CSI: American Carnage (Tuesday, March 24, 2020)
THE CENTRAL PLAINS – Far below the empty towns with their stacks of cadavers and marauding dogs, beneath the silence of the highways and the squeaking wind turbines, soaring markers for the eagle cemeteries, far beneath the banging, splintered doors and the shattered windows, the Dark One ruminates alone within the Memento Mori Mausoleum in the north spur of the vast central plains complex. He sips his green tea, purchased from Hong Kong suppliers who ignore the pestilence sweeping around them in order to do their patriotic duty and ship, ship at all costs. At the far end of the Mausoleum what was once his younger brother lies in a mound of calcified bone and dust, his familiar skull with its gaping mouth of dental implants turned toward the elder brother — the last organic survivor of a now-eternal dynasty, a dynastic system far beyond human bounds, a dynasty that knows no space or time. It will continue on as an eternal accumulator, beyond human reach, but never beyond control, never deviating from its key purpose, acquisition and accumulation. Nothing else will ever matter. The elder brother sips his tea in complete satisfaction and breaks his silence. My brother, he says, I find as I grow older that the chatter of the servi and the whining of the vassals becomes deeply tiresome. It is so comforting to be here with you. He raises his glass of tea in a sign of honor. He says, The Gambler Showman has outdone himself and his followers have not waivered. They are quite ready. Father would be so excited! Do you recall how thrilled he was observing the German faithful and their Bavarian house painter? They followed their leader anywhere – the result, in father’s view, of a robust manufacturing sector with strong owners willing to enforce order. Father was thrilled! Now the Gambler Showman has created the post-modern dictatorship. He excels at nothing, is quite incompetent, has no self-awareness, is unable to think, and all the rest. But he is a master of manipulation. You will find this interesting. The Showman mentioned chloroquine at a few of his virus rallies as a cure for the virus. And naturally some of his supporters immediately scooped some out of their fish tank and poisoned themselves to death. Is this not an amazing feat? The Showman has convinced his followers that the real virus is a hoax and the fake cure is real. The elder brother takes another sip of tea and chuckles softly. He says, Father would be most interested. Now one of the Showman’s Texas vassals has suggested older servi should kill themselves with virus to “get the country moving again.” Another chuckle riffles through the silence of the Mausoleum. The brother continues. He says, This may mark one of the first times when advanced capitalism merges with a death cult. He stops again. And then continues, The Showman is now brazenly playing blood capitalism. Remarkable! Here is the ultimate fighting game, where human life is directly converted into profit. The Gambler Showman, my brother, is a vector for our way of life and we honor him for his service. He sips some tea and falls silent. – Tuesday, March 24, 2020