mr x ruled the world.
most people thought he did a pretty good job.
you never heard anybody complain.
mr x got to the office every morning and decided what everybody in the world would wear next day.
and what they would they eat.
and what exercises they would do.
and whether they would run or walk, and how many miles, and in in which direction.
and what shows they would watch in the evening, after finishing their exercises and running or walking, and after they had finished digesting their final meal of the day, and taken their pills.
and when these things had been decided, mr x got down to serious business, controlling the weather, wind, and tides, and adjusting, if necessary, the plan for the world ecology for the next 100,000 years.
then a couple of unfortunate incidents occurred.
mr x was passing by the typing pool one day, after a visit to the roof observatory to see if the rain was falling properly, when he noticed millie harris, one of the typists. she was wearing a pink scarf.
that’s a nice scarf, millie, mr x observed.
oh, do you like it, mr x? millie exclaimed. here take it! give it to your wife, or one of your great-grandchildren.
oh, no, i couldn’t.
please, i insist!
mr x took the scarf. word quickly got around.
it began to be rumored than mr x was abusing his position for personal gain.
then the second incident occurred.
the tigers were playing the wildcats for the world championship. mr x was passing through the mail room.
johnny miller, one of the mail boys, asked mr x who he thought would win the championship.
mr x smiled, and replied that he did not gamble himself, but he had heard that the smart money was on the tigers.
the tigers won, and word quickly got around that the fix had been in.
cracks began to appear in the smooth surface of human society.
historians would long debate whether the cracks suddenly appeared, or had already been developing under the surface.
two opposing camps emerged. the parthians, or reds, who supported mr x and the existing order, and the scythians,or greens, who demanded sweeping change.
tribes and nations reappeared. families broke apart. brother turned against brother, sister against sister, children against parents and grandparents.
gangs and secret societies formed, then militias, then armies, navies, air forces, and missile sites..
*
here we are in front of the old world headquarters, where it all began in what now seems another millennia, although it was only a few years ago.
here comes a young man, wearing parthian red. good morning, would you mind answering a few questions?
go for it.
may i ask your name?
aaron adams.
aaron, you look just old enough to remember the old days, how do you like the new ones?
i fucking love it, man. i mean, this is great. life was so boring, every day you would say hi or hello to somebody, and they would say hi or hello back, how lame was that? now, if i see some some asshole wearing scythian green, i can get in his face, say, fuck you asshole, we are the future, we’re going to kick your ass, and if it’s a really nice day i actually kick his ass. i mean, this is the way it was meant to be.
thank you, aaron. and you, sir, you look like you want to say something. what’s your name.
bud bradley.
and what’s on your mind this morning, bud?
well, i just saw you talking to that parthian asshole, and i want to say that anything and everything he told you is a fucking lie, a total fabrication because the parthians are living in a brainwashed alternate hypocritical reality that has nothing to do with anything and will destroy the world.
and why do you think that is, bud?
power, man, it’s all about power. don’t let anybody tell you different. it’s about power and always has been.
thank you, bud. and you, young lady, what is your name?
doreen. doreen dudley.
and what do you think the problem is, doreen?
greed. just good old-fashioned greed. these scythians think they own the world.
what about mr x?
he should be put on trial and hanged. obviously.
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