Badtraum2020

I preferred Romain Gavras when he was depicting his muggers roaming Paris in Clockwork Orange style gangs like in the music video "Stress" by Justice.  Back then his vision seemed to be motivated by an outsider's malice for the French way of life, when being an enfant terrible meant that you had to trash everything white as "fascist" and pretend to yourself that Rich kids like Vincent Cassel and his rapper brother were real outlaws and not just underwear models for Giorgio Armani. Athena is a BLM fantasists fever dream where Far Right terrorists go to the trouble of dressing up as cops to group stomp a 13 year old boy half to death so his brothers can get free passes to burn down the shit hole banlieu they were spawned into. To the scorched earth! for Mon Frere! And if you get given an excuse to go on an anti white Jihad blaming an entire race for what a handful of wrong uns did to your brother,,,,it's justified,,,Naturally. The plot of this film...

The Russian scientists had originally designed the simulation to be affordable and dull, from their laboratory in New Zion. The master computers had been hooked up to self sustaining nuclear power reactors and fed with information from fifty years of internet life. That was three hundred years ago. All experiences since then had been artificially generated in the synth dish. An artificial world that was now just as real to the minds living within it as any organically formed continent. The original vision for this shared perception of reality had been mockingly called "Do housewives dream of electric Zuckerbergs?" In reference to the all conquering tedium of Facebook in the 21sr Century. No surprises! Well for two hundred close to three hundred years this had been the case: White lights held open the door to black lights as instructed. Anger became a crime in the synth colonies. Racism was punishable by unplugging or banishment. Death in other words. It wasn't...

The group of four moved slowly under the green moon. Desert shadows of night danced over the still hot sand. The four men had met at a prearranged rendezvous at a bar in New Bucharest. They had met online and shared a common obsession, the location of Zelenskys brain which was rumoured to be in the radioactive wasteland that was once Southern Ukraine or the city of Odessa to be exact. Before Putin had ended the war in 2030 with three medium power nuclear warheads fired from drones. Zelensky and his army of lookalikes, who were really clones, had been rounded up about six months before the bombs fell. The propaganda war had become so opaque by then that even little Z was kept in the dark by the rulers of New Zion as to what was taking place.  A so called hit squad from Wagner PMC in coordination with Putin and Netinyahu had caught the little hero minus his olive t shirt, miles from the action sat by a swimming pool by Lake Geneva in Switzerland. The Russian dogs of war h...

I went to sleep in stifling heat in front of three televisions blaring Spanish soap operas and a football match. Europop played techno refrains on my skin like some meat speaker vibrating sound. I was tied to a chair when I awoke. I could no longer hear anything but I could make out three or four savage youths with brown skin filming me on phones. I was the subject of some sadistic home movie and when the ugly fucker in the denim cut off jacket smiled at me, displaying a mouthful of dogends for teeth, I got a whiff of chorizo and cheap wine as he stuck the meat skewer through the meat of my right shoulder. I screamed and left this planet then for the last time. I came awake gasping for air in the fine dust of a planet that looked and smelled unfamiliar. This was the adjustment process as any memories I had left turned to ash. At first I remembered signing my life away to have my dying human consciousness uploaded into a mars rover on a future voyage to get out of prison. On...

After machines gained sentience around 2040 people talked about the singularity as if it was diamond rain. The final harvest of the Gods. Death would soon be eradicated and life would flow eternally. After the machines were set loose against flesh units at the end of the Russia/Ukraine War the success of the metal soldiers was decisive. Who it was that set them loose was undeclared. Many suspected in the ruins of the internet after the mass black outs that it was the World Economic Forum's final play to threaten and scare shitless the global population. It worked. People mimicked Al Quieda in the early 2000s and never used telecommunications when plotting any resistance against the globalists. They met up in person and prayed that any spies would be too slow in getting back information to the programmers of the seek and destroy drones before actions were carried out. The new world resembled a charnel ground of the twisted metal of destroyed cars and rotting human bodies...

To chance is to risk all. Gamblers play to lose and rollers of the cosmic dice stand by the roadside in the rain for three hours, waiting for a car to stop. Only to see Holy Sun come blazing out over Narbonne. As a red bus pulls up driven by a beautiful young woman called Autumn. Smoking rollups and talking in her native French like some Luc Besson Nikita grinding gears in the new post COVID world of France in 2022. She will call you on your bullshit and laugh if you chicken out on the adventure as the answer to getting scared in this staring contest with the Universe is,,,go further. Even if it feels like the grim reaper has crawled into your rucksack and is whispering for you to end it all. NO! Suicide is a life destroying illusion brought on by a profound tiredness of body and mind,,,and not knowing the rules of the game. If you hide away indoors like some bedsit recluse you will never meet a goddess of the highway. It's a nice idea that she might move in opposite yo...

Armed with the essentials: smart phone, bank card, earplugs, I have been living in international airports for about three weeks now. When you can get a connecting flight for less than ten Euros and you can sleep in the airport, get drinking water, use free toilets for washing, have WiFi and charge phones and power banks for free! Why spend eighty Euros for one night in some generic hotel room? It's tiring, true. Food prices in airports are obviously sky high (coughs and smirks) so learning to live on water, crisps, bread, salami bought from a supermarket in town, and the occasional rare overpriced coffee can be a survival course under the glaring perpetual lights and the loud speaker announcement monotony of airport camping. This isn't some Special Forces misery in the cold wild of Scotland with horizontal rain to contend with. No! This is the psychological torture of listening to Debbie from accounts going on her annual holiday to Magaluf talking about cock. Or its...