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act, they still might come back as a slowly decomposing dismembered zombie.

The Prime President hated the genderless clones and cyborgs infiltrating all aspects of this new world; but he had learned to accept them as the sign of the future. Humanity had treated themselves so cheaply for so long; life was so cheap, and all societal models were having to pay the long-term price for years of inter-generational unequal socio-economic warfare.

However, the Prime President had also realised that he was also running out of real human voters. He would have to offer clones the vote at some point during his term of office merely to boots compulsory voting numbers. He moved awkwardly; he had recently purchased Eva Braun’s knickers to wear under his slick antique Savile Row suit. He had to air out his leather boxers, for publicity reasons, so he was in his kinky Frau Braun’s. He smirked to himself, as if laughing at a private in-joke. He had out-bid some desperate prole for them. The desperate menial supervisor wage slaver was willing to get into more debt just to afford them – it was unbelievable, but you know what people are like these days: always spending what they haven't got.

Another major democratic issue bothered him: How else can you promise to keep the world the same for the vested interests of the powerful and over-privileged few? There were no political divisions these days, just workers and masters. It was more like feudalism than communism. But the Prime President was up against an existential crisis: he desperately needed the illusion of a democratic mandate to merely maintain the illusion of individual and societal progression. What a pile of shit, he thought.

“The world’s fucked, isn’t it? Totally fucked. I fucking hate this world and I fucking love it,” lamented the Prime President. A tear rolled down his fat cheek. He looked almost confused as to why he had shed a tear at all. The world was not worth crying over anymore. It was what he could get out of it, that was all that mattered now.

The Prime President was expecting an increase in his campaign coffers from the usual private sources. All those vested interests that wanted favours – the usual connected nepotism and corporate back-slapping reigned on as the environment went to shit. He needed to convince these workers he could offer more security and greater pre-purchased life experiences instead of this constantly austere wage-slavery. But he did not want to change the model too much, even if the world was in the throes of a catastrophic environmental meltdown.

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Imprint

Text: Herb Skew
Images: Herb Skew
Cover: Herb Skew
Publication Date: 03-14-2018

All Rights Reserved

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