Postcards from the uncivil war

You may have thought that the idea of kidnapping people off the street, flinging them into a dungeon, then ‘disappearing’ them, was entirely old hat. So, arguing about this sort of thing probably declined sometime very soon after the signing of the Magna Carta. I know I did. In fact, not kidnapping people always seemed to me to be the natural default position. You live and learn.

I seem to have come unstuck in time. I spent all morning renegotiating the Magna Carta, while simultaneously refighting the English Civil War, the American Revolutionary War, and occasionally repelling various Viking Hordes. As a result, I’m not only confused, I’m totally fagged.

Early this morning the threads of The Australian were flooded with eerie barbarian war chants, but even as I watched, valiant counterattacks by serried ranks of WTF comments seemed to be making some ground. I wouldn’t go so far as saying that civilization was winning, but by ten o’clock at least some people were fractiously acknowledging that the wheel may have been a good idea. Which is marginally better than yesterday’s nonstop testosterone fueled Gregorian chanting.

I only skimmed high over the urban wasteland of the Comments Section at The Telegraph. At the best of times this is dangerous ground, a place where innocent intruders could easily get waylaid or lost. But today it looked positively otherworldly and way too weird to linger for long. As far as I could tell, the locals were having a whale of a time alternatively reenacting the invasion of the Godless Persian Hordes and the sacking of Rome. Each to their own. I didn’t want to get too close.

Then after nipping overseas and moving to the threads of the Washington Times, I instantly found myself embroiled in the American Civil War. I landed in a southern encampment where the pro-slavery faction were simply ‘owning’ everyone and everything. It was kinda hard to communicate effectively as not even the faintest trace of rationality or enlightenment seemed to be available. The few tattered northerners still visible had all been reduced to constantly mumbling inane comments about the price of eggs.

Out of desperation I repeatedly tried the simple test of displaying to the MAGA hordes a picture of a club, and then a picture of a courtroom. But they still can’t seem to tell them apart? Amazing!

At the NY Post it is a wanton intellectual BDSM bloodbath. Within bare moments of entry, I had begun to look back longingly on the simple and naïve hatreds and lies of my Aussie childhood. The atmosphere was thick and oppressive and small packs of right-wing thugs were chasing down liberals, then beating up on themselves. It was truly bizarre.

“Look, I may have lost my job (whack), my partner may have been deported (wallop), my children might hate me (smack), I might not be able to afford to eat (slam), and social security may have been mostly dismantled (kaboom), but at least Trump is looking after people like me (kersplat).”

At the Washington Post everyone is reliving the American Civil War backwards. It took me a while to catch on, but the progression they are aiming at seems to be to start with a cohesive and relatively prosperous country and a sophisticated political system and then fight a war to dismantle all this and so allow working people be happily enslaved and have no discernible civil rights. Who am I to quibble? Whatever floats your boat.

Fighting for sanity and smiths’ crisps across several millennia and continents makes for a long day. Moments ago, just before starting in on this diatribe, I glanced outside and noticed it is almost the early 21st century. How time flies?

So, I had better close this note before I suffer another drastic time shift. Who knows? By tomorrow the entire internet may be reduced to merely grunts and waves, we all live in hope. Anyways: stay tuned for more news from the total dissolution of civilization as we know it from your babbling idiot in the field. (If you can refrain from gouging your own eyes out with a spoon until next week, it would be much appreciated.)

Adios, amigos.

 

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