Their money was seized, their property was seized, the means of production turned over to the state on behalf of the workers. That was how it was meant to be, you’re reminded by Stephen as he explains the re-education facilities.
That tea has gone through you, you need to find a toilet. They’re all gender neutral, though you still look for the little gender symbols even after all these years due to your conditioning in school, before the new social curriculum came in. You shut your cubicle door and sit down for your pee, noticing the seashell cleaner isn’t working properly and telling Siri to report it to management. The sensors assess your urine and send the results to your phone, Siri informs you that you’re slightly dehydrated and to go easy on the sugar with your next tea. You wash and irradiate your hands before passing them under the sensors. Your hands are approved, the light turns green and you’re allowed out of the cubicle.
You continue this tour, the serotonin being gently released to keep you happy as you look at the British moon lander, models of the Northern Irish Bridge, statues of the glorious supreme leader, on your way to the final room. It shows the struggle the empire is still undertaking to turn the savage parts of the world over to this new way of life. It’s essential, Stephen reminds us, that no matter the atrocities committed, we have no choice. Mother Earth has willed that these changes take place and anyone who stands in the way of progress must be moved aside. Never feel guilty for the actions of the empire, for they’re all for the greater good.
Your phone buzzes. A news report, you sigh with relief. Finally, Washington has surrendered and accepted colonial rule once again. And on Revolution day of all days, you reflect on the irony. Time for a celebratory scone, easy on the jam.
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