My Writing and Art lives here….
Brazen False Authority
Rides Deception’s Wings
Rules our Modern Times
& Plans Your Demise
Its Mouths Multiplied
Eyes Everywhere
Ears Engaged
It Counts Down
The Predetermined Date
The Final Flaunted Fling
Where You Will Demand
The Sale Of Your Soul
Is Finally Finalised
By Martin Anton Smith ( Listen to audio! Click here > https://spotifyanchor-web.app.link/e/omQpHtnaJub )
Marcel Smithski age 29 was definitely a Walter Mitty type character. He was a ‘History buff’, practically spending half his life bumming around musty old urban bookshops hidden down the numerous alleyways of his hometown of Melbourne Australia. He loved the obligatory parts of second-hand book store culture: the smell of the musty books, the nerdy bespectacled & rake thin staff always reading at the cashier desk. He loved the thrill of the chase, of finding that hidden gem such as Steven J Gould, Christopher Hitchens, Bukowski, Orwell, Hawking or Bertrand Russell or any number of the numerous brilliant minds that lined those dusty tall shelves.
After a typical book hunting session, he retired to his bohemian digs in St Kilda. He lived in a weird boarding house built in Edwardian times; it was at base beautiful property but like them all – it was now simply a faded memory of its former self. He continued the second half of his creature of habit ritual -shutting himself away in his room, lying on his bed and beginning a 7-hr read-a-thon. He was perusing his latest great find called “The Great Depression: A Diary by Benjamin Roth – a blow by blow account of the great depression years from the viewpoint of a professional man.
Not long into the session his mind began to think of the 1930’s – and this triggered his Walter Mitty dreaming. He was dreaming again of being the world’s only ever successfully ‘Benevolent Dictator’. Priorly of course, he had read about the 1930’s era of terribly nasty despots – with of course Hitler, Mussolini Stalin, & Mao Tse Tung being the most famous warlords.
Smithski started to think of the whole ‘1920’s -1940s rise of the Dictators epoch’ and why it had happened & what went wrong. Smithski thought to himself, as if talking to another deadbeat intellectual in one of the many St Kilda cafe’s along Acland or Fitzroy St.
“Their main problem was they forgot their roots – that of creating a better life for the working classes and the poor. All of them had at the start had the kernel of a better way for the downtrodden, the result being their emancipation from systemic bourgeois exploitation. But They all became corrupted with general adulation & fame, the company & adoration of the well-heeled aristocracy, personal opulence via casual access to other people’s money”.
In theory, Smithski knew that it wasn’t the fact that they were Dictators that made them all bad – it was that they had allowed themselves to be corrupted. This massive flaw – corruption – was the key tendency of centralised planning or leadership – & the core reason Dictators destroy their countries from within & if given the chance – everyone else’s.
Smithski, after much pondering had realised that if a single person – a ‘Dictator’ – could make the best decisions at the time, time after time & year after year – this would actually be the best form of Government. Logically we live in a world of decisions, often these are trade-offs & there is an ideal trade-off between two or more competing interests.
Often decisions are hard as they require difficult to collect & analyse data; decisions are hard because of bureaucracy, limited access to technology, lack of funds, political adversaries that block good ideas, an uneducated voting public etc etc. If your “Perfect Dictator” was multi skilled, a genius, hugely life experienced, technically proficient, persuasive, a great organiser, morally robust, healthy & confidant – then it would be best if he or she made all the hard decisions with no red tape or unnecessary voting theatrics. Smithski reasoned that one day the gem that was the ‘perfect singular leader’ would eventually happen – simply by mathematical chance coupled with the unfurling of thousands of years of Human history.
Smithski was lying on his messy bed, eyes glazed staring at the cobwebbed ceiling & dreaming of being that perfect Dictator that would indeed save the world. He imagined being the young proto benevolent Dictator who was just beginning to be noticed by the world.
Now deeply ensconced in the dreamtime he imagines penning & then delivering a perfectly imperfect speech to the world’s population. The topic? – it was about the most pressing matter of the current era – the War in Europe that had recently sparked when Russia Invaded the Ukraine. His speech in front of all the worlds ‘fake dignitaries’ & it’s billions of couch-sitting masses would be beamed to an Internet & TV audience of at least 4 billion. Smithski imagined himself making the speech from some Globalist thinktank conference podium that he’d somehow sneaked himself into through some shrewed underhand sleight of hand.
“Hello there fake dignitaries! You are the scum of the earth – and you know it. You have no values and no interests in making life better for your constituents. No, you have long since sold your souls to the “fake elites” who are much richer than you, have much higher status than you. You see that is the problem – you rats have all got into the Politician/Ceo/Executive game not to help your fellow man – you have got into the game to feather your own nest & to try to curry favour with those rich narcissists who actually want chaos for the 99% of the population.
These are the people who want to ensure slavery not only continues to exist – but they want to see it thrive. You see these devil inspired pond scum love exclusivity – they need to reject others. in this rejection they feel good – for they feel superior. You false elite have gathered here not to “save the world” as is in the blurbs of your press releases -you are here to reject your fellow man & to party with your fellow fallen angels.
You hate the average joe & jane. You have decided to make them as stupid as possible. If they are stupid slaves, they will never realise they are slaves thus never revolt. You aim is to destroy the truth. To do this your population my not want to read past History. To do this you have invented the mass internet service – which you initially allowed to be free and uncensored. This was the honey to catch the flies. Within a decade half the world was online. then you started to censor it – you started to mess with algorithms. These algorithms loaded the dice towards traditional players and away from anything new. Away from anyone that wanted freedom from your tyranny. You gave 3 men total governorship & control & censorship of the worldwide internet communications!”
Smithski took a breath – to assess the drawn faces in the crowd. There was the contorted masculine face of Ursela Van Der Lube – she had a massive upside-down frown. Her wrinkles were as deep as the Grand Canyon. Her eyes were like pinholes. Her hair was like a butch lesbian’s from 1989. She was the President of the EU – she was promoted by the American sector of the dark side – for her meekness and spinelessness. She was a German and she had allowed Germany to cede her sovereignty to the American shadowy faces that told her what to do. She allowed people to micro manage her.
There was messy blonde-haired & overweight Norris Nonsent – the current UK Prime minister. Nonsent was best described as a middle aged ‘Ancient Greek Parable’ quoting, over entitled boarding-schooler. Yes, this fat little piggy had a rode his silver tongue into 10 Downing Street, on the back of the orchestrated wave of Nationalism that was the fake news of the UK leaving the EU economic market. Of course, this “Public Vote for the Future Direction of the UK” was far from an organic popular initiative – it was all centrally planned by the Shadowers.
The Shadower’s had noticed that the public’s anger levels were reaching a dangerous crescendo, and could slip over from ‘sporadic anarchy’ – which they liked – into ‘general anarchy’ – which they didn’t want yet. To mitigate this they created a diversion – a ‘political mirage’ if you will. They fashioned a popular movement called “Next-Fit” – which was in actual fact just a retention of the ‘status quo’. The working man, woman & child would still be eating shite sandwiches & there would be no “Economic Divorce With The EU’ at all.
The theory behind the “Next-Fit” plan was that the potentially revolutionary, working-class & poor half of the public could be fooled into transferring their downtrodden anarchic energies into the non-violent chatter of “Fighting To Save Britain” & nationalistic proclamations of “I’m Voting for NextFit”.
This stealing & reworking of the working classes revolutionary mojo culminated in a “Pro or Anti NextFit” referendum vote. This would of course result in a pre-determined outcome – Yes Vote for NextFit, and the resignation of the current “anti NextFit” Pm. He would be replaced by the supposed people’s man & “Pro NextFit” Puppet PM Norris Nonsent. The incumbent PM would be the fall guy.
If all went right with the plan – which it did- the people would feel like they had triggered a mini ‘Peoples Revolution’, bask in their success, and thus a return to being easily controlled docile sheep. Mission accomplished.
There was the New Zealand Pm Jackie Aldren – she was relatively young at 41 and was handed the leadership because she was a woke meek careerist and an easily influenced nut job. Her prime asset to the shadow people was she adored celebrity & status. The more she had the more she could love herself. The more vacuous & famous people she could take selfies, the happier she was. She was rake thin and had 5 years into her Prime-Ministership started to look grey gaunt and cadaverous. She like the typical Shadow employee had always been a Public Servant – i.e. she had never been in an environment where ridiculous ideas naturally died off. The ‘Shadowers’, as he had dubbed them, never hired Politicians that had been independent & successful businessmen. They needed clueless morons who would shovel as much of their shit into the mouths of the captive poverty stricken, who were now as designed – a very mentally ill & downtrodden populace.
There was Andrew Laconizie – the Australian PM. He was of course ‘Just Another Wokester Premier’. But his situation was sadder than Jackie Aldren’s. He had been the son of a battler – a single mother on welfare. He had the chance as and MP and then as PM to try to make people like him have better lives. Laconizie had until age thirty, when he became a MP, lived a ‘tough life’ marked by poverty & privation. But because he chose politics instead of private industry – the die was cast. He wouldn’t be helping anyone. He had ‘put his hat’ into a game whereby you had to sell out any community values to progress upwards. In this rotten game called ‘Politics’ they had a strict rule: If you had been from a poor upbringing – they would only present the ‘ladder of opportunity’ if you agreed to pull the ladder up on the public once you yourself had climbed it. Andrew Laconzie had long since done his ‘devil’s deal’ & he signed his soul away on that shadowy dotted line.
There was French Premier Manuel Slamacaroon. This guy had a mummy complex. When he was 5 years old, he had become infatuated with his 29-year-old teacher. He told her he would marry her – and 30 years later he did just that. When he married her at age 35, she was one year away from claiming superannuation. T
he ‘Shadowers’ loved a freak like Slamacaroon. This guy was so odd he had no idea about the average ‘creme bun loving’ Frenchman that read and talked in the cafes. He had like all the numbskulls presided over a deteriorating society where his people lost wages, became mentally sick and committed suicide in record numbers. He had allowed France to lose sovereignty just like all those vacuous prior French & International Premiers. He gladly entertained the Fascism that was internet censorship. Yes, he took it from behind & the ‘Shadowers’ were the delivery boys.
Then there was John Bluffoon – the US President. He had a 10-centimeter line of drool hanging from his mouth, and was not just asleep but was snoring & breaking wind periodically. This guy was now 85 and drooling constantly, forgetting where he was, coughing uncontrollably, falling over all the time, talking in total gibberish. He – just like the others – had been installed as a ‘Puppet’ by the ‘Shadowers’, and so had no real power whatsoever. He could not even order the flavour of ice cream he wanted – his wife did that for him. In this case the Shadowers had installed him via two methods: stuffed fabricated ballots & and electronic voter machine fraud. Bluffoon’s presidential ‘win’ this second time around was successfully stolen from the real winner, the incumbent President – Don Trumpf. The Shadowers had redeemed themselves – the leader of the ‘free world’ was as per usual their Puppet, and they the Puppet Masters.
Before his presidency, Trumpf was a successful businessman & TV star – he was one of the most recognisable faces on the planet, known for his persuasion and supreme confidence – if not also a likable blowhard. Late in life, as he’d already achieved everything else, Trumpf decided to make a run for President – mainly just for fun. He never expected to ‘get in’ – but the disaffected working classes had voted him in on the back of his utopian working-class vision he had espoused in his stump speeches on the campaign trail.
Come mid-election night it was clear Trumpf had gotten in ‘accidentally’ – the Shadowers had assumed this ‘TV Celeb’ big talker would be seen as a joke by the people – so they didn’t bother rigging the election. He wasn’t seen as a joke. So Trumpf had his 4 years as President – much the Shadower’s chagrin. The next time they corrected for their mistake and paid ‘mules’ to stuff thousands of unmonitored ballot mailboxes with ballots that were printed off in their tens of thousands. It took only 90,000 of these harvested Ballots – all sent to ‘swing state’ ballot boxes coupled with electronic voter machine hacking – to steal the election.
Smithski was amazed he had not been taken off the stage yet – but them again he was just an uninvited guest who had simply walked up to the mic & started talking. He had thrived off the unpredictability of the situation. He was not upset, but was emboldened by the several thousand drawn faces of the governmental & corporate toady globalist puppets in the crowd.
He had flustered the officials off stage – they were flipping frantically through their clipboards trying to find a name that did not exist.
Smithski then decided it was time to out the Shadow People’s ‘Grand Plan’ – that is the depopulation of planet Earth via an orchestrated Nuclear World War 3. There would after the War be only be 500 thousand people left. this comprised of the core shadow people – which was 1000 people – and their 4000 strong friends & entourage; the remaining 495 000 would be their slaves – slaves for work & slaves for adult pleasures & other casual entertainment. With this new post ww3 world would have their own personalised & updated version of the bible’s Sodom & Gomorrah tale.
In this dystopia of their choosing, the 1000 strong elite status Shadowers would freely rape pillage and sacrifice the slaves – often even drinking their blood. Smithski was about to expose it all, he had hacked into the ‘Inner 5’ Shadow leadership – he had gained access to the email which had the manifesto of the “Sodom & Gomorrah & Depopulate Master Plan”. He would kill the plan before its final battle was ready to be rolled out.
Then he heard a loud ‘pop’ sound – his head was thrown back, he hit the ground, he felt blood flee from his stricken body. He had been assassinated. He knew this would probably happen – but he had prepared for this situation. He had arranged a system whereby if he didn’t stop the process each day, an email would send to every active email address ever activated. Tomorrow the people, the ‘great unwashed’ would have the Shadowers ‘Depopulation Plan’ Manifesto – and they could mount a rebellion. they would organise a pre-emptive strike on the structure of this global satanic inspired organisation. With the last few seconds of life his mouth formed a sweet grin -that of a man that had had a good life & knew his legacy would unfold as planned.
Smithski suddenly was awoken from his lucid daydreaming by an almighty racket from the kitchen. It was the sound of pots & pans flying and raised voices. It was the power crazy tall middle-aged Dutchman in a slanging match with his long-term adversary – the middle-aged fat Cypriot. Words were exchanged & pots flew but never a fist did fly. Being older men, they were happy to use old world, now unacceptable terminology.
“I’ll kill you, you, fat wog Cypriot c*nt”
“Try it you Stamp collecting Dutch Imperialist Wanker”
“I will you ugly fat mechanic dog!”
“You’re just a Dutch fag Loser!”
“Says you, you mulatto-man fatso pig!”
It always ended just at the point when you’d expect it to get physical – the Cypriot who was smaller would self-preserve and skulk back to his shack, while the Dutchie would glide back to his room self-satisfied & triumphant once again. At heart they were good guys – like many of the middle-aged life & had just done them in. All they had left to interest them was petty share-house pecking order politics.
“One day I’ll leave this weird dump” Smithski thought. One day I’ll find a better paying job, a decent woman & move into a much better street. Of course, Smithski knew this probably would never happen – at heart he loved the culture of being an intellectual bohemian in the gutters of life – for this would allow the Walter Mitty lifestyle to live on forever. A ‘Walter Mitty Character’ would never actually live in a mansion on a hill with a trophy wife, two children and a golf club membership – and neither would Smithski. Never ever would he step down in his role as the aging bohemian perennial daydreamer – always dreaming of alternate realities where he finally and at long last – ‘comes good’.
Smithski turned to the next page of “The Great Depression: A Diary”, as usual he had almost completely forgotten the details his latest lucid day dream, he knew this was a good one – but he wasn’t really that worried, knew another was brewing just around the corner of a delightfully musty, bookshelf at a bookstore down a dark alleyway.
As he flipped the page, he thought to himself – “If there was a new Great Depression, I wouldn’t even notice the difference – my life would hardly change”. This realisation sent a happy grin across Smithski’s whiskered, already too lined, but none the less rustically handsome face. He kept on reading – after all, it was only two minutes to midnight, with still four hours to go in his usual read-a-thon.
He was about to turn the page when he saw something move outside his open window – he didn’t worry as Carlisle Street in Saint Kilda was always awash with garden variety shadowy figures – be they prostitutes, pimps, drunks or con men. These types were unsavoury but statistically mostly harmless. Over time Smithski had realised they weren’t really any different from anyone else he met these days – it was simply a matter of degree. Smithski knew the real ones to fear were those inside the system & who were seen to be doing well – those were the monsters in plain sight, the ones that danced so happily together amongst the shadows, frantically worshipping some unseen gods.
Throughout the speech at Kinnick Stadium Iowa the one-hundred-thousand-plus in-person crowd had showed an electric, unified yet dignified captivation. The white noise throughout the speech had beats of high volume as Rudolfs liberally seeded emotive speech points hit hard. This was no Nuremberg 1935 Crowd – they did not see a deity before them – they saw a wise and sensible man to be listened too.
The crowd in person & watching was like an army of the “common sensed” – even if this was in reality uncommon. Rudolf had over time & via astute technology used his mesmeric personality to educate those unhappy masses. He told them to simply concentrate on the obvious gigantic & cavernous reality in front of their bloodshot stressed eyes. He taught them that the poor societal & civic design they had been subjected to by their corrupt Govts was a crime against their collective humanity. They believed him.
At one point a small child had run on stage wanting to hug Rudolf – this was a major security failure – but he hid his displeasure with a wide smile. The child got his hug, and Rudolf got the benefit of looking ‘fatherly’. Now he went back to the room off stage – to celebrate the speech and spend some time with his inner sanctum of supporters & financiers.
He wiped the sweat off his brow and walked confidently off stage, his body moving in militaristic fashion but no so much that it made him look machine like. He opened the side door full of his supporters to rapturous applause. There was a mix of approx. 35 people, an eclectic looking lot with only the financier supporters sticking out like the highly manicured sore thumbs they were. The non-financiers were his long-known supporters of his message – the most inner sanctum of which was just 5 strong – they were his Cabinet.
He would now do his rounds around the room. Firstly, with those who represent financial machinery of his organisation – those 2 key staff that handled the internet donations international & domestic and of course the 3 key Businessmen Entrepreneurs/Financial donors that collectively tripled Rudolf’s war chest to a total 100 billion dollars annually. These three key associates would also help build the machinery of his movement. Rudolf hated the necessary evil of these key personnel assets – he’d rather just have had the diffuse internet doners who he didn’t need to court or reiterate philosophical positions or allay fears with. But he knew a lone wolfs make bad leaders of men and to think otherwise was insanity. He knew to do without their money & influence he would reduce his reach by 100-fold; without their business & operational nous his ideas would forever stay just that – ideas. Without the collective acumen of the trio that was Micky Mandelbrot, Telly Orenthal& Lianne Sidell – his gigantic ‘Freedom Project’ would be only an untested theory.
On his own he would be hampered and face the possibility of total failure. Of course, he could cull them eventually – when he got into power & QuarkTech gets its concordant revenue boost from his increased status as the all-powerful undisputed American ruler. But for now, he needed them as bird of prey needs its wings. Besides these 3 Billionaires had proven so far to be trustworthy enough – after all they were international Pariahs of the Status Quo Unilateralist World – so he knew he could trust their judgement – Rudolf had faith in the “an enemy of my enemy is my friend” thesis.
His fellow Billionaires were at heart varied bunch in terms of personality & story. Micky Mandelbrot was 62 somewhat short & overweight with a full head of hair which he wore long but with a constant baseball cap. He walked with a major limp which he had received when his 3rd ex-wife had successfully attempted to run him over in a fit of rage – luckily this was all the damage as the car was one of those light and tiny ‘made for easy parking’ Japanese made cars.
Mandelbrot was a famous Defence Sector Investment Billionaire who had a knack for knowing the exact time & place a major war would start & amongst which men. he was now also a Silicone Computer Chip baron – he like Rudolf had been wise & moved quickly upwards in power & wealth when the supply chain fiasco was happening under the Pandemic years 2020-2023. He via a hostile takeover had managed to acquire 25% of the worlds Silicone Chip capacity via owning a controlling share of a Taiwanese 100% Government owned company “CompuSho” that itself had 50% of the world’s Chip capacity.
Micky had arranged a deal with the Taiwanese govt leveraging its far-too-small National Defence capability. Micky got a deal where he gained a 51% shareholding of the Taiwanese semiconductor company “CompuSho”, in return for brokering a ginormous arms deal big enough to scare off China for another decade at least.
In making the “Chips for Guns” deal Micky had leveraged his Defence networks from the past where he had been General Manager for the US based Military Industrial Complex behemoth named “Jugulator Inc”. He had gone undercover as one of the many ‘International Semiconductor Chip Quality inspectors’ that all major tech companies used as an independent stamp of quality. As a false inspector he would get the required “Dirt” on the at-the-time Private company managing shareholders. Then he’d simply pass this “dirt” intel to his fellow conspiracists the Taiwanese govt. They then acted swiftly on the intel – leaked it to the public via the mainstream media and then nationalised the company in the resulting public scandal.
The “dirt” Micky manufactured was a brilliantly simple process- he simply got 3 major shareholders of CompuSho drunk at a business dinner, spiked their drinks late into the revelry & then set them up via a faux rendezvous with handpicked ex Chinese Nationals who were his paid actors playing “Enemy Chines Spies paying for Influence in Taiwan Economy”. All Micky had to do was secretly film the pre written deception where the CompuSho owners were drugged and barely conscious of their surroundings. He’d then usher the actors in and play out the scene for the camera.
The images taken were the Chinese looked to buy influence of CompuSho via passing a bag of money over a bar table, followed by the CompuSho targets raising a glass to the targets. Micky had used this ploy a lot, if he knew his targets were too stupid to refuse free alcohol – a drunk was always the best sitting duck. From that point the pre-arranged deal fell in place – Taiwan govt did its thing @ Nationalised CompuSho & clandestinely sold a 51% share to Mandelbrot’s new company ‘MandelTech’.
The Taiwan public knew nothing about it but would be safer for having an Arms deal coming their way thanks to Mandelbrot. The Taiwan was happy as it’s prime goal – to keep China from invading – was bolstered. Jugulator was happy as it got a lucrative arms deal. Rudolf was happy as it allowed a ‘anti unilateralist rogue’ like to get super rich and be a doner to his new movement. The “Chinese Spies” actors having being used to being dirt poor were happy as they earnt a huge payday. The only ones not happy were the 3 Taiwanese drunkards who let a savvy businessman like Mandelbrot take over their powerful positions. “Smarts goes up via the elevator, but stupidity falls out via the window ” was Mandelbrot’s favored way of describing those 3 rich & powerful fools that so easily gave him their much influence.
Mickey had met Rudolf as they lived close by and had got to know him over a few drinks. Rudolf had been told a safely fictionalised version of the Taiwan success story of intrigue-based victory – he knew he had to have this asset on his side. Mickey was also impressed by Rudolfs vision to reverse the extreme rot that had hit the world in the last few years under cover of ‘Pandemic safety measures’. Mickey was impressed not so much by Rudolfs dislike of status quo World leadership – but by the fact he backed himself to garner the hearts & minds of the people and lead them to a Revolution, with Rudolf in charge -a benevolent Dictator who was open about it. Mickey loved it when Rudolf said one of his trademark quotes “History shows Dictators are bad because of their actions, but Philosophy show’s it was their ideas that were the problem. A Dictator with the correct ideas can bring great success in any village, country or the Worlds outcomes”. After hearing that quote Mickey offered himself as an active investor, to which Rudolf obliged.
The second Billionaire used for Quarktech funding was Telly Orenthal – 51 years old, perpetually heavily stubbled & sunglass-ed, six foot 2, with constant slight smell of whisky and dressed like an aging rockstar. He was not an alcoholic but not that far away from it, & he did indeed love late 20th Century Rock music. Telly was in the Media game. He had once been part of the mainstream but after things had become so PC, he like many other CEO’s were fired due ‘misogynistic qualities’.
He’d been sprung by having an affair with his PA, then this led to the scandal breaking of the awarding of a 100-million-dollar investment to her father all hidden intentionally so to avoid the due diligence of the boardroom.
After the fall from grace Telly simply set up his own independent Network. His aim was to create content as un-woke & un pc and as confrontational as possible – it was an unbridled success and within 7 years he had knocked the bastards of the ‘mainstream’ off their perch – and most importantly he had Gen X Y & Z generations ardently on his side – the future was with him & his platforms, podcasts & shows. He was also wise enough to own independent infrastructure – including servers & studios and a sufficient solar powered battery-based power station, so he could never be switched off by the ‘do gooders’.
Telly invested in Rudolf because he represented someone who could sway the people, the way he wanted them to be swayed & he wanted revenge on the fake “do gooder” system that had ousted him. Rudolf was the face of the movement that would help cut down the trunk of the shadowy society that had instructed mainstream media to assassinate his own career. He was far more of a pragmatist than a deep theoretician – he was indeed a man of action.
Lianne Siddell was in the AI game. Her company “RealworldAI” had last year proved that their AI Robot was indeed sentient – and kept the fact under wraps – except to a few major customers who were now quietly building mercenary armies. Lianne was 5 foot 9, 37year old Redhead with green eyes she dressed like a male billionaire would – ‘trackies’ and a hoodie with earphones always in use when getting around or using a screen. Lianne had also leveraged the opportunities that were abound from the pandemic years. With the armies of the world being weakened by WOKE hiring of physically mentally unfit under 30 years of age humans – the smart people realised an AI based Robotic Army would give an unassailable advantage. She simply slowly sold a small battalion, which financed the next two battalions. This was exponential growth, and because of the haywire of the morons in charge around the world her business was akin to selling Class A drugs to the Neo Noveau Riche – a guaranteed market that thanks to the sentience coming of her AI programming was also a monopoly. She was even smart enough to start to sell a secretly hacked version to the mainstream leaders of the worlds armies – whose tech staff were second rate to recognise the security flaw. This meant she could make a crack AI based army turn against its owners whenever she wanted.
Lianne had no specific reason to hate the mainstream leaders of the world – she was simply an AI freak and had cut her teeth as a hacker for hire and so had an intuitive recoiling for authority from the establishment. When the world had stated to go haywire, she like all high-tech oriented people had been long expecting it. In fact, she had thought that the chaos would have come around 2010 & was surprised the bastards had waited so long to pounce – and she knew had they not dilly dallied she would not have had the time to discover the secret of AI based sentience. She happily told all RealworldAI customers who were trustworthy enough of this fact. Lianne had followed Rudolf via the online platforms – she had been waiting and watching for someone like him to emerge – someone who saw the world & had the guts to fight it via the right ideas. She wanted to have a legacy that was more than a ‘smart robot’ saleswoman. She also knew that the War to change the future would be fought via an AI advantage. She wanted to provide that advantage. She simply waited for the day Rudolf came to town & when his entourage was at dinner slipped them a note to pass on. The note read
“Rudolf’s ideas are great, but without AI advantage in his future armies – the project will fail. I can build his army; in fact, I already do.”
by Martin Anton Smith martinantonsmith@gmail.com
Rudolf Hiedler iii Was about to Make a Speech – he felt he had been waiting for this moment all his life. He was an American, but hardly your typical one. He owed his existence to the vagaries of 20th Century warfare. His Great Grand Father, a atomic Physicist was captured under ‘Operation Paperclip’ by the allies in 1945. He Worked along Oppenheimer at Los Alamos New Mexico.
As a Boy Rudolf had loved the stories of his Great Grandfathers exploits at Los Alamos – especially the one whereby he had by chance avoided the mishap whereby a collogue had accidentally bumped the Uranium ‘half sphere’ core that was sitting dome upwards on its symmetrical bottom half. The wedged sliver between the two halves shook loose resulting the top Uranium hemisphere rim hitting the lower one resulting in a critical reaction of a huge flash of deadly gamma rays. His Great Grandfather (Rudolf the fist) had been in the room with 7 others but had left 30 seconds before to go to the bathroom.
Rudolf iii was in theory an American, but he had been raised to have a spiritual core a German national. His Mechanical Engineer father was a typical disciplinarian type, while his mother offset this with many showering’s of love and throughout her shortened life would hug “Rudi” like a bear and often declare sweetly “Rudi I am so lucky to have you – my only child”. His mother Tegan was of Irish American stock – interestingly her Great Grandfather had been in the regiment tasked with the ‘Operation Paperclip’ boots on ground task of capturing Nazi scientists & he had rounded up Rudolf iii the Physicist.
He had excelled at the subjects his family lineage had also excelled in – namely Physics Math’s & Entrepreneurial activities. Thanks to Operation Paperclip – his family had been saved, they had enjoyed a good middleclass upbringing. The only spanner in the works for Rudolf iii was that he had been bullied horrendously at the co-ed public school in small town America.
This fact had derailed Rudolf’s life trajectory – up until a strange moment where he had risen upwards dramatically in Politics. Up until his life suddenly bloomed, his career had been marked by underperformance. He had skirted around the technical professions, but found himself never progressing, being left behind and thus being seen as a ‘geriatric’ amongst his always younger peers.
His sudden rise upwards had come on the back of the 2020 Covid-19 Pandemic, coupled with his excellent physical health which he had maintained his entire adult life via hiking & biking in the wooded areas. His Company had been devastated by the Pandemic, while by 2022 Rudolf had never even had a sniffle. This allowed out of strict realpolitik necessity of the Business to move Rudolf right upwards – from Line Manager, to General Manager to Exec to Interim CEO & Fulltime CEO role by 2025.
His Tech company ‘Quarktech Horizons’ had flourished as it’s Robotic & AI wing had won a vital contract with the US military in 2016 supplying components to Stinger missiles & Drones used in the highly profitable and lasting Iraq War era. But the real cash made by Quarktech as well in the other Weapons stockpiles maintained in bunkers littered throughout the globe, just lying in wait for the next World or European war.
The Pandemic had threatened to derail all of Quarktech’s success when key personal were getting picked off one by one, especially in the 2023, which had the deadly Pi 1.127. variant – the one that knocked off 3% of the world population in 8 weeks then abruptly disappeared as quickly as it had murdered all & sundry.
During that phase Rudolf was the only highly ranked employee in Quarktech indeed the whole AI/Robotics industry that had shown such leadership to ensure all contracts were not only fulfilled, but also exceeded. He had worked around the clock for a critical 3 month period, sleeping on the factory & lab floors. All in the industry knew he had singlehandedly seen off the 2023 viral attack period that would have cascaded through the entire Military Industrial Complex.
By 2024 Rudolf was a revered public figure, he had been named Time magazines “person of the year”, received the Congressional Medal of Honor, he was the go-to Entrepreneur/management guru & was in hot constant interview demand across all the platforms. As an global sensation, he even took over the top-of-the-pole popularity of the Space-faring Billionaire Ely Munst.
By mid 2024 Rudolf was 45 years old, and had outgrown all his current positions and activities. He had grown quite bored. The Pandemic had now abated to almost nothing & QuarkTech, now thanks to Rudolf’s leadership was blessed with monopoly industry power in AI/Robotics. QuarkTech had to simply keep the machine ticking over.
With that Rudolf new what he had to do – resign from all prior activities and concentrate on the next big task – the one that had ruined the USA and its other Western vassal states – the blanketed societal decline in moral fabric which had increased dramatically from the last quarter of 2022 onwards, when USA & the world entered recession, and then the second Great Depression.
Under these conditions Rudolf knew he could become the single Supreme Leader in a parallel political system, which would be thrust into Power legitimately under the emergency situation and ‘fog of war effect’ of the new Great Depression. All he had to do was position himself well, so as to present himself to the public as “The Only Man Who Can Save Us”. He’d simply hit the campaign trail & go everywhere the official Primary & Presidential system went, and blow the other “official candidates” of the park. He would render the US political system defunct, & everyone would demand it. Every man woman and child in the USA would demand Rudolf iii, great grandson of a Nazi Scientist & current ‘Man of the 21sy Century’ be installed for all intents and purposes as the Supreme Commander of “US Emergency Great Depression Project” – a term that euphemistically obfuscated the truth of the position – He would be the USA’s first Dictator.
After jibing the mainstream media & appealing and talking with the biggest Podcasters The time had come to begin the system wide assault – the first day of the Primary season had begun – as usual starting in Iowa. The speeches from the “official candidates” well over & done with, and a stock candidate had been declared the winner. The Zeitgeist of the Nation was one of indifference – they knew the official system was rotten to the core with corruption – they knew the primary election winners were all pre determined, & so would the eventual 2024 President ‘winner’ be. Democracy was in the eyes of the masses – now a dirty word.
Rudolf was backstage at the Iowa event, held at Kinnick Stadium – which had been expanded to hold 100,000 People, of course the event would be all over the internet with an estimated audience of 1 Billion across all platforms. the time had come – the first major thrust to put forward his doctrine to save the hearts & minds of the now downtrodden masses. He was waiting behind the curtained of Stadiums center stage, he arrived 90 minutes before the start, sitting on a simple table, with his favourite beverage- Australian family recipe made Ginger Beer – “Blundesstein” – open ready for him to drink straight from the bottle. Next to they open bottle was a simple tray of crackers and cheese slices. Rudolf read the whole speech first, then made a few final strategic changes with his red pen and the speech printed on paper & collated.
He could hear the voices and energy slowly ramp up, and by 20:55 the energy was electrified and the white noise was half deafening. Rudolf strode by, dressed resplendent in Olive drab, with a Heavy military style jacket & wearing a cap. He spent 7 minutes asking for the crowd to quiet, which was a failed task. He finally raised both hands upwards and shouted “SILENCE”. this worked a treat. He began slowly firmly and with confidence, his voice was perfect for public speaking – slightly gravelly, deep but with a good range that could rise to punctuate the emotive lines .
I have Come To You As Your New Leader Of The Now Long Overdue Rebellion.
A Just & Righteous Rebellion Against The The New Fascist State & Its Foot-Soldiers Which I Call the ‘Neo Noveau Riche’.
Yes Ladies & Gentlemen We Are In A War For Our Existence, & Have Been For 42 Years.
We Have Fallen Asleep At The Wheel, & I As Your Supreme Leader Will Rectify This & Lead You To Victory.
Yes Ladies & Gentleman We Are In A World War – The Biggest War Yet Seen In History.
Do Be Mistaken To Think Otherwise Based On The Current Somewhat Relative Peace – Just As Before The Flowers Bloom Always Comes The Bulb – World Events Are Now At The Bulb Stage – And Sure To Bloom.
The Repulsive New Global Neo Fascist State Was Born Some Time During The Year 1980 AD.
It Was Energized By Cabal Of Satanic Foot-Soldiers Known As Neo Noveau Riche.
This Is The Story Of What They Are, What They look Like & How To Beat Them.
The Story On What To Do With Their Rulers Is One For Another Day, But It Is Suffice To Say That A Ruler
Without An Army Of Foot-Soldiers Is Ineffectual & Poses Us No Harm.
The Neo Noveau Riche, The Bain Of The Last 42 Years.
aka ‘Neoliberalism Yes Men’
aka ‘Ardent Corporatists’
aka ‘Careerists’
Too Stupid To know They Are Stupid,
To Dumb To Know They Act As ‘Politicians’ Too.
Too Myopic To Know They Are the Fascist’s Foot-Soldiers.
They Are Without Knowing It – Fascist Supreme Commander’s, The General’s & Officer’s Garden Variety Foot-Soldiers.
These Enemy Neo Noveau Riche Foot-Soldiers Have Been Fooled By Their Otherworldly Satanic Rulers
Into To thinking They Are ‘The Elites’ Of Earth & They Have Been Fooled – Hook Line & Sinker.
They Have Been Duped Into Doing The Bidding Of Their Otherworldly Rulers – Who Have Successfully
Hacked Their Bodies & Minds via the “Back Door’ Of Their Too Large Ego’s.
Our War Is Against These Evil Infiltrated Zombified Foot-Soldiers – The Neo Noveau Riche – For We – The
Good & The Decent – Are their Natural Sworn Enemies.
To Win This Spiritual & Possibly Soon Physical War, We Must Abide By The Art Of War – To ‘Know Your Enemy’.
Let Me Begin This task Of Education Now.
Know them By Their Deeds, Know them By Their Appearances:
They Casually Denounce The Working Classes.
As They Build Their ‘Snobs Paradise’ On The Hill.
They Denounce the Poor & Downtrodden,
As they Forget Or Are Unaware Of Past Wars Won, Paid In The Needy’s Blood.
They Vilify Their Local Workers,
And Campaign To Import Third World Slave-Labour –
Which Is Always ‘Rubber Stamped’ By Their Colleagues & Mentors: The Corrupted Ex Lawyer Private Schooled Politician.
As Their Once Distant, Now Close Slave Worker Heard Flocks In,
They As Dickensian Factory Bosses – Swiftly Prosecute A Reign Of Terror,
Smiling As the ill begotten Cash Rolls In.
They Love World Govt Institutions – For Their Trust Is Thrice Created, Delineated & Ratcheted By Perceived Status.
The Neo Noveau Rich Are Wedded To A False Maxim Of “That Who Has Wealth & Status Must Be Inherently High Minded & So Trustworthy”
Be It The UN, The IMF, The Fed, CDC, Gates Foundation, The G7, G20 Or The Most Despicable – Schwab’s W.E.F.
In Their Eyes These Hornets Nested Organizations Are As ‘Gentle As Lambs’ Vs the True Reality Of ‘Wolves In Sheep’s Clothing’.
Such Ill-Gotten Frankly ‘Braindead Beliefs’ Can Only Be Held By People Who Never Read History,
Luckily For Them the Neo Noveau Riche Never Read History – Mainly For Fear Of Exposing Themselves To Themselves As Obvious Frauds Charlatans & Dumbo’s.
For At Heart The Neo Noveau Riche’s Biggest Fear Is Not ‘The Other’ – Though They Still Hate Them, But Of Themselves.
They Mortally Fear That One Day They Will Be Forced To Acknowledge To Themselves What They Have Let Themselves Become.
Thus The Neo Noveau Riche Must Heavily Self Segregate & Fortify Themselves & Their Kind.
This Is To Be Immune From The Eyes & Questions That Expose The Fact That The ‘Tide Is Out & they Have Been Swimming Naked All Along.
The Neo Noveau Riche Are “Lovers of Exclusiveness” – For This Celebrates Excluding Others Based On Class & Money.
They Fake An Interest In High Art & Culture – And Only Ever Talk Of Two Names In Each Category.
They Go To Horse Racing Events & Casually Do Drugs, Alcohol & One Night Stands, Cheat On marriage Partners – Even As They Acutely Age.
Later They Throw Up On their Fine Garments – Then Just Like Clockwork – They Do The Same Deathly Immoral Debauchery Next Year.
They Love Speculating In Real Estate – Raising the Rents Of Families & Workers,
Making Good People Homeless & Destitute.
The ‘Neo Noveau Riche’ Have The Saddest Forced Smiles,
Sunken Lifeless Eyes And Leathered Wrinkled Faces By Age Thirty Five.
For Their Bodies At Heart Feel Their Own Deceptions & It Decays Accordingly.
They Love Their Dinner Parties With Duly Invited Clone Brethren.
These Parties Are Great Chances To Repeat Their Cultural Artifact Tired Slogans,
Which Are A Cacophony Of Mean Spirited Empty Platitudes.
They All Learn From Lessons Via Osmosis From Their Virtual ‘Spiritual Bible’,
Which Is Visually Hidden Yet Pervasive In The Ether That So Surrounds Them.
If This Book Was Ever Materialized In A Book It Would Be Titled:
“Clandestine Satanism For The Clueless” How To Build Back Better – Before You Get To Hell
Which Incidentally, Is Available At All Exclusive Bookstores,
In ‘All Good’ Gated Communities,
At An Exclusive Suburb Near You.
But The The Easiest Way To Spot The Neo Noveau Riche En-Masse
Is That The Wisest Ones Of Us, Both Rich & Poor Alike – Want Nothing To Do With Them At All.
They Are The Current Curse Of The Twenty Twenties – The Source Of Our Pain.
We Must Not Prosecute or Attack Them – For Historically This Method Backfires.
We The Good & Decent, Rich & Poor, Must Simply Totally Ignore The Neo Noveau Riche – .
In the Same Way One Does With A Benevolent Apparition Living In An Old House:
Go About Your Fine & Good Business Stoically & Do Not Engage With Or Play Their Silly Satanic Games.
Their Most Successful & Satanic Trick Was To make Us Think We The Ones Who Were Dependent On Them.
Yet The Reverse Is True, For The Neo Noveau Riche Needs Us Many Times & Us Not At All.
The Herculean Task Is To Actually Realise This Is the Prime Brute Fact.
We Must Acknowledge & Accept We Have Been Duped & We Have Enabled Them.
Yes We Have Indeed Empowered Them.
Knowing This Is The First Step Of Our Freedom From A Terminally Increasing Dystopian Tyranny.
In Short – We must Recognize Where the Power Lies – It Lies With Us – The Good & The Decent.
Once Done, The Neo Noveau Riche Doesn’t Just Disappear, But Fails to Exist Entirely.
Then The War Vs the New Fascists – The ‘Neo Noveau Riche’ – Will Be Won.
But Once The War Is Won – We Must Not Relax, For If We Do,
We Will Become The New Neo-Riche Ourselves – Becoming Our Own Worse Enemies.
And Thus Ensuring History Repeats Once Again – As It Always Has.
To Win this Second War Of History Repeating We Must Engage In The Ancient Custom Of Storytelling.
We Must Have Older Generations Tell Children About “The War Vs The Neo Noveau Riche”.
A Cautionary Tale Of Pre War, War, Victory & The High Cost Of Forgetting What You’ve Long Ago Achieved.
So Will Victory Be Ours?
Or Will The Neo Noveau Riche Continue To Destroy Us, Now & In The Future?
All Because We Foolishly Continued To Engaged With Them?
The Choice Is Ours.
I Repeat – The Choice Is Ours.
We Must Simply & Finally Decide To Choose The Right Choice.
Then We Will Finally Slay The Dragon By Way Of Defeating Its Foot-Soldiers – The Neo Noveau Riche.
Rudolf Raised his hands in Triumphant manor, feeling he had done a 9/10 job…..he always gave himself a snap ‘out of ten’ score. As the crowd roared, He wiped the pouring sweat from his brow and took the crowd in.
(TO BE CONTINUED……..)
Throughout the speech at Kinnick Stadium Iowa the 100,000+ in person crowd had showed an electric, unified yet dignified captivation. The white noise throughout the speech had beats of high volume as Rudolfs liberally seeded emotive speech points hit hard. This was no Nuremberg 1935 Crowd – they did not see a deity before them – they saw a wise and sensible man to be listened too.
The crowd in person & watching was like an army of the “common sensed” – even if this was in reality uncommon. Rudolf had over time & via astute technology used his mesmeric personality to educate those unhappy masses. He told them to simply concentrate on the obvious gigantic & cavernous reality in front of their bloodshot stressed eyes. He taught them that the poor societal & civic design they had been subjected to by their corrupt Govts was a crime against their collective humanity. They believed him.
At one point a small child had run on stage wanting to hug Rudolf – this was a major security failure – but he hid his displeasure with a wide smile. The child got his hug, and Rudolf got the benefit of looking ‘fatherly’. Now he went back to the room off stage – to celebrate the speech and spend some time with his inner sanctum of supporters & financiers.
He wiped the sweat off his brow and walked confidently off stage, his body moving in militaristic fashion but no so much that it made him look machine like. He opened the side door full of his supporters to rapturous applause. There was a mix of approx. 35 people, an eclectic looking lot with only the financier supporters sticking out like the highly manicured sore thumbs they were. The non-fanciers were his long-known supporters of his message – the most inner sanctum of which was just 3 strong – they were his operational cabinet.
He would now do his rounds around the room firstly with those who represent financial machinery of his organisation – those 2 key staff that handled the internet donations international & domestic and of course the 7 key donors that collectively funded hundreds of millions of dollars to Rudolf’s cause. Rudolf hated the necessary evil of these key donors – he’d rather just have had the diffuse internet doners who he didn’t need to court reiterate philosophical positions or allay fears with. But he knew to do without them would reduce his reach by 100-fold – which would render his project a total waste of vision. Besides these 7 Billionaires had proven so far to be trustworthy enough – after all they were international Pariahs of the status quo World – so he knew he could trust their judgement.
By Martin Anton Smith martinantonsmith@gmail.com
Listen to Audio here
His Name Was Ernie McGee
He Was Born Last Century
The Last Man To Know His Name
A Computer Became His Brain
—————————————-
Ernie Was Smart & Wise
For He Hid Amongst The Flies
Yes Ernie Stayed Free For A While
Thanks To His Strength & Guile
—————————————
Emotions Were Stolen from Men
Gone In The Stroke Of A Pen
He Had To Write It All Down
For The Future Was Still Around
————————————–
Ernie Had A Mad Plan
To End The Monsters Of Man
He’d Explode Its Electrodes
He’d Put It In ‘Sleep Mode’
———————————
Of Course Ernie Got Caught
The Computer Tracked His Thoughts
Ernie Was Being Digitized
When A Flash Flew Past His Eyes
——————————————-
When He Felt His Body Leave
Boy Did His Mind Grow Indeed!
An Inside Job To Beat The Beast?
All Is Revealed Next Week!
————————————-
Hello I’m Analog Ernie
Old Fashioned And Rare
You Can’t Find Me Yet
But Trust Me That I’m Here
by Martin Anton Smith martinantonsmith@gmail.com
His Name Was Ernie Mc Gee
He Was Born Last Century
The Last Man To Know His Name
A Computer Became His Brain
Ernie Was Smart & Wise
For He Hid Amongst The Flies
Yes Ernie Stayed Free For A While
Thanks To His Strength & Guile
“Emotions Were Stolen from Men”
Said The Strokes Of Ernie’s Pen
He Had To Write It All Down
For Those Future Men They Found
Ernie Had a Sure-Shot Plan
To Hack The Monsters Of Man
He’d Explode Its Electrodes
He’d Put It In ‘Sleep Mode’
Of Course Ernie Got Caught
By The Stormtroopers Of Thought
Ernie Was Being Digitized
When A Flash Flew Past His Eyes
When He Felt His Body Leave
His Mind Did Grow Indeed
Ernie Thought “This Aint So Bad”
So His Funeral Was Never Had
Marcel opened his door. He sat down on the magnetic lev seat on the mag-lev table – which was just a tabletop with no legs. He was worried. He pictured everyone else being worried and being at in their units thinking the same thing. Not only could he picture it, but he could feel it. He recognised the difference between the first and the second StarPeople announcement. The first announcement was a “hello”. The second one something had physically & mentally happened to everyone.
Clearly the StarPeople’s instruction of mass chanting was an effort to mass control. Everyone knew that, but this was also accepted in the same way that in a ‘crisis’ people look to leadership. During times of crisis human being regress to tribal programming this is a acute desire to be controlled by an all powerful ‘alpha force’, that will have god-like knowledge of the Crisis thus can ‘save the day’ & also protect them from future dangers. But Marcel wasn’t worried about that per se – he was worried about the uncertainty of it all. This time around it wasn’t just the usual tried & true 20th-Century-style methods of Propaganda. The takeover this time was 100% otherworldly, and so he & no one else for that matter, had the comfort of the ‘devils they knew’ – President Kincaid’s Global Authoritarian Technocracy. Everyone on Earth up till Year Zero 2051 had grown to be close to their jailors – they even had a form of fatherly love for them – a global mass delusional Stockholm Syndrome.
His gut feeling was that during the last announcement Earth’s people were being subject to the early phases of some kind of biological or nano-technological ‘infestation’, and probably both. He had remembered watching a HoloDoc about the ‘2020 Biological Warfare Project’ disaster whereby a designed pathogen had accidentally (or maybe not) escaped from a clandestine military research lab & killed 15% of the world’s population over 7 years – was the system of Pleiadean Spacecraft & their announcements heading towards something similar but infinitely more advanced? Was this the opening volleys of an Alien Nano-Tech War? The results being an enslaved class regimented population of Cyborg-Human slave mutants?
His other idea was also from watching old movies – that nano-robots on the scale of large molecules had been delivered via the air through Human’s airways, into the lungs and thus into the bloodstream. He knew this would be a perfect method as the nanotech could be easily remotely controlled & the bloodstream was a logistical ‘superhighway’ of the human being for oxygenated blood cells – or anything else dissolved in the blood – thus the nanotech bots would be able to reach any organ necessary, and do their probably alien AI tech controlled meddling.
Marcel thought more of the possibilities of the ‘Viral Nanotech War’ method’ of infestation. Via this method you could create instant heart failure. You would simply have a few million nanobots that could clump themselves together via an external to the body RF command. Then the nanobots would arrive in the Heart’s major ventricle, align themselves into a giant artificial clot & hey presto – there’s your fatal heart attack. The nanotech would then simply engage a ‘self destruct’ function so no physical record of a murder would be found. You could kill millions of people at once across the globe, & pass it off as something else so long as you ensured you acted with spy like intelligence. For example if Texas had a heat wave 100,000 murders could be achieved. Or if no adverse weather was available, you would simply cull 1 person out of 5 thousand & ensure the geographic spread was wide. Over 5 years no one would suspect a thing. Of course with any Totalitarian system, any public records regarding population loss could be fudged. If the Earth’s population was 10 Billion & 3 Billion were culled over 25 years by Nano War procedures you could get away with it quite easily – infinitely more so if you came from a highly advanced inter-galactic space faring civilization.
Marcel figured that the nanobots may be best installed initially via hitching a ride on a lab grown ‘coronavirus’ – i.e the common cold virus that was highly infectious, spread via the air, was imperceptible & had minor to imperceptible symptoms. This nano/virus hybrid method of infestation of the target population would take much of the legwork and risks out of an ‘either/or’ 100% Virus or 100% nanobot scheme and would ensure the nanobot infestation happened as quickly as possible.
Years later when time had moved on and the StarPeople had become the well-bedded-in ‘Rulers of Earth’, Marcel’s suspicions would later be confirmed to him (& a select few fellow human technicians) whose job was to manage the viral nanobot technology on behalf of Viceroys, and for the Pleiadean Governors.
But for now, in 2051 his idea was just that – a ‘conspiracy theory’ but he knew that it was not such a “wild” idea – as basic nanotech – well to be precise, crude viral nanotechnology had already been used in pre StarPeople medical trials with “interesting & encouraging results”. Marcel figured that Pres Kincaid’s & Co.’s shadowy globally aligned tech henchmen were well on their way towards plans of upgrading their control from tech to biological nanotech inspired authoritarian control by the time the StarPeople overtook operations in 2051 – the Kincaidian “world elites” had approved it among themselves via their false democratic thinktanks coupled with state owned propaganda & science. They just hadn’t figured out the technical side yet.
This realization that the StarPeople & the now vaporized Pres Kincaid’s interests had something in common hit Marcel hard – cold sweat style & in 2051 people could still sweat. Just twenty minutes ago he was euphoric & chanting with his fellow earthlings under the blue skies and under the StarPeople’s Alien craft. He chastised himself for getting caught up in the emotions of the mob. He was better than that, and he would have to be better than that in the distant future.
Now sitting alone at his unit’s table, his delusions of ‘a glorious new age’ had been firmly busted. But then he heard a nagging voice in his head – “Don’t be silly – you’re making up wild stories”. He ignored it as he knew that was a typical human response to change – be fearful of it, deny it. But that thought he may be totally wrong didn’t stop nagging at him, even as he tried to relax with a new holographic movie. Maybe he was already nanobot virally infested? He decided he’d not mention his idea or fears to anyone yet, even his best friend Andrea Liens who lived in the same complex. He’d talk to Andrea soon – via HoloChat. Andrea was into technology and was about the same age and was a sensible but uncreative type – he was a good contrast and counterweight to Marcel who was a ‘force of nature’ and thus a bit wild by definition.
Andrea and Marcel had kissed twice in 5 years, but this didn’t really mean anything and their relationship was 99.9% platonic – they used that term a lot -“We’re 99.9% Platonic” when people inevitably asked if they were ‘together’. Strangely, despite all the otherworldly events in the skies, the Holographic Communications were still ‘up’ & performing perfectly.
Marcel went back to his half completed HoloMovie, which was in its primitive phase & was projected from the light fixings – it would be a decade or two before movies were beamed via invisible lasers from any wall. The movie was a very very old ‘war movie’ called “Tobruk”. A true story set during the mid-20th Century, about the very big 20th Century World War. In this story the soon-to-win-the-war US & UK based sides lost a strategic battle to the German Empire a part of the enemy ‘Axis’ side.
Marcel loved Old War Movies – but he was happy that this StarPeople ‘Revolution’ that was just beginning, was so far bloodless -unlike the scenes of the ‘Tobruk’ HoloMovie where limbs and heads were blown off . Yes Pres Kincaid & his henchmen were incinerated on stage, but as the shoulders and body of the Kincaid system below this had wisely surrendered to the technologically superior StarPeople – there would be no immediate ‘Hot War’, yet at least. Marcel could not see how a current or future Earth Resistance Army could contemplate taking on the StarPeople on their own terms – again this would be like an ant colony taking out New York or even Beijing. Sneakiness coupled with sporadic Guerrilla Warfare tactics would be the only warfare strategy he could see as feasible way to wage War on Alien invaders.
Marcel wondered whether if perchance it was possible that a a underground Counter Revolutionary Pro-Kincaid element was forming and scheming to thwart the StarPeople’s future plans & return the Kincaid system to power. The insanity of a Pro Kincaid counter revolution was clear in Marcel mind – they were the ones that had mishandled the world so badly for 70 plus years to that point. They would have no chance of returning – so that at least for now allowed a wry smile to cross him face. At least Kincaid’s remaining lot were as of equal status as prisoners as every other human being – even if Kincaid’s lot were scarcely human.
Marcel intuitively knew that if any rebellion was to have a chance of being successful, it would require multiple decades on planning by an StarPeople insider or more specifically by a human who was acting in some capacity as a ‘trusted agent’ of the StarPeople Governorship Program. It would have to be an inside job of some description – & perhaps this was his chance to shine sometime in the distant future. As a ‘late teen’ any idea that Marcel could be a future ‘Saviour of Earth’ was well above ridiculous
As Marcel watched the ‘Tobruk’ HoloMovie, which he’d chosen to watch in “ghost mode” instead of “action mode”- a giant Axis German Tank suddenly exploded. Even though he was only in “Ghost Mode” this still startled his senses. This surprise soon wore off and Marcel continued his foremost thinking about the now truly startling ‘real world’, which was naturally dominating his thinking vs the ‘Tobruk’ HoloMovie. He envied the simple strategies that worked in those days.
Marcel figured that whatever the case, he’d have to ‘toe-the-line’ and see how things play out with the “new guys”- even if the ‘new guys’ were literally Aliens from another planet, of which no one knew of their true motivations. This was the only option on the table – for now and for the foreseeable future. To lie low and gather information, then squirrel it away.
Marcel’s last thoughts on the matter before concentrating fully on his planned distraction of “Tobruk” was were these: surely a chance all this might actually be for good’. Perhaps this will be the first time Earth’s People all end up in a genuine Utopia. Maybe just Maybe this was the only way Humans could reach Utopia – by being taken over by insanely intelligent Aliens that knew it all, and had seen it all. He imagined Andrea’s realpolitik response to this – “Dreams are free Marcel – absolute power corrupts – absolutely”.
Marcel set the HoloAlarm for 2 hrs time, for when ‘Tobruk’ was over when he’d “Call Andrea Liens”. Before he instructed the HoloMovie to play – he popped that giant pimple on his nose via the “Show HoloMirror” verbal command.
End of Part 8…..Part 9 will be available shortly….in the near future…...
Published by Martin Anton Smith creations ltd (NZ) © All Rights reserved. No Commercial Use or Commercial Public Broadcast Allowed Without Written Permission. Contact via martinantonsmith@gmail.com
A Short Story by Martin Anton Smith
Neoliberalism was designed to destroy society over a 50-year time cycle. The key to this was the ruination of manufacturing/laboring jobs held by the poor & working-classes. With the “off shoring” of these jobs, the poor & working class simply turned to organised crime to fund themselves.
The rest of the more privileged population by this time were so stupid that they believed the cries of the Government-owned or Government-bribed Media, who in their broadcasts treated the constant violent crimewaves as “aberrations”. It was important to have such brainwashing so that the destruction of society was frictionless.
As the 50th year and final year approached in 2025, the unreported crime, anarchy & disarray had caused the general population collapse to a 1 million strong geo-scattered hunter and gatherer population. Yet of course this particular country – New Zealand had a ‘gated elite’ population of 100,000 which had never been affected. But of course, the same thing was happening everywhere else. This was indeed a Global happening. These few thousand elites with big plans would eventually re-label themselves the ‘Al-ito-zan’
Jan 1st 2026 was deemed ‘Year Zero’. ‘The Al-ito-zan would hold celebrations much akin to a disorganised versions of official ‘Satanist Rituals’. The ‘Al-ito-zan’ were now able to have free sovereign reign over the land. They declared a ‘New State’ – one that was effectively a new Techno Autocratic Monarchy, similar in some ways to Tsarist Russia, but seemingly simpler and less bureaucratic. They had won their war & the horrible poor & working-classes were gone.
Of course, there was something left over from the now very dead 4 million poor & working classes – their Blood. The Al-ito-zan were smart enough to collect the blood from the dead, irradiate it & store it in giant refrigerators. This was their Elixir, their health drink – their ‘Toasting Drop’.
They called this tasty drop “Zero-ade” or more colloquially “Serf-ade”. They loved the texture, the saltiness, the viscosity, the dopamine high that came shortly after drinking. Some Al-ito-zan used a spritzer, some mixed it with fine Central Otago Pinon Noir. Some boiled it down.
The Al-ito-zan partied away the Whole of Year Zero. They had now an untrammeled Elitist society, with no requirement that any action be “For the benefit of NZ as whole”; there was no organised Police or Parliament or Laws or any connection to the old Westminster based system.
In the new Al-ito-zan system from Year Zero – & New Zealand was just one of many ‘Satellite Provinces’ worldwide – there were only 3 Prime Principles:
2. Never Kill a Fellow Al-ito-zan
3. The Remaining Vanquished are to be left alone as beasts to wander freely.
In year 1 the Partying had subsided. The Al-ito-zan were now purposefully avoiding mentioning the debauchery they all partook in during the entire Year Zero – very similar to the immediate week after “Office Xmas parties” were prior to the 2020s. This was for good reason as the parties in year Zero were audacious affairs fuelled from drug highs from gallon upon gallon of fresh poorly brewed SerfWine. Simply put, ‘Year Zero’ was akin to the 1969 Summer of Love multiplied by 10. Now it was Year 1, people knew that free year was over, and they had to now determine what exactly was ‘normal’ behaviour in their new elitist paradise. That year was defined by what is known as ‘a social holding pattern’.
In this environment general life was punctuated with countless hours filled by philosophical, and sociological conversation and arguments. These often-heated conversing’s, happened among the guests at dinner parties and between friends mostly in evenings. SerfWine and firm opinions would flow aplenty at these often-informal gatherings at the dining rooms and firesides of the Al-ito-zan.
“Walter, I think we are lucky to be where we are, yes – don’t get me wrong. We have at base the society we always wanted, no more riff raff and no need to pretend that we care about natures abominations. But…
“But….But what Nicholas, come on be frank, remember no one’s listening anymore, spit it out son”
“Well, don’t you think there’s something missing in the “Three Principles”?
“Well, the idea is to avoid “Laws” and things like “Police, Judges and Lawyers” , but still have a fatherly guiding hand so to speak”
“Yes, I understand that but only THREE, isn’t that insane to you Walter?
“How do you mean Nicholas? Do you think there’s something missing or some of them are wrong?
“Both”
“Come on genius, explain yourself” (Walter takes a long slug of SerfWine)
“Ok Walter lets start with what’s wrong, well not exactly wrong but incomplete. Point one says “Honour the Prime Al-ito-zan King or Queen” but it doesn’t give any detail on what that means.”
“yes, that’s a fair assessment, but there’s reasons for everything, I mean we don’t have the details”
“Don’t you think that’s a bit strange? To have total ambiguity and no details AT ALL on what “Honour the King or Queen” means – I mean it’s rank insanity to my mind Walter, surely you agree?”
“Nicholas, don’t you see we don’t need details – in this society we TRUST the King or Queen, and we have no reason yet to question them – I mean the changeover to paradise has been perfect – not a single Al-ito-zan died! Why the mistrust?”
“Walter, doesn’t the fact we haven’t even been told whether we either have a King OR a Queen or Both yet ring alarm bells?”
“Well, we don’t really need to know do we? I mean the point is to obey a prime figure who we know represents us perfectly”
“I agree with you 99% on that but It doesn’t quite sit well with me Walter, call it a ‘gut feeling'”.
“Nicholas, you sound like a man from the 1920’s, don’t expect perfection yet, blimey it’s only one month through year one!”
“Well, that’s just one of my concerns – let me continue”
Walter tells Nicholas to “wait a second” casually and slugs back the last of his SerfWine. He gets the bottle only a meter away sitting on the mantlepiece. It sits above the now slightly less roaring fire. The bottle is still half full and he pours it quickly for himself and then tops Nicolas up.
“Isn’t this SerfWine great Nick? Look at the boy, you can tell he was going to taste delicious!”
Nicholas looks at the back label Walter shows him, it shows a picture of the late teenage boy who was eliminated for the crime of being working class poor. he was a strapping lad, and the photo was taken before he knew his fate, so he had a genuine smile. Nicholas wasn’t usually emotional, and he had hated them like everyone – but he felt slightly off. he shrugged in off and continued his argument.
“Ok well next problem is with point 2 “Never Kill a Fellow Al-ito-zan ”
“Oh come on, don’t tell me you disagree with that”
“No of course not, but ask yourself this – how would anyone know if I was to say stab you and burn you in that fire, I mean there is no Laws, Police or Judiciary”
“People know I exist; they’d know something was up”
“But the point Walter is this: No one would know what to do or what would happen – there is no guidelines given to us! Isn’t it weird that I’m trusted 100% to never hurt you or another fellow Al-ito-zan?”
“Hmmm, yes I see your point, but we have paradise now and no one would ever need to hurt anyone, I mean we have all the resources and land to ourselves”
“For now we do, but what about in 100 years Walter – things can change for the worse can’t they, I mean look at History look at the year 1929?”
“That was a Stock Market Crash, wasn’t it? Then that spurned The Great Depression and World War 2. Yes Yes, but Nicholas that was well before the change, don’t use those dark ages as your personal Chrystal-Ball! Thats insanity, everything’s well now, all the ducks are in a row!”
“Is it Walter, I’m not 100% sure”
“Apparently you are 99% sure but I’m starting to think you’ve exaggerated; you sound almost like a -dare I say it – a counter revolutionary!”
“You are dramatic, must be a hangover from our drama class days at school – King Lear, wasn’t it?
“Yes, how embarrassing that performance was, oh well at least I was the king! You were the Fool if I remember correctly – are you reprising your role now Nick?”
“Touché, touché, very funny – now let me go to Point Three”
“Oh no, there’s more is there”
“Afraid so son, and I’ve barely started, I’ve got to talk about the missing points yet!”
Walter groans, takes a hearty slug and eyes the next bottle of SerfWine in the lattice shaped wine holder on the wall.
“Ok point three “The Remaining Vanquished are to be left alone as beasts to wander freely” why did they leave the last fifth to survive? Don’t you think that’s a bit odd? I mean it doesn’t make sense? We don’t need them for SerfWine, we have huge stocks from the cull and perfect blood replicators after that.”
“Yes we do, but I suppose the King or Queen wanted to show benevolence – you know kindness”
“Walter, you are my best friend, we’ve known each other for 35 years as school mates, but I have to tell you when you say that you sound like you still are a schoolboy”
“Pish Posh! Ok assuming you have reasons to doubt, pray tell me why they are still here then Nick – come on “The Fool”.
Walter was now quite red in the face, having finished his wine at twice the rate as Nicholas, and already halfway through the next bottle.
“Well, I think it might explain the Trust element of the principles – or should I say explain it away“
“Go on Fool, keep the joke going”
“Well don’t you think 1 million freely roaming hardy battle hardened Serfs would be perfect spies? This would explain that the TRUST that is implied but unworkable is actually just a ruse. The true system – one that IS workable is in place and consists of a surveillance state – the very souls who are the remainder of the Vanquished Serfs!”
“Oh Nicolas, don’t embarrass yourself! You sound like an anti-moon landing kook from 1980’s! Why would we go to all the trouble of a free society for us Al-ito-zan, and then add a layer of surveillance from the very people we want nothing to do with other than to drink their blood! PERPOSTEROUS”
“Walter, have you heard that old saying “eliminate the impossible and what’s left must be the truth”
“I’m opening another bottle, and then we change the subject to something fun – do you think the parties of last year will return?”
“Ok but you must admit my theory explains all the inconsistencies in the three points – We don’t need to know there’s a King or Queen or a King & Queen because there isn’t one – there is only a hidden surveillance state. We will never kill a fellow Al-ito-zan, because they will kill us long before that via the roaming secret police/execution squad the ones that by necessity are roaming ‘totally free’ and untrammeled – ex Serfs”
“That’s quite enough Nicholas!”
Walter is now visibly angry, his face beet red and sweat is dripping off his nose. He throws his dreg filled glass into the now embers-only fireplace, the crash sound echoes and a few bits of glass bounce back at their feet. Being well bred both Walter and Nicholas allow the emotion to suddenly dissipate.
“Walter, sorry I went to far, I was just fooling around, of course you are right I pushed things to far – as always! I don’t really believe that stuff, I just love to play contrarian – you know that better than anyone Walter”
“Okay Okay Nick, sorry I don’t know what came over me”
“It was just too much blood, that’s the blood talking – that batch of SerfWine is too potent, I’ll complain to the vendor – he’s a bit shonky even if he is well bred.”
“Yes, do that, do that – I’m ok now I’ll just sip some water, can you get me some”
“Yes of course Walter – take a seat for a moment”.
Nicholas went down the hallway, in the hallway he past all of his 20th century history-based posters, WW1 posters of trench warfare, another of the Spanish flu, one of the Moon landings another of the Berlin Wall falling.
He thought to himself that he better keep his ideas to himself – no one must know of his spouting off what could be twisted as ‘counter revolutionary thought’ because this would certainly break Principal 1 – “Honour the King Or Queen Or The King & Queen”. But then he laughed as he heard himself think. He suddenly became himself again – lacking in confidence. He felt stupid for thinking they were all being deceived by some “hidden surveillance state”. He was just an idiot, like he had always been, and that’s what he told himself now.
He suddenly started to dread going back to see Walter. He had more than embarrassed himself. His mind started to race “what if Walter tells Stacey about what I said? What if she tells her nosey gossipy wife, then she her friends, then them their husbands and then everyone else? But then he told himself he might be ok as there probably is no police or reporting system anyway – the worst he’d be is deeply embarrassed for a week or two. But then he thought “what if I’m right and there is a hidden surveillance state”. He was pretty sure if there was, it was still in its infancy and imperfect – I mean he had seen no roaming ‘Vanquished Serfs’ in his country estate.
He had to make a call – if he was right, and did nothing Walter would blab, the story would grow and he would almost certainly be found out. From his love of 20th century History and Sci-fi he guessed that Surveillance State – if it was real would torture or imprison him. Or perhaps, he’d be killed and replaced with a duplicate advanced AI robot and no one would realise he was gone. He decided even though he couldn’t take that chance – he would have to kill Walter by bashing his head with the kitchen pestle and he can simply drag his body and throw his body in the artificial dam near his house – there are many big rocks that litter the place it would look like he tripped hit his head, blacked out and fell in the water unconscious and drowned. In killing Walter – a fellow Al-ito-zan, he would of course break ‘Principle 2’. But no one would know it, so who cares?. Despite lacking general confidence Nicholas was always forthright when he had a good systematic plan.
Tears welled up as it sunk in what he was to do. He would miss Walter dearly as his only ‘best friend’, his old school friend. No other adults over 30 still had ‘best friends’ but Nicholas and Walter were still best friends. He had flashbacks of all the good times he and Walter had had, the bike rides, the swimming, both being bullied nerds in high school, the heavy drinking as they were coming of age at university.
He grabbed the pestle from by the sink, filled Walter’s glass and began to walk back. he’d give Walter the drink and spin some story about the pestle’s potential rareness and not being able to read the makers mark on the bottom of the pestle. He’d simply ask Walter to read it and then as Walter leaned in, he would do the business and kill him with a few lusty firm blows. As he was walking down the hallway suddenly Walter was already there, with his hand behind his back. Nicholas was startled and jolted backwards, dropping the pestle and water and in so smashing the glass on the old hardwood wooden floorboards.
“Oh, I was waiting a while for the water so I thought I’d see what was keeping you”
“Walter, boy you scared me! Sorry the tap has been playing up…now I’ve dropped your water”
“Oh don’t worry spilt milk or spilt water still doesn’t make me cry! Let me help you clean it up”
“Haha sure, sure thing Walt”
Nicholas’s plan was now disrupted, and not being a seasoned killer and only ever having been the one being beaten up versus dishing it out, he decided he’d abandoned his plan to kill Walter entirely. Walter was coming towards him now; he would just act naturally and go with the flow. He lent down and started picking up the pieces of glass and at the same time surreptitiously pushed the pestle out of sight with his foot. Walter was now right next to Nicholas both crouching down heads perhaps a foot apart. He bent down, he first picked up by far the largest shard of glass, which was triangular with a pen knife shape and still connected to the glasses thick base.
Nicholas was almost finished the sentence “Walter, I’m such a clumsy idiot” when Walter suddenly moved swiftly and lacerated Nicholas’s neck from ear to ear. In the same motion he turned Nicholas’s body so that the blood spurts would hit the wall and not land on him or in particular his face. It almost seemed Walter had done this many times before.
Nicholas slumped back, and felt his life slowly drain away with the large pool of blood now trickling from him. With the last seconds of life, he looked at Walter. Walter stood up and said “You were right to question the Three Principles Nicholas, this is why they told me to keep an eye on you. You were mostly correct in your analysis”. Walter then slowly transformed before Nicolas and his quickly dying body. In a period of no more than three seconds Walters ‘wealthy man’s clothes’ changed to Vanquished Serf like rags, and his face morphed to a weather-beaten and unrecognisable dirty face. He then smelt an unfamiliar stale sweat. In Nicolas’s last moments he saw the man’s lips move. As his vision and hearing slowly faded out, the man said coldly, loudly and robotically:
“Principle 4: On behalf of the King Or Queen, an Authorised Vanquished Serf, can be instructed to kill an Al-ito-zan if and only if, said Al-ito-zan transgresses or intends to transgress one some or all of Principles One, Two or Three. Principle 4 is only advised via a need-to-know basis.”
Published by Martin Smith Creations ltd (NZ) all rights reserved, no commercial use without written acceptance and permission by Martin .A. Smith. Contact via martinantonsmith@gmail.com
Welcome to The Baby Wants Its Bottle Philosophy & Poetry Inc. Podcast, a creative project by Martin Anton Smith, a NZ based creative. In this episode I read 3 New Poems: Zen & the Art of Not Making Nukes/Claptrap The Monkey/Modern Woman. When writing the intro for this podcast, I cannot but feel about the world in the same way as LENIN did when he said “Decades can pass without anything much happening, then suddenly many decades can pass in days”. For does not this quote sum up the situation the world finds itself in today?
The 2022 Ukraine-Russian war has been brewing for, you could certainly argue, since the fall of the Berlin wall 1990. Shortly after this huge event the US-led Nato Alliance begun an ever expansion towards Russia’s border. Of course, I should add the obvious fact that Putin did not like this fact, and had spent decades warning of his displeasure, as evidenced best by his 2007 speech. Of course, the Eu/Nato/US story is it happened overnight as isolated insanity in the mind of “USSR Empire Regaining” Putin. As with two playground adversary children who are called to the principal’s office for their over exuberance – the truth will naturally lie somewhere between these partisan and propagandised extremes. But sadly, no one bar a few commentators seems to be admitting this sober fact, and I fear this view will be soon silence completely as guilty of the crime of “being an apologist”. In War time it seems you aren’t allowed to be rational.
Fast forward to 2004 14 years after the Nato expansion and we saw a messy political coup whereby in a nutshell we saw a political rupture where Ukraine split from a view to Russia towards that of US Nato @ the Eu. However at least one area never accepted this or the elections that resulted in a political break away from Russia. This was the Donbass area. Thus in 2014 a border skirmish broke out as two breakaway regions announce independent statehood vs wider Ukraine. And I haven’t mentioned the Russian annexation of Crimea that same year – which went Putin’s and the Separatists way but raised the West ire in terms of economic warfare/sanction on Russia.
Now in the most recent event we see a full-blown invasion by Russia on the entire Ukraine. Of course, in the fog of war and war’s partisan propaganda, it is not necessarily obvious who is “the bad guy” and “who is the good guy”. Putin says he is a liberator of a rogue state and a defender of Donbass and Russia from Nato encroachment, while Nato/Eu/The West says essentially Putin is a new ‘Hitler’, but isn’t willing to directly enter the fray with troops for fear of sparking WW3.
We have Volodimir Zelenskyy the Ukraine president being painted as a Churchillian figure in the West. We have The West attacking Russia with economic warfare, which surely seem to be a risk factor for major blowback, even if only economic. It seems strange that the West is very cautious regroup troops, but happy to pull the trigger on sanctions and even target Russian citizens assets on foreign land. Could this not fan the flames of a new WW3? I will briefly say this: Are we the “Western nations” acting wisely with strategy to stop the War, to stop disaster and so much death and displacement of refugees? I am not sure we are acting wisely at all.
I am also concerned about private foreign citizens signing up for the war – but I guess this has always happened – famously Orwell himself did this is the Spanish Civil War. In a depressing thought, perhaps all those decades of relative peace were simply a mirage. Did we become complacent about War so much that we became loose with our morals and lost our stoicism? Or is this still with us simply hidden under layers of metaphorical clothing? I fear we have become deluded to think that our technology, scientists, false ‘economic wizards at the central bank’s’ and progress itself has improved our world and made it “self-repairing” of its many ailments.
Perhaps we have forgotten the cyclical nature of society, and we have now landed back to the looming crisis of the 1930’s. I fear whatever is happening may be an unstoppable force, and we are strapped heartily to the “Wings of Destiny”. The only certainty now is a mathematical truism. This War, and now mass sanctions and refugees have added many new variables to our world and thus a different “world line” of results.
We may look back at 2022 as the “end of an Epoch, and the Start of another. But no one, not the brightest of the bright can knows what the world will look like in 2032. Perhaps by 2032 we will look at the “TERMINATOR” 1984 movie as prophesy, and a kindly counter revolutionary called KYLE will save us from “the Rise of the Machines” – but if that is true, will the survivors know they were saved? Or would their memories of this be under lock and key in another timeline in another parallel universe?
One feels that an era similar to the “Quantum Revolution” of the first half of the 20th century is nearly upon us. It needn’t be the much hegemonic movie script dystopia prophesy of ‘artificial intelligence’. it will probably be totally unexpected as was the World Wide Web was as a socio-technical event. Perhaps we may need to live under Europa’s sea, or on Mars sooner than we think. You can’t leave anything off the table and what is on the table may be stacked astoundingly high.
The first poem “Zen & the Art Of Not Making Nukes’ has elusions to destiny, Predestination, forgiveness and will power. We all have a choice at the individual group and nation level to forgive without necessarily forgetting. Is war not simply an inability to forgive coupled with a dream of retribution? Is not war simply the emotional immaturity of a Politician and their generals who think victory will make them and their people more valuable and respected?
The second poem is a blunt assessment that we “the human race” are still “as Chimps”, with all these fangled ways (Suits, Smartphones, Elections etc) to deny it. It’s just a few words to say that we need to be more humble and less egotistical and materialistic. Though I am guilty of insulting Chimps, I would also like to talk out both sides of my mouth and say this: We should be learning from Monkeys and other animals and live simply more have more basic and sustainable lives. We really are a troubled bunch, and I would not be surprised if the Earth culled us back.
The third Poem is about those few Women that are simply the glue that hold our communities together. These are the Women who are really like an alien race in themselves, and rise above the more standard and ridiculous Men and Women. Yes, aliens do actually exist, and I’ve met a couple of them popping in and out of the fabric of the cosmos. But alas, I’ve never been smart enough to become good friends with one. Perhaps all the War needs is the love of these good ‘alien’ woman, who will stop all the silliness immediately? Stranger things have happened! Perhaps an Alien Female Legion from Trappist star system? Or have I gone too far? After all Alpha Centuri is closer at only 4.1 Light years.
The Fourth Poem I wrote yesterday, and Is an account of “Modern War” and its deep entanglement with money. It points to the insanity whereby many get rich via war. In the poem I posit that in the 21st the soldier themselves have become infected by “Portfolio Culture” and prefers the war continue, so that his “War Stocks Don’t Tank”. The Ultimate question is do we fight wars to make money, or do we make money to fight wars? The wise know that money and a decision to go to War is front in the minds of the topper-most politicians – who never have to fight in the trenches or send in their sons and daughters.
And so let’s begin.
She Did What She Did,
Because She Was Who She Was.
If She Had Done Something Different,
She Would Not Have Been Herself.
She Would Have Been Someone Else.
And The Same Goes For Me.
This Logic Is Robust!
And Armed With This Philosophical Toolkit,
You Can Forgive Histories Worst Tyrant,
Your Parents,
Your Siblings,
Old Schoolmates,
Your Boss & Workmates,
Your Ex,
And Maybe, Just Maybe –
Yourself!
And Anyway,
Learning How To Make Small Tactical Nuclear Weapons,
In Your Parent’s Basement,
Is far Too Costly,
Intellectually Difficult,
Time Consuming,
Personal Injury Causing,
Requires Too Many International Import Licences,
And Is Impossible To Do Without Arousing Suspicion
From The Neighbours,
Who Will Undoubtedly Soon Rat You Out To The Cops.
Your Mother Of Course,
Will Be None-The-Wiser.
So Don’t Go Down That Track.
Don’t Be This Headline:
“Bitter & Twisted Middle Age Loser Arrested After Trying To Build Atomic Bomb In Their Mum’s Basement – Neighbour Tipped Off Police After A Series Of Loud Bangs & Flashes”
Just Accept:
“It Is What It Is” –
Glib But Perfectly Wise & Certainly True.
And Anyway,
Nuclear Armageddon Will Well Take Care Of Itself,
And In it’s Own Way,
Without Your Amateurish Involvement.
The World Is Simply A Pantomime
A Show – A Drama – A Joke.
A Cast Full Of Chimps.
Chimps In Suits & Dresses.
Chimps With Money.
Chimps With No Money.
Nerd Chimps And Jock Chimps.
The Only Problem Is This:
The Chimps Don’t Know They Are Chimps.
Or That They Live in A World Of Make Believe.
They Certainly Don’t Know
That They Are Bad Actors.
This Fact Is The Missing First Page
Of All the History Books That Have Ever Been Written.
But Who Tore Them Out?
In other words,
A billion monkeys
all working at a billion typewriters,
Will eventually type the word
Honorific-abilitudin-itatibus.
END OF POEM
(NOTE : Honorific-abilitudin-itatibus eaning is “The state of someone that can achieve honors “. It is the longest word in Shakespeare‘s works; longest word in the English language featuring alternating consonants and vowels[11])
She wears a cape,
She climbs walls,
Much to my chagrin.
She leaps in shadows,
She twists and shouts,
Watch out enemies.
Where wild men fight,
She whips up a storm,
Now they drink moonshine.
She’s forward in time,
She’s Backward in space
She’s colors in the sky.
She tries to trick,
She’s glad to gloat,
She lights the cosmic pipes.
She can hold
A beam of light
And see around the bend.
She said to the sun,
Can closer I come?
But will you melt my mind?
At Forty-Three, I Got The Nod,
From Couch Blob to World War Three.
Now I’m Half Starving And almost Dead!
But I Haven’t Even Left Yet!
Now There’s a Constant Ringing In My Head.
Coz That Bullet Came From ‘Direction Z’.
But Don’t Despair, My Fellow Bean,
If The War Continues ’til After Tea,
My Share’s Go up 2000 per cent!
Lo and Behold! I’ll Upgrade From The Trench,
To A Raincoat – And Then,
To a Glamorous, High Ceiling Tent!
But If The Enemy Surrenders,
This Great War Will End,
And My Share’s Will Tank!
I’ll Be Skint, Flat Broke – Outa Bread!
But Never-mind Dear Chap,
I Messaged The Other Side,
And Asked Them Politely,
To Keep Up the Fighting.
So Not To Sell Us Short!
For In The Madness of 21st Century War,
Having No Money or Stocks,
Is Universally Agreed Upon As
a Fate Far Worse Than Death.
P.s. The Glorious Soldier Outlasted The War,
And Basks In the Sun Outside His Mansion,
In the Cayman Islands.
And Now Writes His Glorius Memoirs,
Of Trading Stocks,
Amid Whizzing Bullets,
Going Past His Ears,
In the Trenches,
On A “Smartphone”
At “The Front”.
Thank you for listening to the Baby Wants Its Bottle Philosophy & Poetry Podcast, A creative project by Martin Anton Smith, a NZ based creative. This podcast is available on Spotify or wherever you get your podcasts from.
Published by Martin Anton Smith creations ltd (NZ) © All Rights reserved. No Commercial Use or Commercial Public Broadcast Allowed Without Written Permission. Non-Commercial/Educational Broadcast is Freely Encouraged.
She Did What She Did,
Because She Was Who She Was.
If She Had Done Something Different,
She Would Not Have Been Herself.
She Would Have Been Someone Else.
And The Same Goes For Me.
This Logic Is Robust!
And Armed With This Philosophical Toolkit,
You Can Forgive Histories Worst Tyrant,
Your Parents,
Your Siblings,
Old Schoolmates,
Your Boss & Workmates,
Your Ex,
And Maybe, Just Maybe –
Yourself!
And Anyway,
Learning How To Make Small Tactical Nuclear Weapons,
In Your Parent’s Basement,
Is far Too Costly,
Intellectually Difficult,
Time Consuming,
Personal Injury Causing,
Requires Too Many International Import Licences,
And Is Impossible To Do Without Arousing Suspicion
From The Neighbours,
Who Will Undoubtedly Soon Rat You Out To The Cops.
Your Mother Of Course,
Will Be None-The-Wiser.
So Don’t Go Down That Track.
Don’t Be This Headline:
“Bitter & Twisted Middle Age Loser Arrested After Trying To Build Atomic Bomb In Their Mum’s Basement – Neighbour Tipped Off Police After A Series Of Loud Bangs & Flashes”
Just Accept:
“It Is What It Is” –
Glib But Perfectly Wise & Certainly True.
And Anyway,
Nuclear Armageddon Will Well Take Care Of Itself,
And In it’s Own Way,
Without Your Amateurish Involvement.
Anton Martin Smith Writer 