The Professor winced when he got out of his flight capsule. He had to keep reminding himself of how crucial his assignment was, that every little bit counted. No matter how hopeless it seemed.
“Remember, you’re doing sacred work, Henrik,” he muttered under his breath.
A rag-tag crowd of natives was already beginning to gather, gawking at his ship. A few of them cheered and applauded, but most just stared, stone-faced.
Naomi bounded out to meet him. She looked energetic as ever, no matter how much human misery she witnessed on a daily basis.
“Thank you for agreeing to come here, sir,” she said after hugging him. “This is a rough area.”
“Rough areas are my job,” he replied, his Swedish accent making the word “job” softer. Not all of his colleagues at World United agreed that the charity missions to Merka were worthwhile. He couldn’t blame them. Visiting a place like New York wasn’t too bad–it was quaint with all the red brick, and the traffic-clogged streets and old-fashioned subways, but one still felt connected to civilization. Out here, though….
“What part of Virginia are we in again?” he whispered to Naomi.
“Western Virginia, sir,” she whispered back.
The Merkans continued to eye him with suspicion, but they also started quietly lining up, knowing that a World United flight meant food and aid packages for them. It was a heart-wrenching sight: a long line of silent, ragged figures, pretending to be too proud to care about the hand-out they were waiting for.
But Naomi was beaming at him. “We’ve got something very special lined up for you today, sir.”
He gave her a weary smile. She led him carefully down the steps from the landing pad, and then down a narrow, uneven sidewalk, manoeuvering him past a large pothole. On the other side of the street was a row of the typical small shacks Merkans lived in, holes covered with blue tarp, walls stained by the smoke from the town factory. He could sense the residents peering at him from their doorways, but they were blocked from approaching him by a mix of local police and World United security.
They stopped underneath a flashing blue sign which read Debbie’s Cafe.
“We wanted to treat you to the best Virginia has to offer,” Naomi said, showing him to a table on the side patio of the cafe. A server immediately jogged up with a styrofoam tray of greasy fries.
He would never admit it to anyone back in Europe, but Henrik enjoyed some of these exotic Merkan foods quite a bit. They never did switch to the health service diet over here. Of course, they never did get a decent health service, either.
Naomi interrupted his fascination with the fries when she tapped him on the shoulder and pointed to a red-headed boy who had climbed a small podium and positioned himself behind a cheap portable keyboard.
After an announcement by a community center music teacher which Henrik didn’t pay attention to, the boy began to play.
It was a halting but graceful version of the old Cohen classic, Hallelujah. As the sounds melted away into the humid Merkan afternoon, Henrik was once again overcome with wonder. It was here, among these simple people in their slums, that he could find something akin to spiritual enlightenment. He breathed it in.
The kid was talented. He listened for a while with his eyes closed. After the song stopped, the teacher and Naomi clapped with great enthusiasm. Henrik walked up to congratulate the young musician, and the gaunt and nervous mother hovering behind him.
Henrik shook the boy’s hand. “Excellent job! That was amazing!” he said. “Would you please give me your contact info? I could get you a visa for anywhere in the Northern World Region. You could study music at a real university. What do you think, huh?”
The boy blushed and gazed at the ground.
His mother looked even more nervous. “I don’t know about that, mister,” she said. “I listen to the radio news and they’ve explained all about World United. It might not be so good for him.”
He should’ve known. He had heard this so many times before. “Surely he won’t be able to get any real music training here, is he?”
“If we work hard and we save our money up, we might be able to get there,” the woman said. “At least here in Merka, we have the freedom to try. My child isn’t going to be oppressed by a one world socialist government.”
“He wouldn’t have to live there forever,” Henrik explained. “And he would be free to make his own choices…”
“Yeah, if he chooses to be a gay snowflake,” the woman shot back. “Look, his teacher wanted him to perform for you today, so I let him perform. But I’m not letting you take him anywhere. We’re still the best country in the world. I don’t care what anybody else says.”
The professor suspected that he was getting at least some of this hostility courtesy of his dark skin. The white Merkan natives always seemed to have an issue with that.
“That’s right.” An older man standing nearby nodded vigorously. Henrik couldn’t tell if he was a father or a grandfather. Most of his teeth were missing, his body bent from a lifetime of grueling labor. “That’s right. I thank God every day that I was lucky enough to be born in Merka.”
“Living in the rest of the world is not quite the nightmare you imagine it to be,” Henrik said. “We lead very normal lives.”
“Nope. Nice try, but you can’t fool us,” the woman said. “I listen to the Han Stannity show every day. Good man. He gives us all the information about what really goes on over there–how they tax you to death, how the only way you can get medical care is through the government…”
Her son stared at her, wide-eyed.
“We know the truth!” the woman finished triumphantly.
Henrik bowed to her and her son. “I suppose if you’ve found out the truth about us, there’s not much I can do to persuade you otherwise. I wish you all the best for your future, young man.” For a moment, his mask of politeness slipped. “With all due respect, though, Han Stannity is a complete moron.”
He turned and slowly walked away.
“You can go fuck yourself! You and your country!” He could hear the woman screaming after him. “We will bomb the shit out of you!”
That would have been a scary threat, Henrik thought. A scary threat…about fifty years or so ago.
Naomi was waiting for him, her face drawn, her hands folded together. “That was so disappointing, Henrik. I’ll have one of the event organizers speak to them.”
The professor waved his arms. “No, no, don’t. It’s not necessary.”
He sat down and went back to sipping his beer. Now that the woman was done screaming, she and her family began making their way to the World United food and medicine distribution point. There would also be doctors available there to give them free medical and dental exams.
He didn’t feel any anger as he watched these fiery warriors for liberty rushing to claim assistance from the institution they so hated. He realized their fist shaking fury was a symptom of their total powerlessness.
He smiled at Naomi across the table. “Please, don’t look so anxious, my dear. I have never lost faith in the value of our mission.”
“It just breaks my heart that a man like you, who only wants to help others, gets treated like this.”
This would be the perfect time to hop on his return flight back to Stockholm. In fact, it was way overdue. He was done with this place.
“Naomi, this isn’t all about me helping them. The truth is, these people help me. They help me find gratitude–gratitude for what we’ve got in the rest of the world.”
And as she waved a tearful goodbye to him and he climbed back up to his flying ship, he added to himself:
“Where else could I go to feel this superior?”
01/10/2018 at 6:33 pm
Great, great work here. I love it.
01/10/2018 at 7:09 pm
Ah, thank you 🙂
01/11/2018 at 5:36 am
Excellent. And most likely, sadly prescient.
01/11/2018 at 6:32 pm
Thank you. I hope this is not our future, but I fear it is.
01/16/2018 at 12:24 pm
Future??? Try present!
These guys used to only go to 3rd World Shit-holes to help desperate people with no access to healthcare….And they still do! About 10 years ago, they decided to bring their services to America. Since then, America represents almost 90% of their activity…even after Obamacare.
http://ramusa.org/
I suspect you know about this because the story is so similar. It’s even set in Virginia. Just switch the leader’s Swedish accent to a British one and it’s identical.
This is why it’s so challenging to write sci-fi/dystopian fiction these days. All you gotta do is stick your head outside to see worse.
01/16/2018 at 7:58 pm
I hate to sound like an ignoramus, but I actually haven’t heard of this organization at all! My story was mainly inspired by the United Nations report on the States which came out recently. I believe the UN Inspector who came out here may have been of Scandinavian descent, maybe not. Virginia was just a lucky coincidence…or, just an easy target for this kind of dystopian writing, as that party of the country, especially West Virginia, is desperately poor (and deep red Trumpland).
01/17/2018 at 12:46 pm
As I always say…”As long as you agree with me, you’re not a total ignoramus.”
But yeah. Your dystopian story was so much like the (little known) real thing, I thought you came across something about it and got inspired. Remote Area Medical (RAM) has free clinics that travel to many states, not just the Red ones. But they get terrifyingly HUGE turnouts in places like Tennessee & other southern/Appalachian states. I picked the Virginia example to emphasize my point.
And I’m sure there are also many “Trump Rally” similarities. Lefty elitists have to understand that it’s human nature to -when you’ve got nothing- cling to something familiar long after it’s stopped working, even if it’s downright hurting you…no matter how delusional it seems from the outside. It’s a form of “self-medication”. Some people call it The American Dream. To paraphrase the late-great George Carlin, “The problem with the American Dream is that you have to be unconscious to believe in it.” So, if somebody tells you they’re going to Make the American Dream Great Again…such folks are already 3/4 of the way to buying in…especially when Just Hoping for Change didn’t cut it. The real problem is in the Lefty Elite’s abysmal failure, if not complete disinterest, in making the dream remotely plausible for ordinary people. Cynical Hollywood sell-outs.
I consider R.A.M.’s conversion from exclusively servicing global “shit-holes” like Haiti to an outfit that now primarily delivers aid to invisible Americans as a great (unofficial) demarcation point declaring America a 3rd World nation. (Right up there with Florida 2000.) NAFTA & granting Most Favoured trade status to China (Thanks, Clinton!) pretty much guaranteed this day would come & here it is! And America’s reaction? Well….cut taxes, kill the inheritance tax and let the Oxy-fuelled dreams of the past roll!
Uh, where was I? Oh yeah. As I always say, “In this new millennium, every sci-fi nightmare/dystopian fiction has either come true, or will arrive at any minute.” Your story is a great example.
And speaking of sci-fi nightmares…How the FUCK did that simple link turn into a story preview??? It’s bad enough my links to videos almost always turn into embeded videos. Are my links to websites going to do that now? As if my posts need to get bigger & more messy.
Ah, fuck it. I should really self-medicate more. (Cue the only tangentially appropriate blast from the past.)
01/17/2018 at 7:55 pm
Sadly, you are correct about that transition to Third World status.
As far as that story preview, well, the Interwebz are here to tell you what you want to see…whether you really want to see it or not!
01/11/2018 at 5:37 am
Reblogged this on Praying for Eyebrowz and commented:
Great piece from eurobrat.wordpress.com. Sadly, I can see us heading in just this direction.
01/16/2018 at 11:47 am
“Where else could I feel so superior?”
This is the main reason the world still pays ANY attention to Merka. Canuckistan is particularly guilty of this. We obsessively -and exclusively- compare ourselves to you in order to feel good about ourselves. Sure, we don’t kill people as well as Merkans. However, we’re better in virtually every other way.
The problem comes in our exclusivity. Because we never compare ourselves to any civilized society, we could be the 2nd worst in CategoryX on the planet and have NO idea. Thus, we have no incentive to improve. We’ve been smugly coasting for decades now in a world that needs to vastly “up its game”…and fast!
Sure, Merka watching is fun and it certainly makes non-Merkans feel good about themselves. However, it’s actually really bad for us.
01/16/2018 at 7:51 pm
So, being Merka’s northern neighbor is basically spoiling you. You barely have to exert yourself! I can see how that would be the case.
01/17/2018 at 11:53 am
Living next-door to you folks is almost as bad as living in your highly dysfunctional frat-house. We see & hear everything you drunken idiots do. So, as long as we don’t wake up every morning on a couch on our front lawn with a hangover and an STD, we feel great about ourselves…and let everything slide.
As an example, our Medicare system is soooo much better than yours it’s laugh-till-you-cry-able. However, because we ONLY compare ourselves to you, we’ve neglected/underfunded/privatized/de-listed procedures and largely just let it sit there unimproved since the 60’s. (Repeat: We’ve had free Medicare-For-All since the 60’s. Chew on that, Bernie!) But because of our smugness, we STILL don’t have an accompanying drug plan…yet our drugs are still FAR cheaper. (He smugly says.)
In general, living next to America is a lot like living next-door to a biker gang. While these violent thugs roll about the city making/dumping bodies, selling drugs & generally creating mayhem…bike gangs (at least in Canuckistan) are pretty nice to their neighbours…provided they keep their mouths shut. Once in a while, they might politely “ask” if it’s “Okay that we traded you a few hubcaps we found for the millions of barrels of oil that was just sitting in your garage.” But on the up-side, they also occasionally offer you a “handy” from one of the strippers they own. Either way, you’re too intimidated to ever say “No.”
But pull up your pants, America! You’re dragging us all down with you! 🙂
01/17/2018 at 7:29 pm
Hey, this is Portland, so all we’ve got are bicycle gangs. They’re not that scary.
02/27/2018 at 1:51 pm
Hey, it’s time to get back to work, Brat! (No masterpiece required. Anything will do.)
02/27/2018 at 7:28 pm
Thank you for your support! I know, I know….it’s been kind of a crazy time. It probably won’t cheer you any to hear that I’ve been involved in local political activism in the meantime. Perhaps I should write a novella about the divisions in a local Democratic party chapter.
03/02/2018 at 12:47 pm
Or. you could just write some non-fiction (Wat dat?) updates about what the hell is going on.
You say that Democrats are….divided??? I am shocked, I tell you, shocked!
03/03/2018 at 7:26 pm
Yeah, you’ll be thrilled to know that we’re way to busy with the infighting and name calling to, oh I don’t know, focus on beating the Republicans in the midterms?
Sigh. Oh well. I’ll still be out tomorrow canvassing for a local candidate I like. There’s a lot of good stuff happening here on the local and state level–and maybe that’s always mattered the most, anyway.
03/04/2018 at 10:36 am
As I always say “Democrats can’t defeat anybody, except themselves.”
But good for you. You may want to describe the situation, if only for edumacational purposes…and to fill the gaps here. A “Campaign Diary”, perhaps?
I know Portlandia is a Democrat-lock, as is Oregano itself. (Wat? Democrats are capable of winning something?) But that’s national. I expect it’s a whole ‘nuther story, especially the further inland you get. I’m sure the State & local level is 100X more interesting and more important. And that makes your effort all the more worthwhile, even though you’re a I’m With Her type. 😉
I know you’re also -er- -um- “getting polled” by a member of the electorate now…but at least give us the odd Postcard From The Edge, eh?
Worst case: You bore us with valuable examples of internecine infighting and keep this place going.
Best Case: You get to vent while entertaining us with funny/frustrating personal anecdotes.
03/11/2018 at 11:49 am
Thanks for the encouragement. On the other hand, do you really want to read dispatches from an I’m With Her type bitching about the Bernie loyalists? 😉
For what it’s worth, I certainly haven’t given up on writing…I’m a contributor to our local Dem party newsletter now. Granted, volunteer profiles and blurbs about the latest fundraiser aren’t quite as thrilling as writing Trump parodies…so I’ll try to come back with a piece here soon 🙂
03/13/2018 at 10:45 am
“(D)o you really want to read dispatches from an I’m With Her type bitching about the Bernie loyalists?”
Yes, if only so I can tell you how wrong you are. Hahahaha (See: 2016 Election)
But not only is anything better than nothing, there are things to learn from even snippets of local political goings on. For example, The Oregano Democrats have newsletters??? No doubt, they’re delivered by bearded dudes on bicycles who have another knapsack full of weed deliveries. Hell, I’m Canadian but I’m still getting e-mails from Obama asking for 2008 Election donations.
To prove the universality of local stories you might share, I’ll share a recent Canuckistan example that will sound…pretty damn familiar…to a lot of Americans who have never even heard of the jurisdiction it comes from. (In another column, so as to have more space.)
03/14/2018 at 8:27 pm
I’ll tell you just how wrong you are — now there’s a way to encourage me to write more 😉
I wish the story about the bearded dudes on bicycles were true. Sadly, it’s just another e-mail newsletter.
Thank you for the Canadian political gossip! I enjoyed it.
03/13/2018 at 1:42 pm
If I told you a very experienced, blonde, female, centrist, candidate in her 60’s..who emphasized her maiden name… whose husband also ran twice for the same job…who had won more overall votes, but still lost….to a highly disliked, in-your-face, hard-right, populist, male, candidate…in an election so close that it wasn’t officially declared until the next day..and that the results were almost certainly compromised thanks to the “joys” of modern technology….What election am I talking about?
Wrong answer!!!
Last weekend in Canuckistan…The province of Ontario’s Progressive Conservatives (Yes, oxymoron.) held their 2nd party-leadership convention in 2-ish years. That’s because their leader, Patrick Brown, got embroiled in a sexual harassment scandal. A staff party at Spoiler Alert! “Hooligans” went back to his place, where the 35 year old leader supposedly kissed a 19 year old summer student…who for some reason returned to the same job the next summer. (There was a 2nd similar accusation that sounds less credible.) No police charges. Probably not even an investigation.The whole thing has a funny “coup smell” to it.
But in super-PC Canuckistan, that’s good enough to get you insta-fired even by Progressive Conservatives…4 months from an election they were going to cruise to victory in. Brown was kicked out of Caucus faster than a teenage boy “downloads” in a non-cyber sexual encounter. (Wat Dat?) As every fucking imbecile on the planet does these days, Brown went straight to Loserbook and slags the “slags” that have slagged him. Then he announces he’s running for his job again…and then drops out 10 days later, costing himself a hefty deposit.
A hastily organized election was arranged, Candidates included another trend, political dynasties. (See: Trudeau the 2nd) Former Canuck PM’s daughter, Caroline
BushMulroney also suffered from “low energy” and fizzled out. The main event was between the experienced, moderate woman in her 60’s (Christine Elliot) and the hard-right brother of the most globally famous mayor in Canadian history….Doug Ford…brother of the infamous Rob Ford. https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Rob_FordTogether they turned Toronto City Hall into a cage match, often getting in screaming matches with other councillors, audience members, reporters etc. Sometimes objects were thrown, threats of violence were exchanged and cops had to escort out dozens of people & council members alike. The Fords were always looking for a scrap; anybody, anywhere, over anything. (Hmm. Sounds familiar.)
For some idiotic reason, the Conservatives decided to change the tried & true Canadian leadership race formula. Actual local votes to select actual Delegates to go to an actual convention and actually vote for a leader, usually involving several rounds of voting, providing an oddly watchable political TV drama. Instead, they modelled their selection after US primaries, breaking the whole into smaller, “point-earning”, districts. https://www.thestar.com/news/queenspark/2018/03/10/how-the-tories-pick-their-leaders.html (Because how has that ever gone wrong???) Virtually NOBODY understands the process, not even the people running it. But unlike Primaries, they do it all at once…via the (Black) Magic of technology.
Yes, from what I understand the ONLY way you could vote was on-line. Because how could that ever possibly go wrong? Anyone over 14 who bought a membership for 10
Rubles, Bitcoin, Dog-e-coindollars could vote. Forget the gaping, lubed-up, asshole that is Internet “security”…the average PC member is over 65. Over 10% of those who paid $10 to register couldn’t figure out how to vote. This is beyond dysfunctional and the process just BEGS for Russian trolls to interfere.It also makes for coma-inducing TV. Even I didn’t watch it on Canada’s version of CSPAN. Apparently, it took them over 7 hours to announce the final result. And because the conventional hall was booked by a fashion show, they were forced to leave without declaring a final result. Balloons still affixed to ceiling. (Again, sounds kinda familiar.)
This is how Christine Elliot got HERself fucked. She got 51.74% of the overall votes, but only 49.38% of the Digital Delegates. She got more “Internet votes” than Ford, but her votes magically re-appeared in places where they didn’t belong and coincidentally didn’t produce the proper results. Some “discrepancies” were even discovered right on the spot, but were hastily declared “statistically insignificant”. (Hmm, sounds familiar.) But who knows how many misplaced votes might be found after the “proper investigation” Doug Ford has proposed. (Hmm)
So, while Ford won this dumpster-fire clusterfuck..all the “experts” are promising this unpalatable prick “Can never win the general election.” (Sounds familiar.) He’s up against the socialist NDP, lead by a woman, and the ruling Liberals (who are as stale as 10 year old pop left in a glass) whose leader is an open, married, lesbian.
Sorry to bore you to tears…but the elongated point was that there’s often a universality to small scale, regional, politics. “Everything is local.”
03/14/2018 at 8:31 pm
Rob Ford’s brother! Ah yes, I remember good old Rob…now that’s some nostalgia.
03/14/2018 at 8:32 pm
I should say, probably nostalgic about Rob Ford because I didn’t have to experience any of his “governance,” just got to watch his hijinks on the news.
03/21/2018 at 1:07 pm
Crap, my first response is either in your SPAM Bin, or drifted off into cyber space. Hopefully, this captures some of the spirit. If both wind up in your SPAM bin, pick your favourite.
Rob Ford Nostalgia? Jesus, he’s only been dead for 2 years! But yeah, the constant circus that was Toronto City Hall with the Ford Mafia in charge was almost as fun as it was terrifying. To be fair, they were good at the nuts & bolts of being Councillors..knowing the job, responding to every letter & phone call…and they were even on the right side of a couple issues (ie anti-Uber)
Here’s one of many “highlight” reels.
“I’ve got more than enough to eat at home”
However, like with Trump, beneath the clownery was some bad policy and constant sniffs of serious criminality that never got soused out because Rob Ford died first. Crack smoking, hanging out with criminal gangs, paying people to issue death threats and “envelopes of money in parking lots” shit.
This was just an average day at City Hall with Ford as Mayor….with brother Doug featured prominently. Besides the yelling, cursing & threats…you can also see how the audience is sharply divided between passionate supporters and detractors. Canadians only act this way act hockey games!
https://www.thestar.com/news/gta/2013/11/18/rob_ford_council_proposal_to_curb_mayors_power_moves_ahead.html
This style of politics is spreading. The clowns & thugs are taking over around the globe.