Like many of you,
I enjoy fantasizing about the Apocalypse.
Or more accurately
I enjoy fantasizing about after the Apocalypse,
when all of mankind has been wiped out
except for me, a sexy love interest, a few buddies,
and a gang of villains we need to overcome.
We see it all the time in books, films, TV:
a burned-out, empty world
with the sins of mankind scorched away by some disaster
of our own making
and we die by the hand of Hubris.
It's a fantasy born of fear, misanthropy, and narcissism
(everybody deserves to die except for me because I'm special).
Billions have to be wiped out to atone for the sins of the specialty
classes:
the oligarchy
the aristocracy
old money
the political class
the industrial giants.
We fantasize about wiping out 99.99999%
When all of mankind's worst is based on a blueprint from the 0.00001.
The problem is, it's always wrong.
In the fantasy, it's always an empty desert.
But really, without people here,
In a few months, it would all be oh so green.
* * *
