Deceptia, land of freedom and love. The white flag with a single blue star flew proudly over the capital each day. “We are the beacon of light in this world of darkness,” our newly elected president said spreading his arms wide, “Come unto us, embrace us, Deceptia is your Savior.” They fell, one by one, regardless of culture or faith, they all, whether by choice or force, accepted our “modern freedom.” Countless wars were fought and countless good men died. All in the name of freedom. Even when they had accepted our way of life none were quite as prosperous as we. Our economy was run by three men: the Oil Baron, the Technology Baron, and the Banking Lord. No one ever wondered who they really were or why they chose these feudal sounding names. All businesses, large and small, were controlled by these men. It seemed that every week the media would report we were in another recession due to government spending, mostly on military equipment and new weapons to control the countries we had recently liberated. And then the President and the Banking Lord would stand up and tell the people this was false. “The economy is stronger then ever,” I remember the President saying the day before I lost my job. But still I believed them, we all did. After all we put them into power, would they lie to us? It was unthinkable. Our society and Deceptian way of life was praised each night on the news as the greatest in the world. I remember when The Pedophile Lounge was built across the street from my house. “Children grow up fast these days,” they said. I saw children going in all the time so I thought nothing of it when my seven year old son wanted to go. I haven’t seen him in three years. I received a letter last year telling me he was living with his lover, a thirty year old accountant. My sister was sent to one of the new hospitals last year. She went for a doctor’s checkup weighing one hundred and nine pounds; at her funeral she weighed sixty. My wife was forcibly checked into one weighing one hundred and five pounds; they sent her home weighing a triumphant seventy-five. She hasn’t been able to move or do anything for herself since. The machines tell me she’s still with us, but I’m not so sure. These Female Obesity Prevention Clinics were built and staffed as a charitable program by the world wide clothing store chain Anamia. If I hadn’t needed clothing I wouldn’t have shopped there. I guess I should have become a nudist before they were shipped off to the island camps with the other “culturally diverse freaks.” But then again I would have had to learn not to eat too. They bought up all the restaurants and grocery stores soon after the clinics were built, supported heartily by the Banking Lord and the Satellite Broadcasting Company, owned by the Technology Baron of course. Everyone loved the Technology Baron. He entertained us, he supplied the devices that made life simple, he made celebrities famous who in turn taught us how to live and look, and most importantly he kept us informed of what the government was doing. And we trusted him. But of course we trusted the government first and foremost so why shouldn’t we believe the Baron’s perfect, if sometimes contradicting, view of the world. It all made sense; each political party had its own news station. If you had voted for the President you watched the station he was praised on, if you had voted for his rival, which was unlikely, you watched the station he was criticized on. No one ever thought this was the least bit odd. I was one of the few who didn’t care for the Technology Baron much. He actually came and shook my hand when I was laid off my job. It didn’t make sense at the time until one of my former students told me one day that she didn’t like the new teacher. “He doesn’t tell us stories like you did, just gives us facts to learn, it’s boring,” she had said. I wasn’t the last teacher to b replaced by the new robots. The Oil Baron was the richest of them all though. He controlled the gas stations and any kind of transportation production including automobiles, planes, military vehicles, buses, and nautical vessels. He limited the production of anything run on fuels other than gasoline. Of course we were upset by the high prices but no one thought the men we trusted could be behind it. We continued to complain without questioning why up until the end, when we no longer needed fuel. This is the world in which I lived, the country into which I was born. It all seemed so right, made so much sense. We were so blind. We soaked up the lies like sponges, until we were finally squeezed at the end and the truth came out. It’s too late now though, too late for any of us. I’ve decided to include a few journal entries of mine to explain how all these things came to pass. I think they will be coming for me soon. So in case I don’t finish this I wish you all well and I sincerely hope that things change. I believe humanity has great potential; it should not be stunted by a dictatorship. |