by Ray Jason
A
FICTIONAL MESSAGE FROM THE NEAR FUTURE
Is it possible that I can no longer laugh? I mean this literally. How long has it been since my last laugh? Certainly it has been years, but I cannot remember exactly how many.
What spurred this question was the little chuckle that I just experienced. It was prompted by the irony of my situation. Here I am, profoundly alone, striving to achieve one simple goal – to remain fully HUMAN.
In order to achieve this, I sailed to a place where no one would dare follow. My quest to survive as a free … biological ... non-augmented ... human being has taken me to Bikini Atoll. It is the remote location where they tested the hydrogen bombs – the most powerful weapons ever designed to kill humans.
Choosing this as my refuge, is a level of irony that even the most skilled cosmic trickster would admire. In order to stay human, I am secluded where weapons were tested that could erase humanity from Planet Earth.
Besides choosing this location for its irony, I was also attracted by its safety. Since most people believe that the lagoon is still radioactive, I gambled that I would be left alone.
*******
Like a monk from the Dark Ages, my quest is to protect the tiny flame of “what had been,” so that some unknown event in the future could lead back to “what could be again.”
My mission is to document the final years that led to The Fatal Merge and The Great Purge. And more importantly to stand proud as a reminder that our garden planet was once lush with human beings who were free and strong and creative and playful and visionary. My goal is to prove that the so-called “cyber-enhancements” did not improve us, they destroyed us.
*******
Because I am a sailor/philosopher, I have decided to use a hurricane image as the best description of what happened. The first assault of the storm was the Wuhan Virus crisis that began in January of 2020. In the Autumn, the predicted Second Wave of death did not materialize.
Most people celebrated this as the passing of the tempest. But in fact, we had entered the eye of the hurricane. Far more deadly blasts of wind and woe awaited us.
*******
During those dark times, there were courageous dissenters trying to alert us to the imminent dangers. Hundreds, and possibly thousands, of clear thinkers were using the Internet in an attempt to awaken humanity to the Technological Tyranny that would soon suffocate their Freedom and then their very Existence.
I was one of those stationed on the world-wide watchtowers trying to convince the people that horrific dangers were hiding beyond the gates. I also warned them that these evils were cleverly cloaked in the robes of benevolence.
Our enemies told us that the control mechanisms that were secretly ensnaring us, were not being initiated to enslave us. They claimed that they were being mandated for our own good. Their lie was that although they might seem harsh; these policies were actually there to help us.
We, who comprised the resistance, could point to conferences, documents, interviews and quotations that described the monumental changes to society that these self-appointed elites had in store for us. We were not exaggerating how diabolical their plans were; nor how swiftly they could be instituted.
Hell, they even inscribed it on enormous granite slabs known as the Georgia Guidestones. The very first pronouncement of these Stonehenge-sized Ten Commandments was to keep the population at around 500 million. This meant that over 7 billion people would have to be … eliminated.
*******
During that prelude to the final takeover, I coined a phrase to describe these un-elected rulers. I called them the Malignant Overlords. The society that they envisioned and desired could be accurately described as a High-tech Neo-feudalism. The more frequently used term of Technocracy always struck me as being too neutral and not diabolical enough.
Their plan was that the M.O.s would live in obscene opulence, while the vast majority of humanity would do the grunt work to facilitate their decadent lifestyles. There would also be an intermediary class of technicians to oversee the surveillance grid, the robots and the Artificial Intelligence.
Another element of their plantation-style society was the security sector. This was comprised of police and military units. During The Unrest, there was a heated debate over whether these forces would side with the People or with their Paymasters. Tragically, the optimists were wrong and the realists were right.
There was one other group that serviced the tyrants. These were the cyber-nano-surgeons, who were tasked with “augmenting” the ruling class in the hopes that they would merge their brains with computers and thereby attain super-human powers and possibly even immortality.
I concocted a sarcastic name for these so-called doctors. I called them HIPPOCRATS, because their efforts grotesquely defiled the revered code of medical ethics known as the Hippocratic Oath.
*******
During the WuVi lunacy, one of the recurring conversations with my closest friends focused on the near impossibility of discovering Truth in the modern world. Attempts to confuse humanity were so widespread and so sophisticated that the former head of the CIA, William Casey, unashamedly stated this:
“We will know our disinformation campaign is complete when everything the American public believes is false.”
This was clearly evident in every aspect of the Wuhan Virus crisis. Given its astonishingly high survival rate, should it have even been classified as a pandemic? And how absurd was it that most people who supposedly “had it” did not realize this because they were suffering from symptoms, but because of test results. And this was using tests that were notorious for issuing “false positives.”
From the “what is actually true” perspective, every element of the response to this virus was extremely suspicious. Hell, the normal medical protocols that are used to establish an actual “new” corona virus were never even established.
If people looked around objectively and filtered out the 24/7 media hype, they would have never believed the narrative that there was a plague devouring the planet. Neither friends nor strangers were dropping dead around them.
The hardships that the medical and political authorities imposed on their citizens were not just diabolical, but schizophrenic. Masks don’t work. Oh wait a minute, they do work. Lock-downs are effective - except for the fact that many places with the strictest lock-downs had the worst death rates. Social distancing is utterly imperative - unless you are “peacefully protesting” with bricks and molotov cocktails.
Tragically, as lives, businesses, futures and hopes were destroyed by these draconian policies, most people reached the wrong conclusion. They assumed that their rulers had “made mistakes.”
Because of their “decency bias,” the regular people could not conceive of the fact that this was not a mistake - but a deliberate and malicious hoax. They refused to believe that it was a psychological operation designed to terrify and demoralize them.
During a period of world-shifting change, it is difficult to have the perspective to see how monumental the impact will be. Terms that were common at the time such as the New World Order and The Great Reset and The Fourth Industrial Revolution were innocently perceived by the masses as vague possibilities somewhere far out on the distant horizon. But they were certainly nothing to worry about now.
Yet, as I look back with years of hindsight, at the efforts of those of us on the watch-towers to alert the people to the horrors that awaited them, I should be moved to tears. But just as I have not laughed in years, so too, I have not cried in years.
*******
However, on a brighter note, you might be interested in how I chose this most bizarre of monasteries.
Initially, I had planned on voyaging to the Austral Islands that are very rarely visited by sailing vessels. But when I observed how swiftly France had shut down Polynesia and refused entry to sailboats, I searched for another destination.
I needed a place where I could sneak in and live off the land and the sea long term. Bikini Atoll was perfect.
The last hydrogen bomb test was in 1958. The miraculous capacity of Mother Ocean to heal herself, had already returned the enormous lagoon back into a viable ecosystem. The fish supply was limitless and exceedingly easy to catch. For variety, there was delicious turtle meat.
There were also gigantic seabird rookeries with abundant eggs for needed fat in my diet. All of this bounty had been free of radiation for decades. The only troublesome food sources were the coconuts and the fruits on the islands that circled the lagoon.
But medical specialists who regularly monitored the conditions, had discovered that if the upper topsoil was dug up and discarded, then garden crops could be safely grown. I had been carrying basic seeds with me for years and was eventually able to coax along a little plot of zucchinis. I guarded that patch like it was the Mona Lisa. I wonder where her enigmatic smile is these days? Probably in the mansion of some Silicon Valley swine.
*******
There was one other human here when I arrived. He was in his mid-80s, but stunningly robust. With his mahogany skin and black hair and gleaming white teeth, he was like an elder Tarzan - except he was living wild in the Sea rather than in the Jungle.
When the Marshall Islands authorities came to evacuate the skeleton crew that was stationed on Bikini, he had told them that he would not abandon his beloved island. They would either have to leave without him or have his blood on their hands. Apparently, it was quite a scene as he stood defiantly on the dock with his own knife pressed against his own neck.
...to be continued…
THE NEXT INSTALLMENT IS COMING SOON.
