Tuesday, February 15, 2022

Writing the future... again... dang it.

People who have read my novels probably have noticed that I have the uncanny ability to predict the future.

Those who follow me on social media know that I’m not particularly happy about it.

The Pius Trilogy wasn’t all that bad. I mean, only some of it came true.

But geez, Saint Tommy drove me nuts. I wrote a particularly horrific circumstances, with demons and a cult motivating it and the circumstances around it… it becomes law.

I have a conclusion to a massive three-book conspiracy… then New York state codifies it.

I have an entire book centered around AntiFa minions acting as muscle, burning down entire cities, rioting, and generally carrying on cranky. THAT one I wrote in February of 2020, before the “summer of love” burned down a city or two for a few hundred days.

Hell! I have enough demonic politicians and scuzzy evil bastards that I’m still pissed off at the whole Qanon thing. (Demonic pedophile politicians? I killed those guys like three times!)

This got to the point where I said, screw it! I’ll use ripped from the headline stuff from years ago, and modify it. At least I can’t have these things come true, they already ARE sort of true. (Then freaking CNN producers started running pedophile rings! AYFKM? Thankfully, that book isn’t published yet.)

How do I do it, you ask? I reductio ad absurdum—I take everything out to their dumbest, most absurd end point. The point where no one, and I mean no one in their right mind would ever think about going. Then I have fun with it.

So of course, I have my plot elements become headline news.

Because there is nothing so freaking stupid that can’t become a political platform!

Why do I bring it up? Why isn’t there a post here on alien design and how I built a culture? You know, like I wanted? Why am I writing this post in the evening, far after I’ve usually shut down for the day?

In Politics Kills—which is literally releasing today—I had Earth under martial law. A tyrannical dictator locks down the planet and turns it into an armed camp. Anyone who disagrees gets arrested, thrown in jail, and disappeared.

So the night before the book releases, Justine Castreau in Canada declares emergency powers.

Really? Emergency powers? What? Did someone give this guy Attack of the Clones and he thought it sounded like a great idea?

Seriously, could the bastard son of Castro have waited five minutes? Maybe a day or two? Argh.

Right now, I’m hoping—really, truly, madly deeply hoping—that everyone looks at Justin Trudeau throwing a fit and goes “Really? AYFKM? Go have sex with a goose while the adults go talk with some truckers.”

There’s a saying among historians, and anyone who pays attention to history, is that history happens twice. The first time is a tragedy and the second time, it comes through as farce. And oh boy is this a farce. “Let’s break out emergency powers! Some truckers are parked in town, they’re honking, and they’re building shelters for the homeless and bringing in bouncy castles for children!”

I’m sorry, the level of stupid makes my brain hurt.

Anyway. I’m marking this piece, right here and now, so I can say “called it” at a later date. Just one of many stupid things that I called by complete accident. But nothing would please me better than to look back on this post and go “well, that was a wet firecracker.”

If I’m really lucky, it will have been misreported, no one is actually putting up with this crap, and this was all for nothing. I will have been pissed off by wasting my time, but frankly, I will prefer NOT having called this one in fiction.

For once.

Anyway, Politics Kills is out to day, please buy it, and let me know what you think.

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