Disorder in the Real
Something has gone wrong, somewhere along the way the polarities were switched or we missed a critical turn or…?
Power has devolved to self-interested, greedy individuals in the thrall of capital.
We have been passive observers, happy to cede control and responsibility to others as long as that means we’re free to pursue our frivolous entertainments and distractions.
But all of a sudden it’s like someone has decided the illusion need no longer be maintained. The elite have grown wary of even the tepid, paltry democracy we celebrate every four years.
There will no longer be elections, key positions will be appointed from a trained, compliant technocracy.
Not politicians, autocrats.
Aided by a permanent state of emergency, which helps rationalize the curbs to freedom, the removal of basic rights, judicial oversight, etc. When liberty, personal or collective, impedes commerce (they claim), the natural order is disrupted and economic stability threatened.
Rich, as a reward. Poor for a reason.
Alert for dissent, some budding Robespierre waiting in the wings (the creak and rumble of tumbrils still haunt their dreams). Discredit or kill potential opposition leaders (give ’em the “Assange treatment”). No quarter for class enemies. To the victors, the spoils.
Idolizing Lee Kuan Yew, while demonizing Marx.
Controlling the means of production and the dissemination of information.
Governing a cowed and stupid populace, relegated to low wages, uncertainty, fear; resigned to their diminished station.
Militarizing and privatizing the police, just in case harsher lessons are required.
Resorting to patriotism, should every other artifice fail.
Endless processions of driverless cars.
Delivering their contents to automated houses.
Under the constant scrutiny of cameras, overhead drones.
Smart appliances reporting preferences, behavior, patterns; mined for data, narcing to their corporate masters.
Election night: voting by remote control, hardly bothering to check the results.
Keeping your head down, mouth shut.
Addicted to livestreaming porn sites.
Disgusted by the state of affairs but powerless to effect any change.
Buying stupid trinkets to fill the void.
Drugs when nothing else works.
An epidemic of suicide in your age bracket.
Desperately lonely and neurotic, verging on anti-social.
In your solitary rooms, secured by triple locks.
Talking to yourself and the listening walls.
Waiting for the knock on your door.
© Cliff Burns (All Rights Reserved)
It flutters and at first I think it’s a leaf or a feather.
Run to catch it.
But it moves in my hands!
Drop it like it’s hot.
Go and get Mother.
Telling me to shush as she kneels beside it.
Looking up at me, crying.
“It’s called a butterfly. Butterfly.”
Making me repeat it, so I’ll never forget.
© Copyright, 2014 Cliff Burns (All Rights Reserved)
What? More free reading for you? Why not? It’s summertime, kick back, take it easy. And here’s a mind-blowing little gem, a short story from my Reality Machine collection that I think, in all honesty, is one of the ten best I’ve ever written.
“New World Man” owes its origins to some time I spent with…I guess you’d call him a street kid. I met him at a record store/head shop after we moved back to Saskatchewan (from Baffin Island) in the mid-90’s. Hung out with “Kyle” (not his name), met his extended family, seven or eight young people sharing a grotty one-room apartment, sleeping bags spread out on the floor like nests, music constantly playing. Kyle was a Rancid freak and tried to convert me–didn’t take, pal, sorry. He introduced me to someone who morphed into the “Marvin” character and gave me a peek at a sub-culture, a way of viewing the world that was invaluable to the writing of the story.
But “New World Man” also reflects my growing misgivings as I watch the increasing prevalence and attraction of video games; we’re on the cusp of functional virtual reality, full immersion in an invented, interactive environment. What will that do to relationships, the role of family and friends, regular social intercourse with strangers on the street, at the market? More on this subject in a future post…
A German editor selected “New World Man” for an anthology of the 20 All Time Best Science Fiction Stories (Goldmann Publishing); he told me with some glee that my tale bumped one by Ike Asimov from the book. My name even made the cover, along with Arthur C. Clarke, Philip K. Dick and William Gibson. Wow. The story also appeared, I should add, in the Canadian science fiction magazine On Spec.
If you really love this tale, you’ll find it in my book The Reality Machine, which is available through my virtual “Book Store” (above)–you can also pick it up from Mark Ziesing Books, Amazon, abebooks.com, etc. Originally published in 1997, it contains some of my favorite short pieces, including “Also Starring”, “While You Were Away” and “RSVP”.
Now get reading:
Click here for a free download of my short story “NewWorldMan“