Chapter 1: First a fractured glimpse...

First a fractured glimpse...

In the year 2015 of Our Lord, two thousand and fifteen years into what seculars call the “common era” - where in a fictional universe one might have prevented Marty McFly Jr. from succumbing to peer pressure - the citizens of western society were sorely disappointed cars still did not fly, jackets did not dry nor shoe laces tie of their own accord. Hoverboards, at least in the form of their gloriously over-hyped prototype, were and had been since the glittering nineteen-eighties, an actuality. Only, like the firecracker and glovebox Smith & Wesson in more civilized countries, would-be consumers were deprived of this contraption for their health and safety.

In the following decade – 2021 to be precise – an all-female reboot of Back to the Future failed to make half its budget in returns, despite the controversy purposely evoked for its promotion. Aside from not being the triumphant middle-finger to “toxic masculinity,” which, like a cockroach, still refused to die, the film made many false predictions regarding the near-future. 2051: the year of Our rejected Lord: PD 23, if you don’t want SenTec breathing down your neck. Still no flying cars, sorry. Occasionally the wind may bear a murmur from Great China, but like the little voice that cries they’ve found the Hebrew Ark, or advanced varieties of Simias in the substratum of Huozeguo (former Indonesian archipelago) contradictory to evolutionary thought ... such things are not followed up. They leak collective memory like a mysterious bang in the sky; something of momentary excitement but of no lasting impact, that so might as well have never happened; ultimately warranting but a ripple of response.

The true outcome of humankind, up until this point in time, is less sensational. Cars remain limited to the terra-firmal plain, though the technology and engineering ingenuity is there. Rather than technical there emerged a daunting number of logistical challenges. These fell, and still fall short on the growing list of problems faced throughout the global community. There is the leviathan task of passing legislation; the nightmare of planning, constructing, enforcing and maintaining a new mode of travel. And what will happen to traditional roads? At what point will they become obsolete? No politician or nominal leader, sensible and moronic alike, is willing to risk tarnishing their legacy with the potential embarrassment of failing to revolutionize the lives of their people. And while on the subject of politics...

Who or what the (trigger-word) is BEBA?

The question, put forth by Dr Manik Rizayre, made the rounds on Seattle Open’s staff hub.

Peter Lunns responded: This BEBA?

Attached was an instaglance of said alias’s profile, accompanied by a picture of what appeared to be a middle-aged black man sitting atop an electronic elephant. The text beneath this unassuming black guy at Burmese Adventure read: “That will be perfect. I will confirm which one by Friday. Veritas Valebit“.

Peter Lunns: This (trigger-word) has been messaging me the last two weeks. I don’t know who he is or what the (trigger-word) he is talking about.

Wesley Randle: Hi people. I see you’ve been getting this in your inbox as well?

Peter Lunns: Know who zey is, Wes? Think someone’s trolling us?

Wesley Randle: Probably just Nick.

Peter Lunns: Well maybe he should stop? He isn’t just spamming me, he’s actually hacked into my own account.

Wesley Randle: Wait WHAT! How?

Peter Lunns: Yeah. He’s making it look like I’m having a conversation with this BEBA thing.

Wesley Randle: (trigger-word). Hang on.

(On the right-hand-side of the screen, a text box reminds users that it is unlawful to use derogatory, misogynistic, homophobic, transphobic, racist or religious language on any public forum. Those who do not comply will face official inquiry and potentially harsh discipline. SenTec: We are the Sentinel, We are the Ally, We are the Future and We are Your Friend).

Nicholas King: What did I do?

Peter Lunns: BEBA?

Nicholas King: What do you mean?

Peter Lunns: You know who BEBA is?

Nicholas King: No. I swear.

Dr Manik Rizayre: Gentlepeople, I advise you to check your inboxes and find out exactly what you’ve been “talking” to BEBA about. I believe something might be wrong here. I mean something serious.

The United States were not united states anymore. Since the year of Post-Dissolution (2028AD), the scattered regions of Confederacy II (this name adopted by proponents) or the Fourth Reich (as its enemies predictably called it) still clung onto the debris of the past. Throughout its many agricultural and industrial communities, a whiff of the past – albeit, to many, a disagreeable one – can still be found. Whereas the more-connected Democratic Alliance retains the title “of America”. This, however, is only in name. To quote the modern historical reflections of one individual we shall soon look at more closely, Diamond Sincarre, provocative right-wing author, commentator and professional shit-stirrer, wrote in his The Fool of American Civilization (2048):

“California, from the southern San Diego area to the Sonoma county north of San Francisco became inundated with illegal immigrants - asylum seekers, economic migrants, drug cartels and radical Islamists – throughout the early 21^st century. After late President Hutch Ewell was impeached December 2021 on mostly unproved accusations of misappropriated taxation revenue through offshore Panamanian shell companies, Opa Defresne dissolved the Republican party on the impetus of the political scandal, reversing Ewell’s border protection policies, abolishing the You-Well Medicare Program, shutting down and replacing domestic contractual agreements with the Rust Belt Industry Groups and formally initializing the Arivada Collaboration Act of 2025, whereby large areas of Arizona and Nevada were ceded to Chinese mining companies for the mass-extraction of molybdenum and copper minerals. Following the impeachment of Ewell (who disappeared in the summer of 2022), in direct result of Defresne’s pro-immigration, anti-security policies, the southwest America coast saw an unmitigated influx of culturally incompatible forces” (p. 11).

The loss of south California was a complex moment in the last chapter of America’s history – one orchestrated by the work of many hands, many opposed yet co-contributing factors. The “unmitigated influx” of illegal immigrants, virtually paraded across the Mexican border, was a significant step towards annexation. Certainly the “right-wing pundits, the bigoted naysayers and the white Christian snowflakes” (Trojan Caravans: How Mexican Nationalists overthrew their Liberal Benefactors, Diamond Sincarre, 2030, p. 229) classed this as the solitary reason, adopting the coveted we-warned-you platform. The truth of the matter, however, was that overpopulating America with dispossessed, unemployed and unemployable aliens, these unfortunate souls infected with a radicalised minority – many forming hostile caliphates - was only part of the greater catalyst. Indeed, it was primarily this that brought about heightened carbon fuel penalties, a greater though publicly denied increase of murderous hate crimes - these contributing to a general lowering of living standards, legal accountability, job security and business investments which in turn harkened a massive exodus of middleclass Californians. This unprecedented depletion within consumerist classes caused widespread unemployment, a twelve-times-over surplus of proletariat labour forces, yet paradoxically a devastating lack of productivity resulting in service deficits and food shortages nearing the destitution of post-revolution Russia. It was following this period, which in total lasted almost four years – seeing the continued migration of primarily Anglo-Americans to the reinvigorated Midwest or Eastern Seaboard – that the Overseer (Special Elect Jekkard Bolton) declared a state of emergency. This is when Danilo Lobos, arch-traitor, national hero, hated dissident, Latino people’s Moses – entered the scene.

Colleges are not what they used to be. In fact, they have not been what they used to be for so long, one would be forgiven for doubting they had ever been the way they allegedly used to be at all. As it was, Seattle Open had not seen anything of considerable note in a long time. Not unless you counted the Literal Shitfest, where scholars ate and drank like pigs all day, then at midnight joined to form an orgiastic mob round Marcus Whitman. This was the only historical statue remaining on any campus north of the thirty-eighth parallel; its survival was conditionally dependent on this annual night of November. For rather than pay homage to the good physician and missionary, these people of the future, these children of men enlightened from the blinding dogma of cross-born faith, released their essence on the stained, slimy feet of this bad racist white man. Puking, circle jerking like a cult of Satanists, piss-saber fighting over history’s ankles, defecating onto their hands, flinging shit upon the statue and each other, wailing hoarsely. Maybe colleges always used to be like this. Who really knows anymore? One thing, however, is certain: when BEBA came, when this singular name who so long had plagued the school’s aloof intelligentsia was given a face, was snuck into the very bowels of the Democratic Alliance, no one knew what was about to hit them...

Wherever one draws the line politically, whatever moment or collection of moments they define as marking the beginning of the end of the United States of America, there will invariably be one name that shows up. From an overwhelming literature of unauthorized though gluttonously devoured biographies, partisan hit-pieces, lurid psychological “wank-fests” by conceited professors looking for extra money, the public conception of Ecuadorian-born radical rebel-leader, Danilo Lobos is a largely mythical one.

“His conjectured upbringing in itself is controversial. His impoverished roots, his persecuted parents having fled the nuclear wastes of Iran’s obliterated capital, sits uncomfortably with the Left of former America. Harder still is the fact that young Danilo was given with his mother to the Ecuadori Temez (a violent faction of Esmeralda separatists) where, among other injustices, he watched his mother suffer at the hands of the men. Some claim he was routinely forced to have sex with animals, resulting in unimagined developments of sexual appetite - things of a nature best not described though if you look you will easily find them” (Embracing Evil: The Secret Life of Danilo Lobos, Sincarre, D, 2032, p. 87).

To understand the way things now are, how and why the Dissolution really came about, the rise of Danilo Lobos and his nationalist movement is a necessary subject to address. While the Democrats fiercely opposed the preventative measures of President Ewell, whose second term was cut short by his much-anticipated impeachment, emigrants and refugees flooded en masse across the border, inhabiting the southern towns of Arizona, California, New Mexico and Texas. This has already been stated. What has not though – what indeed was not suspected until it was much too late – was that hidden in amongst these millions of people, such as what the Democratic opposition so effectively exploited for their own cynical means to power – was a militant force of revolutionaries, well-equipped, well-trained, well-idealized, well-directed. To quote a narrative recorded by one Huego de Santoni, a Mexican-American contractor who found himself near the border town of Tukjah Rocks, Arizona:

“The afternoon was very hot and windy so the owner call me into the kitchen. Said did I want a beer and a rest. We sit in the shade on the back steps. I wanted to smoke but I didn’t see no ashtrays. The owner was divorce, he tell me. He just move into the house since he lose his house in Phoenix. His ex-wife and kids live there. I no feel comfortable talking about this because he sound a little strange. I start thinking how much beers he drunk already? It is so hot though and the wind throwing dirt at the windows like there will be a sand storm. We sit down a little while longer then the phone ring and he say he can’t be bothered answering it. I say I better get back to work and leave my beer not finished cause I not really meant to be drinking during the week.

When I get to the pool I hear the phone ringing again. The wind now blown much new dust into the pool and I thinking I’m not going finish filling it this day now. I will have to tell the owner. I started packing my things when, this the third time now, the phone inside the house start ringing. The owner shouted something in the kitchen and I hear something break. The ringing stop. I guess he finally answer it or maybe he throw his phone out the window, I don’t know. I keep packing my things then I’m on my way through the gate to tell him I go.

He appear at the door looking at me with a funny look on his face. I see that he is holding a shotgun and with this he start walking at me. He stop and raise it at me. Aimed it right at my chest. I freeze right there. I very scared. I have not been threatened with gun before. It is very much worse than I ever thought it would be. You see it happen so much in movies you don’t think it actually would be that scary.

The man ask me what I’m doing.

I thought you cannot expect me to fill pool when it’s blowing like this. I come I do it on Monday. But what he say next surprise me.

You want my house? He say. Wanna take my money? I got news for you buddy, I just blew my savings on that pool you been working on.

With my hands in the air I say I don’t know what you are talking about. I no want your house or your money. I come here to work. Please put the gun down.

He keep the gun right where it is. I feel like I need to go to the toilet and I think what if he shoots me and I let everything go? They say, the people who have to clean up after someone takes a gun into school and kills his friends, these little boys and girls are so torn apart by bullets you see the food they ate for breakfast leaking out their stomachs.