Time Travel Adventures Of Future Anarchists - Episode 7

Voluntarists from the future travel back in time to see perils of statism.

 Year:  2600
 

The people of earth live in a voluntary society.

Scene – At a history tourism center, people go in a time machine to witness history first hand.  The historical guide for the next tour is meeting a small group of tourists and prepping them for the journey.  They are in a large, vaulted atrium.    

Guide:  Welcome to the tour, everyone.  My name is Miles.  You’ve all chosen to see the banality of early 21st century slavery.  Any questions before we begin?

Rhythmic Rick:  Will we have music on the journey?
Miles:  We don’t really have time for that, as it’s quite a short trip, sorry.

Jovial Jovelle:  Short? I thought we were going back over 500 years.    
Miles:  Yes, well, I meant relatively speaking, it will seem short for us.

Creative Kat:  I wouldn’t mind some background music, actually.
Miles:  While I appreciate your suggestion, I suggest you leave it in the suggestion box after the tour.

Jovial Jovelle:  Hmmm, maybe some music from the time period!
Miles:  I believe you’re not comprehending what I’m saying.    

Creative Kat:  Yeah, maybe some Bach or something!
Rhythmic Rick:  Hello! Wrong century!

Creative Kat:  What are you, a musical historian?

Rhythmic Rick:  Actually, I am.  How about some gangster music?  That should pair nicely with what we’re about to see!

Miles:  Well, I must say, this is unorthodox, but I suppose if everyone wants to, we could have the computer play music for us only, while shielding it from those we’re observing.    

Jovial Jovelle:  Should be quite joyous!
Miles:  Ok, very well.

Miles gives voice command and control panel appears.  He punches some snazzy buttons.  Titanic double doors slide open.  The time machine, in the shape of a 48 foot tall iguana, is revealed.  All gasp.

Jovial Jovelle:  I’m not so fond of lizards. 

Miles:  Yes, I understand, but you realize it’s not a real lizard.  It’s completely synthetic.

Miles:  Ok, before we go, just a bit on the ground rules for our tour.  The ship will be cloaked the entire time, as will our bodies when we leave the ship.  Feel free to speak as much as you like among the locals as well, because our voices will be inaudible to them.  However, please refrain from touching anyone.  Any interference could cause irreparable damage to the fabric of space time.

The group piles into the iguana.  Miles punches in some commands on the holo-controls.  A kaleidoscope envelops them as they spin through the helix of time.  They end up in the year 2019, just outside of a grand concrete building with numerous archways.  The group steps out.

Creative Kat:  Beautiful building! Is it a church?
Miles:  A government building, so not far off.

Rhythmic Rick:  Did you just use a euphemism?
Miles:  Yes, excuse me.  When I say government, I mean mafia with fancy titles.    

Rhythmic Rick:  So how about that music?
Miles:  Ah, yes, very well.  Computer, play something fitting from this time era.    

The ship’s computer beams Kanye West’s “Gold Digger” directly into their ears.    

Jovial Jovelle:  Nice beat, but why is this fitting?

Miles:  Glad you asked.  We are at what was called a “Customs Office”.  Let’s go ahead and step inside so we can see violent repression of free trade in action, shall we?

They cross the street and enter one of the archways.  Inside, they find various smug, slothful, ignorant aggressors behind desks.  Ignorant victims are busy scurrying around, making paper copies, waiting in long lines, and looking impatiently at the time on their phones.  A man gets called up to one of the desks.

Miles:  Let’s watch this interaction.    

Ignorant Aggressor behind desk:  Papers, please.

Ignorant victim nervously hands over thick stack of papers.  Aggressor flips through and makes various smug noises.    

Ignorant Aggressor:  So you’re trying to import bananas?
Ignorant Victim:  That’s the idea.

Ignorant Aggressor:  Well, these papers are way out of order.  You haven’t paid your secondary importer’s permission tax yet.  Your photo isn’t the right size.  Do you know what three-by-five means?

Ignorant Victim (groveling):  OH, yes, of course.  How silly.    

Ignorant Aggressor:  And the stamp on your notarized copy of your health inspection is in the wrong location.  It should be top right corner, not bottom left.

Ignorant Victim:  Um, well, I’m sure you understand that I didn’t stamp it.  The health office notary did, so it’s not really my fault.    

Ignorant Aggressor:  Just doing my job! You’ll have to get a different stamp.
Ignorant Victim:  But I’m so short on time! Couldn’t you just make an exception, please?

Ignorant Aggressor:  Not my problem.  Oh, and it’ll be another 100 dollar re-filing fee the next time you come see me.  And we don’t accept cash.  Credit cards only.

Miles:  Now is the background music starting to make sense?
Creative Kat:  Far too much, unfortunately.

Jovial Jovelle:  How unjovial of them!
Rhythmic Rick:  Quite! And what was a dollar, exactly?

Miles:  It was a violence-backed fiat currency.    

Creative Kat:  So let me get this straight.  All of those people behind desks work for an extortion funded mafia called government.  And all the other people are asking for permission to move goods from one place to another.  And in order to get this permission, they have to spend tons of time, attention, and energy to obtain special pieces of paper and stamps.    

Miles:  Yes, that’s right.    
Jovial Jovelle:  And what would happen if they didn’t get permission and just moved the stuff anyway?

Miles:  Then they would get extorted, their stuff stolen, and possibly kidnapped and thrown in a cage.    
Rhythmic Rick:  And these people thought they were free?

Miles:  Yes, isn’t that darkly humorous? On top of all that, during this time period, there were many thousands of pages of documents called “free trade agreements”.    

Creative Kat vomits.    

Miles (frowning):  Oh, dear.  Are you ok?
Creative Kat:  Just too much nausea from slaves thinking they’re free.

Miles:  Yes, I understand.  Perhaps we’ll move on.  There’s frequency medicine for nausea in the ship, if you’d like.  This isn’t the first time this has happened.    

All nod.  They walk into the iguana’s shiny, metallic belly..  Creative Kat is soothed by anti-nausea frequencies.  The ship zips through the layers of time and they end up in the year 2020, in an enormous parking lot that is nearly empty.  They step out and start walking.

Rhythmic Rick (looking at Prius):  Wow, I love these antique transportation vehicles.  What were they called?
Miles:  Cars, and they used petrol as fuel.

All giggle at the primitiveness.   

Miles:  Now, if you see, there is a large building with absolutely no esthetically redeeming values very far in front of us.
Jovial Jovelle:  Yeah, what is it?   

Miles:  It’s a place called a retail store.  More specifically, stores like this were sometimes called “big box stores”.  The name of this one in particular is called “Wal-Mart”.  At this time, these stores were quickly becoming obsolete because of decentralized markets fueled by technology.  We’ll be going in to view some specifics on commerce of this era.

They walk over the enormous, nearly desolate asphalt plane.  As they near the store, a pigeon slams into Rhythmic Rick’s back.    

Rhythmic Rick:  Ouch! What the heck?
Miles:  Oh, dear.  A city chicken has struck you! Are you ok?

Rhythmic Rick (grasping at back):  Yeah, I guess…..

Flustered pigeon wobbles on ground.

Jovial Jovelle:  So um, about that fabric of space-time thing? Does this count?
Miles:  Technically, yes.  But it’s quite minor.

Creative Kat:  How will we know?
Miles:  Well, the general theory is that if we’re still here in 3 minutes, then it’s ok.

Creative Kat:  General theory? So much for the “exact science” of time travel, huh?
Jovial Jovelle:  Why 3?

Miles:  I don’t know, I’m not a time mechanics professor.  Now can we please continue?

They walk through the electronic sliding doors of a super wal-mart and start gawking around.

Rhythmic Rick:  Wow, look at the size of that pharmacy!
Miles:  Yes, there was no shortage of symptom and death management poison pills during this time.  How’s your back? 

Rhythmic Rick:  Kinda sore, but nothing I want to poison myself over.    
Miles:  Is there anything you’d like to poison yourself over?

Rhythmic Rick:  Good point.  No.  Oh, and can you put on more music?
Miles:  Certainly.  Computer, play something appropriate.

God’s Gonna Cut You Down by Johnny Cash starts playing.

Miles:  Let’s go over there, where the people are paying for their goods.    

They go next to a lady who has just finished ringing up a cart full of groceries and electronics.    

Miles:  Please turn your attention to the computer screen.  Do you see where it says “TAX”?

All nod.

Miles:  Does anyone know what a tax is?

Jovial Jovelle:  Extortion!
Creative Kat:  Slavery!

Miles:  Both correct!   

The woman hands the cashier a plastic card.

Miles:  She’s paying with something that was called a “credit card”.  It was a primitive electronic method to make payments.    

Rhythmic Rick:  She’s just going to pay without objecting to the extortion?

Miles:  Yep. Nobody here will object.  Or did, rather…..damn time paradoxes.  They really make grammar difficult....Anyway, this is why this particular tour is called “The Banality of Slavery”.  Slavery was built into everyday life so seamlessly, that people didn’t object to it.  Actually, they didn’t even know they were slaves.  They thought they were free!

Creative Kat:  How unspeakably hideous!
Jovial Jovelle:  Humanity sure has come a long way since then! Or now…..whatever.    

Miles:  Well, that concludes our tour.  Back to the iguana, everyone.    

They go back through the parking lot wasteland, into the time-warping iguana, and head back to their voluntary future.   

Thanks for your time and attention!

Just say "NO" to slavery! 

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