The nightmare future.

[tokugawa]

Earth is the playground for a essentially immortal group of elites. They are supported by a technocrat class who run the machines of production, and a praetorian guard who enforce the law on the few remaining little people who are allowed to live as menials and slaves.

 Most all agriculture, mining, industrial production is done by robots, as is most warfare.
 
 A constant worldwide physical and electronic surveillance system renders any attempt to revolt or achieve political mass useless, as any ringleaders are disposed of immediately.
 
 All the lower classes are implanted at birth with poison chips which can release a lethal dose into the blood stream with a remote command. They may buy and sell only with a issued card. They have no rights and are kept as servants, sex slaves, torture objects, and gladiators. Any elite may kill a slave at any time , with a blood payment to it's master.
 
 The air is filled with tiny nanodrones with DNA analyzers and micro teeth for poison transmittal.
 
 The miracle of medical science allows both organ renewal and immortality for the elites, and the genetic targeting of whole groups of people for extermination.

 The air is blue and clean, the water is pure, wildlife freely roams the planet as the shining cities and playgrounds of the psychopaths sparkle under the sunshine.
 
 It can't happen here.

 

[SADShooter]

Huh. An optimist.

[AZRedhawk44]

Myob!

http://www.abelard.org/e-f-russell.php

[tokugawa]

What is  MYOB? 

 Sorry for the optimism.  I won't let it happen again. 

[RevDisk]

What is  MYOB? 

 Sorry for the optimism.  I won't let it happen again. 

Mind your own business.

Cute story. It lacks any shade of plausibility because the soldiers would beat or shoot the folks. Gandhi's tactics only worked against folks that could be shamed into doing the right things, which is nice when you're dealing with the British in their fuzzy nature. Old school British would just stab the menfolk, rape the women, burn the buildings and steal anything not nailed down.

[AZRedhawk44]

Cute story. It lacks any shade of plausibility because the soldiers would beat or shoot the folks. Gandhi's tactics only worked against folks that could be shamed into doing the right things, which is nice when you're dealing with the British in their fuzzy nature. Old school British would just stab the menfolk, rape the women, burn the buildings and steal anything not nailed down.

I really liked the section where His Excellency and the Captain are discussing Space Regulations, what to do with the crew expecting shore leave, and hostile/non-hostile worlds.  How His Excellency wanted to compel the situation into being declared "hostile" despite the Regulations clearly showing it wasn't... and ultimately he wanted to toss the Regulations entirely (which was also against Regulations).

‘I have a good many old-timers in my crew. There are some among the troops as well. Space- lawyers, every one of them.’ He tapped the book significantly. ‘They know Space Regulations as well as I do. Sometimes I think they know too much.’

‘And so—?’

Grayder opened the book. ‘Regulation 127 says that on a hostile world the crew serves on a war-footing until back in free space. On a non-hostile world they serve on a peace-footing.’

‘What of it?’

‘Regulation 131A says that on a peace-footing the crew—with the exception of a minimum number required to keep the vessel’s services in trim—is entitled to liberty immediately after unloading cargo or within seventy-two Earth-hours of arrival, whichever period is the shorter.’ He glanced up. ‘By mid- day the men will be all set for land-leave and itching to go. There will be trouble if they are not allowed out.’

‘Oh, will there?’ The Ambassador smiled lopsidedly. ‘What if we declare this world to be hostile? That will pin their ears back, won’t it?’

Impassively consulting his book, Grayder said, ‘Regulation 148 says that a hostile world is defined as any planet that systematically opposes Terran citizens by force.’ He turned to the next page. ‘For the purpose of these regulations, force is defined as any course of action calculated to inflict physical injury, regardless of whether or not the said action succeeds in its intent.’

‘I don’t agree.’ The Ambassador frowned his strong disapproval. ‘A world can be psychologically hostile without resorting to force. We have an example right here. It can’t be called a friendly world.’

‘There are no friendly worlds within the meaning of Space Regulations,’ Grayder informed. ‘Every planet falls into one of two classifications: hostile or non-hostile.’ He tapped the bare leather cover. ‘It’s all in the book.’

‘We’d be prize fools to let a mere book order us around or allow the crew to boss us, either. Throw it out of the port. Stick it into the disintegrator. Get rid of it any way you like and forget it.’

‘Begging your pardon, Your Excellency, but I can’t do that.’ Grayder opened the tome at its beginning. ‘Basic regulations 1A, lB and lC include the following: whether in space or on land, a vessel’s personnel remain under direct command of its captain or his nominee who will be guided solely and at all times by Space Regulations and will be responsible only to the Space Committee situated on Terra. The same applies to all troops, officials and civilian passengers aboard a space-traversing vessel, whether said vessel is in flight or grounded, regardless of rank or authority they are subordinate to the captain or his nominee. A nominee is defined as a ship’s first, second or third officer performing the duties of a captain when the latter is incapacitated or absent.’

‘What all that rigmarole means is that you are king of your castle,’ remarked the Ambassador, none too pleased. ‘If we don’t like it we must get out of the ship.’

‘With the greatest respect, Your Excellency, I must agree that that is the position. I cannot help it—regulations are regulations. And the men know it!’ Grayder placed the book on the table, poked it away from him. ‘It’s highly likely that the men will wait until mid-day, pressing their pants, creaming their hair and generally prettying themselves up. They will then make approach to me in proper manner to which I cannot object. They will request the first mate to submit their leave roster for my approval.’ He gave a deep sigh. ‘The worst I could do would be to quibble about a few names and switch some of them around. But I cannot refuse leave to a full quota.’

If that isn't allegory to bureaucrats and entitlecritters fastidiously refusing to acknowledge Constitutional restrictions of power, then I don't know what is.  Frankly, it strikes me similar to our modern-day non-declarations of non-war.


I do like the story, though, simply because it points out that without voluntary compliance, all else is kidnapping, extortion or slavery.

[lee n. field]

Earth is the playground for a essentially immortal group of elites. They are supported by a technocrat class who run the machines of production, and a praetorian guard who enforce the law on the few remaining little people who are allowed to live as menials and slaves.

The Zardoz thing?



 

The miracle of medical science allows both organ renewal and immortality for the elites, and the genetic targeting of whole groups of people for extermination.

 The air is blue and clean, the water is pure, wildlife freely roams the planet as the shining cities and playgrounds of the psychopaths sparkle under the sunshine.
 

Been reading S. M. Sterling's Draka novels?

It can't happen here.

Tyrannies don't last.  But there's no guarantee you'll outlive it.

[tokugawa]

Actually, everything I wrote is just an extrapolation of the news articles I have been reading.

 Organ replacement and regeneration? Check.
 Longevity enhancement research? Check.
 constant unremitting surveillance? Check.
 Micro drones with dna analysis and micro tooth drug injectors? Check.
 radio controlled lethal brain implants? check.
 robotics? check.
 plan to reduce human population of earth? check.
 utterly unscrupulous amoral psychopath leaders? always have been, always will be around.