Diamond Dances in the Sky
Chapter 1: First a fractured glimpse...
Copyright© 2019 by Benjamin Stahl
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 21st 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.
There are Mexicans with guns shooting people up in town, the man say. F•©king Mexicans with guns.
I don’t know, I tell him.
Like shit you don’t know, he say. He aim the shotgun straighter, his finger touching the trigger. I start shaking and my hands come down by accident. I feel like I’m standing at the edge of a canyon.
Put your goddam hands in the air or I’ll blow them off, he shout something like. I start crying. I can’t help it. I don’t know, I kept saying. I couldn’t think what else to say.
I praying for Saint Michael. Please, thou holy archangel, protector of Christians, deliver me from death. Please, my Lord Jesus Christ, send me your angel as I walk through the valley of the shadow of death...
I will fear no evil, I sob.
Huh? The man still cock his gun.
“I will fear no evil. Please”.
The man seem to deliberate. I think he is drunk, he is emotionally troubled. Probably his wife hates him and he doesn’t know when he see his children again. He has lost everything. Either he is about to do something crazy like murder the man who cementing his pool. Or else he too messed up to do anything ... O, Mary, thy devoted spouse, let it be the second option...
You don’t know what’s going on? the man ask. I see he shaking too.
No, I say. I make promise. Please don’t shoot me.
The man hold gun up still. But then his eyes red and watering. He lower it. He say, there’s something going down on main street. A Mexican plow into a café and kill several people. Then a bunch of people on the street have automatics and start firing at everyone. They all Mexican. It isn’t safe to stay here”.
The man speak no more, he turn and go to his garage. He take off in his four-wheel drive, not even bothering to shut the house up. It take me a little while to calm down, but soon I leave pool without covering it. I take my work kit, load my truck and leave. I decided, even what the man say, I go into town. I have to see for myself if what he say was true. If it is, my wife is out there... (The Voices No One Heard, Fennistone, R et al, 2029, p. 89-90)”.
For dramatic effect, the book where this text features does not state if Mr de Santoni found his wife. Given the assumption she was also Mexican and considering the improbability she just happened to be window shopping Main street when the uprising happened, one can believe she got out OK. Besides, despite what history will tell you, the revolutionaries were not nearly as violent – not unanimously, anyway – as they were made out.
“They had machetes and they cut my friend to pieces without mercy,” contradicts this. But if you want to take anything reported on GNC without a mouthful of sulphur that is your choice. The fact of the matter is that there were many unnecessary deaths; there were a number of horrific atrocities committed on the lovely, border-hating people who decided to rough it out in California and the other nearby states. Call it just medicine for a people blinded by their thirst for moral high grounds ... call it a bloody example of national ingratitude, when the hand that feeds is bitten off and sucked of all its tasty morsels ... no one admits they never saw it coming. Which of course is nonsense. Nobody did see it coming. The real difference lay between those who did the modern equivalent of tearing their clothes and screaming at the sky, and those who, already having cut their ties with the Democratic Alliance, sat back smugly in their sofa chairs and parlour lounges, gloating that the people brought this all upon themselves.
A moment of recognition, before we proceed, must be allotted to the kids that snuck BEBA in. Vic Rowling and Natalie Ledstock, two Seattle Open undergraduates, might have been disgruntled with the lack of traction given to their slight conservative bias in the classroom. This was still a thing, even with SenTec, the ever-deepening immorality of Hollywood, the destruction of all churches, mosques and synagogues (barring those gleefully turned into nightclubs or brothels). Misinformation, since the “Russian cyber-invasion brought Ewell to the Main House,” has become appropriated by the “Cons” to interfere with Alliance harmony, corrupting young minds with fascist ideas (Not on Our Soil: Defeating American Fascists, Dillon, P, 2030, p. 112). You must not invoke God or any other “false” deity in tutorial. It has been tirelessly ensured such a thing need never come up. Any media depicting religion as anything but villainous has been altered or straight-up culled. The Left kept their beloved 1984, though even this was changed as some ideas were subject to historical biases rendering its message confusing. The Bible, the Quran, the Talmut – the possession of such texts, while not sufficient for getting disappeared, was still enough to effectively ruin one’s life. The historic day in which all confiscated holy books are burnt around the country – Gideon’s Day, they called it, in a rare moment of wry humour – is celebrated yearly not just throughout the Alliance but the world.
Islam enjoyed its temporary adoption by the Left. After securing rights for Muslims to supplant Christian structures still unwittingly adhered to, these social warriors came to head with a somewhat devastating truth. After a century of systematic dilution, mainstream Christianity had been liberalised to the point of harmless irrelevance. The Pope, then never less respected even among Catholics, was little more than a talking head, reminding Christians in ever more florid nonsense that faith was a virtue and goodness would prevail darkness, whilst simultaneously ceding orthodox values to the mosquito whims of progressivism.
A society, in short, based on Judeo-Christian values was not the dictatorship of superstitious dogma people thought. However, given this collective notion, Christianity’s slipping grasp on modern culture was stamped out. Churches were torched. Schools, medical institutions, even cafes whose owners had the temerity to hang cruciate symbols of hate upon their wall – these fell victim to a range of shame campaigns, violent protest and even terrorism. Muslims took part in this. Statues of Jesus, the Holy Virgin, all the Angels and Saints were taken down and desecrated in the worst kinds of blasphemy (Muslims, it is fair to say, did not take part in this). All in the name of equality, of reversing past wrongs committed solely by white Christians. All in the name of combating hate, prejudice, bigotry and intolerance.
Meanwhile Islam was invulnerable to outrage. While Christians and Zionist (code for “practicing”) Jews were socially and sometimes physically persecuted, Islam was endorsed in the public sphere. Holidays were changed according to the Hijri calendar. Allah’s agents gradually infiltrated the electorate and state systems nationwide.
Sofia Mahjoub became the first Muslim Representative for Florida’s Second Congressional District: she succeeded in getting presidential approval of the ‘Right to Elective Values’ bill. This enabled religious groups (barring Christians “given their populational hierarchy”) to establish localised government bodies that, under transparent State collaboration, could enforce a local system of religious law under which all citizens must at least publicly adhere. Put without jargon, this was a blatant case of the newly Democratic Main House allowing Muslims to form officially supported, democratically elected caliphates subject to Shariah law. Naturally, given the systemic atheism of the State, non-Muslims who remained in such counties were not forced to attend masjid; they were not bound to follow the principles of salat. They were, however, required to respect Islamic values, and to pay monthly sadaqah to the mosque. The killing of unborn children remained illegal in these Muslim sectors of America; contraception was not just banned but liable to fines of over twenty thousand dollars should anyone be caught with them inside a Muslim area. Homosexuals and transpeople, for the most part, had enough sense not to preach their freedom of expression in these places. Many of them left, though there were still reported hate crimes – aggressively supressed by the Defresne Main House – such as the Brevard County Incident, where a solidarity march for LBGT+ and Muslim people was scattered by a posse of Molotov-throwing radicals. The incident birthed a popular meme that graced the confederate network: a famous Drag Queen Primer vlogger found herself amidst the chaos: flapping wildly through the crowd of screaming lingerie-wearing men, her elaborate pink Marge Simpson hair inflamed like a holy pillar, tears sizzling down her cheeks. Zee was unable to continue modelling after that: even the ever-so-tolerant Left could not stomach the crisp naked scalp of the near-faceless victim.
Amongst rising acts of hatred, people were understandably confused. The Christians were gone. They had been made obsolete. Why were people still so terrible to each other? Where is all this intolerance and fear and anger coming from if not the church?
The answer was obvious. And everyone was to blame for allowing the delusional scapegoat of Christian bigotry to endear them towards the exotic otherness of Islam. Much too late, in their eagerness to replace the Nazarene teachings with the Meccan, the compatibility between Abrahamic zealotry and secular society was pushed several centuries back in history. They could not slay the dragon they had bred. It had already formed too great a stronghold for them to peacefully revoke its invitation. Things became worse still when, facing yet another breakage of their once divided nation, nobody was willing to admit they had made a mistake of historic proportions.
When this new Liberal attitude fermented, a wave of fear and anger swept Alliance citizens. The response against an American ummah ironically mirrored that fabricated during President Ewell’s deportations over a decade earlier – all that hullaballoo about Republican Islamophobia. The social backlash against Islamic citizens and their influence (particularly in rural areas) led to a notable rise in actual hate crimes, perpetrators coming out on both sides. As if the streets of Detroit, Beaumont and Orlando were not bad enough – now there were regular gunfights between radical Muslim defenders and the newly-organised Fazis (F•©k Nazis) militia groups, invariably resulting in the collateral deaths of countless civilians.
People can speculate all they want on how this might have developed if the Muslims hadn’t been so adamantly defensive. Might there have been a systematic liquidation of sorts? Would the leftist Alliance, through their intolerance of opposing ideology, have stooped so low as to embrace the evil they so vocally despised? Many have conjectured, especially amongst Confederate academic circles, that a Muslim holocaust was clearly on the horizon. The truth, once again, was a little more complicated. Despite the extent to which any Alliance citizen can be indoctrinated, switching friends to enemies with more regularity than a teenage girl, there was still at least a pretence of compassion amongst the general mass. Most people feared but did not hate their Muslim neighbours – not unless they lost someone personally to their more violent members, from whence they experienced the true Machiavellian nature of their government which erred on acknowledging a side must be definitively taken until Defresne herself was ousted.
In the end, there was no Hitleresque solution to the Muslim problem. Learning from the formation of Confederacy II, it was simply easier to agree to disagree, to formally cut all ties with one another. Imposing a tense new kind of détente, the Islamic Americans were allocated certain geographic areas of Alliance territory. Here they could live and govern as they saw fit. Alongside several disputed territories which would change continuously through the next decade, eastern Oregon, northwest Texas and Florida north of Jacksonville were formally severed from official Alliance jurisdiction. These areas became exclusive Shariah states, renamed Ardallah (“Land of God”), Ardalniqa (“Land of Purity”) and Darih-al-Nabi (“Shrine of the Prophet”) respectively. Though considered at least token Alliance states, their earned independence of action went on so unchallenged that, to all intents and purposes, they were now on their own.
Grouping these areas with those taken by the Lobos movement – the latter unrecognised but assertively defended – the Democratic Alliance only comprised the north Pacific coast, the northern Rocky Mountains, most of Texas, Illinois, Iowa, Indiana and the north Atlantic states. This was basic geography for young citizens learning under the regime. These, they learned, were the only parts of former America worth their salt. Whereas the Confederation was a loose, disjointed collection of fascist states where the only race with a good living standard was the Anglo-Saxon Christian white man.
Indeed, this was not quite true. But those in the upper echelon of the Alliance were savvy enough to know the value of positive illusion. The grass was not greener on the other side. In fact, it was dead and brown and full of snakes. The infallibility of this claim was imperative. The trick, therefore, was to make sure no one ever got a look themselves. Nor to let the snakes without find cracks along the fence. Generally, outside forces were kept well at bay. The Alliance and Confederation were hooked up to different satellite networks, they communicated via separate channels. Despite sharing borders, the disparity between the two might as well be likened to that between this planet and the Moon. This was no ramshackle wooden fence the Alliance had erected to protect against its neighbour. Nor was it metaphorical. This was equivalent to a top-security prison wall. Cracks, from outside or within, were extreme unlikely. In such an event that one did occur, detection would be almost immediate. This at least was the idea. Then Seattle Open happened.
He hearkened not unto them...