This is a new segment where I debut an original short story that I feel might have the trappings of the beginnings of a movie or T.V. show. Feel free to provide me with feedback at vaf89@hotmail.com. Your feedback will be evaluated and commented on in a special "Mailbag" segment to be posted tomorrow. Enjoy.
3001: A space tragedy
It is the year 3001. Our world is one of ruin and peril. Humans have been relegated to the role of “pitiful warrior” under the rule of President Nixon. Let me explain. My name is Lance MacGuffin, and this is my story.
Around 2350 our best and brightest scientists discovered a way to keep humans alive…somewhat. You see, they weren’t able to revive human bodies, but instead, were able to revive human brains and tissue. Basically, this allowed for dead people to have their heads revived and placed into glass containers that are filled with serum X159(a liquid that, in lemans terms, allows the head to function, think, and talk). Thus entered a time of awe and wondrous amazement at the reality that our deceased family members could now be brought back from death to live with us all again, albeit in a lesser form.
Fast forward to the Earth election of the year 2999. Every single President that ever held the office is now in the current running. Washington, Lincoln, and Gore(elected in 2008 as the Green party candidate) were all close front-runners up until Nixon threw his hat into the ring. The time we lived in just a few years ago was one of absolutely zero worry. So, while Washington, Lincoln, and Gore were touting a strategy of diplomacy, Nixon held onto a platform loaded with grand promises of unattainable wealth and fortune to be granted to all humans. He threw out one crazy fishing line, but, for some reason, people bit. Nixon won with the biggest landslide in voting history with 87% of all Earth voters. I remember saying that day: May God have mercy on us all.
Within the first few months of his tenure, Nixon gave every man, woman, and child on Earth $1,000,000. It was meant to be a quick fix to any and all problems that the average family might encounter. But with great wealth came great power, and with great power comes great responsibility. Responsibility that the people of Earth were not ready to handle. People took their money and became power-hungry. People used the money to buy protection: weapons, security systems, hired muscle. People slowly became defensive. They grew to believe that everyone was out to steal their possessions, of which were vast. Arguments became riots, and riots became bloodbaths. People had grown to become too materialistic. The National Guard couldn’t break up the riots because the people starting the riots were able to afford weapons and defense equipment that was on par, if not better, then theirs. This brings me to the present day: The Apocalypse.
The Apocalypse did not come in the form of four horsemen. It came in the form of six billion people that have way too much money and no way to control their lust for greed. I live in a small system of underground tunnels that were left behind from the war of 2476. I am surrounded with the few people, like me, that did not fall for Nixon’s cop-out of a platform. We return to the surface only to stock up on food and water, nothing else. I have no family. My wife and daughter were killed by surface dwellers that had literally gone crazy with power. Power that was given to them by their wealth. Wealth that was given to them by Nixon.
I used to spend my days playing with my little girl in the backyard and making love to my wife. Now my days are filled with playing mind games to keep occupied and making love to a bottle of water that I pretend is whiskey. I can remember times of great joy: watching my daughter run off to her first day of preschool, marrying my wife, spending time together with close friends. Now I can remember more recent times of great fear and sadness: the day the riots started, the time that a surface dweller found our hideout and I was forced to kill him, and the day my family was taken from me way too soon.
Nixon? I don’t know what happened to him. Maybe he jumped on Space Force One and fled to the Moon colony. Hopefully, maybe the surface dwellers realized what had become of them and decided to destroy the root of their problem. Honestly, it doesn’t matter to me now. All I am concerned about is living to write to you[someone, anyone] another day. For when this moment in history passes, it must never be forgotten. It must be used as an example of what can happen when greed and power get into the hands of many.
Greed has turned a once peaceful race into an army of pitiful warriors: people who fight for survival in a battle that never had to happen yet is now necessary if you absolutely desire to stay alive.
3001: A space tragedy
It is the year 3001. Our world is one of ruin and peril. Humans have been relegated to the role of “pitiful warrior” under the rule of President Nixon. Let me explain. My name is Lance MacGuffin, and this is my story.
Around 2350 our best and brightest scientists discovered a way to keep humans alive…somewhat. You see, they weren’t able to revive human bodies, but instead, were able to revive human brains and tissue. Basically, this allowed for dead people to have their heads revived and placed into glass containers that are filled with serum X159(a liquid that, in lemans terms, allows the head to function, think, and talk). Thus entered a time of awe and wondrous amazement at the reality that our deceased family members could now be brought back from death to live with us all again, albeit in a lesser form.
Fast forward to the Earth election of the year 2999. Every single President that ever held the office is now in the current running. Washington, Lincoln, and Gore(elected in 2008 as the Green party candidate) were all close front-runners up until Nixon threw his hat into the ring. The time we lived in just a few years ago was one of absolutely zero worry. So, while Washington, Lincoln, and Gore were touting a strategy of diplomacy, Nixon held onto a platform loaded with grand promises of unattainable wealth and fortune to be granted to all humans. He threw out one crazy fishing line, but, for some reason, people bit. Nixon won with the biggest landslide in voting history with 87% of all Earth voters. I remember saying that day: May God have mercy on us all.
Within the first few months of his tenure, Nixon gave every man, woman, and child on Earth $1,000,000. It was meant to be a quick fix to any and all problems that the average family might encounter. But with great wealth came great power, and with great power comes great responsibility. Responsibility that the people of Earth were not ready to handle. People took their money and became power-hungry. People used the money to buy protection: weapons, security systems, hired muscle. People slowly became defensive. They grew to believe that everyone was out to steal their possessions, of which were vast. Arguments became riots, and riots became bloodbaths. People had grown to become too materialistic. The National Guard couldn’t break up the riots because the people starting the riots were able to afford weapons and defense equipment that was on par, if not better, then theirs. This brings me to the present day: The Apocalypse.
The Apocalypse did not come in the form of four horsemen. It came in the form of six billion people that have way too much money and no way to control their lust for greed. I live in a small system of underground tunnels that were left behind from the war of 2476. I am surrounded with the few people, like me, that did not fall for Nixon’s cop-out of a platform. We return to the surface only to stock up on food and water, nothing else. I have no family. My wife and daughter were killed by surface dwellers that had literally gone crazy with power. Power that was given to them by their wealth. Wealth that was given to them by Nixon.
I used to spend my days playing with my little girl in the backyard and making love to my wife. Now my days are filled with playing mind games to keep occupied and making love to a bottle of water that I pretend is whiskey. I can remember times of great joy: watching my daughter run off to her first day of preschool, marrying my wife, spending time together with close friends. Now I can remember more recent times of great fear and sadness: the day the riots started, the time that a surface dweller found our hideout and I was forced to kill him, and the day my family was taken from me way too soon.
Nixon? I don’t know what happened to him. Maybe he jumped on Space Force One and fled to the Moon colony. Hopefully, maybe the surface dwellers realized what had become of them and decided to destroy the root of their problem. Honestly, it doesn’t matter to me now. All I am concerned about is living to write to you[someone, anyone] another day. For when this moment in history passes, it must never be forgotten. It must be used as an example of what can happen when greed and power get into the hands of many.
Greed has turned a once peaceful race into an army of pitiful warriors: people who fight for survival in a battle that never had to happen yet is now necessary if you absolutely desire to stay alive.
