Flunky posted:

waaay too much effort for donald j trump to bother with

StratGoatCom posted:

Taintrunner posted:

Yeah, not happening. The reality is Biden's austerity regime will gently caress everything up even worse after The Long Winter, MAGA will be back with a vengeance and swamp the midterms, and by 2024 will have a constitutional convention as Trump 2.0 curbstomps whatever is left of the Democrats.

But hey, at least #Resistance Hero John Kasich got his time in the spotlight as he led the charge from Biden's cabinet to overturn Roe vs. Wade!

T-man posted:

who invited a lib to cspam gross

fool of sound posted:

Join CNN's Wolf Blitzer, live from the occupied Jersey Gardens outlet mall in Newark, New Jersey, which former and self-declared current president of the United States Donald J Trump and a heavily armed contingent of his most fervent supporters have converted into the seat of the former president's "government" in exile.

"Any real Americans who want to fight back against the communist Biden regime: we are running low on toilet paper and statins. Support us and help us return greatness to America." said Michael Nowicki, a spokesman for the Freedom Riders, an SPLC designated hate group turned presidential honor guard.

fool of sound posted:

Join CNN's Wolf Blitzer, live from the occupied Jersey Gardens outlet mall in Newark, New Jersey, which former and self-declared current president of the United States Donald J Trump and a heavily armed contingent of his most fervent supporters have converted into the seat of the former president's "government" in exile.

"Any real Americans who want to fight back against the communist Biden regime: we are running low on toilet paper and statins. Support us and help us return greatness to America." said Michael Nowicki, a spokesman for the Freedom Riders, an SPLC designated hate group turned presidential honor guard.

Fallen Hamprince posted:

actually trump is good because liberals do not like him

really queer Christmas posted:

StratGoatCom posted:

StratGoatCom posted:

StratGoatCom posted:

Taintrunner posted:

Taintrunner posted:

Taintrunner posted:

Sad Billionaire posted:

hey you're that pokemon that probed me for saying joe biden raped tara reade

Nichael posted:

you're a good writer. real shame it's probably prophetic.

Taintrunner posted:

It’s the autumn of 2026. Joe Biden is somehow still President of the United States, but nobody has seen him in public for the past two and a half years. Conspiracy theorists online believe he died some time ago and has been replaced with a deepfake algorithm, delivering nothing but empty pablums and promises of further means tested “incrementalism.”

You’re currently eating baked beans out of a can in a dilapidated shack that you share, in a shanty town that rests on the outskirts of a major Amazon Fulfillment Center, somewhere in the wastes of the Midwest. The economy never recovered after the Corona pandemic, you see, and your years of struggling to make a career in media never amounted to anything — there’s no real jobs left anymore, for anyone. Instead, the “gig economy” has nothing but expanded to dominate every aspect of the lives of the majority of Americans, forced to slave away for the benefit of the minority of the upper-middle class.



Baked in the glow of some indistinguishable Twitch streamer playing the 2003 classic Freedom Fighters, you wonder what life could have been. Now, you have nothing but a zero-hour contract packing and shipping cheap dildos and off-brand gaming peripherals. You don’t live alone, however — due to the lack of any sort of affordable housing, your sister moved in with you. It’s not a great situation, but family is family, even if her needs are driving you crazy.

Your sister kicks you out for the evening — she’s got a deadline to deliver another “Set” to her OnlyFans subscribers, and she needs the limited real estate to herself. Truth is, she had a good degree from a good school and a promising career as well — but the pandemic was the great gust of wind that exposed the plan of the wealthy all along — destroy more actual jobs, force workers to do more for less money, and leave the stragglers to be forgotten in the wastes of the “sharing economy.” She didn’t want to become a sex worker, but that’s one of the only semi-stable streams of income left anymore — so now she gets to “be her own boss” and pimp herself out to slimy, neckbearded computer touchers designing one of the fifteen different food delivery apps for the upper middle class corporate drones.

Grunting, you shotgun the rest of the baked beans and throw on your coat. There’s a improvised bar down the “block” — the disorganized mess of what some jokingly refer to as “Bezovilles 2.0, Brought to You By Bezos” is a labyrinth of tin and cardboard. Traversing through it and trying to not get lost feels like you’re already waist deep in the River Styx, but this is the new normal now.

Some of the older generations used to pack up in RVs and convert vans into living quarters, then wander around the country as “Seasonal Workers” for Bezos’ fortune. You’ve never had the money for any of that, and Amazon was the only job you could find, so now you’re stuck out here in the wastes. Bezos was kind enough to buy up the land adjacent to Amazon’s fulfillment centers and allow the displaced to plop down some improvised housing, only because there’s literally no housing left — it’s nothing but “investment properties” that sit empty, looming over the downtrodden on the streets with their many empty, right angled eyes. So you got to spend your Amazon branded company scrip on duct-tape and leftover cardboard from returns to improvise some sort of housing. Not to mention Landlord Jeff takes an extra cut out of your paycheck at the end of the month for squatting on his property.

It’s not much, but its “yours.” Some handy folks improvised running electricity lines in and out of the various hovels, leeching off of the warehouse, which now hums and bellows along all 24 hours of the day, trucks pulling in and out, in what resembles a bio-mechanical ant colony more than it does any sort of human infrastructure. Now you and your sister can enjoy all the entertainment available on your dated Android smartphone’s social media, laughing at all your “influencers” favorite jokes, and ridiculing strangers that you’ll never meet.



Just yesterday you stumbled onto a photo gallery of the late New Orleans. You dreamed about getting to go there one day when you were younger. When Joe Biden got an “F” on his climate policy by the Sunrise Movement, nobody bothered to consider what that really meant. Nobody could have predicted how hard the hurricanes hit, but they were like nothing we’d ever seen before. It made Katrina look like a mild drizzle. The entire French Quarter was submerged, and hundreds of thousands of people had to flee for their lives, for the city they’d called home had become uninhabitable. Florida got wiped out as well.

Now millions of Americans had become climate migrants in their own country — but there was no solidarity to be found amongst their fellow countrymen. Many of the poor survivors of color were met with hostility and abuse from their new communities of mostly white neighbors. The flood insurance policies these unlucky souls bought and paid into for years were owned by financial crooks who decided they would simply refuse to pay out damages, maximizing their profits for the quarter. The Great Divide has now become an ocean that stretches farther than the Atlantic, a distance so drastic that when people look across the sea, they think if they sail too far they’ll go right off the edge and into infinity.



President Biden promised a relief package, but after months of fighting with a Republican supermajority every American got…oh, maybe $600 of “stimulus” while the major corporations got many trillions more of taxpayer money, all so they wouldn’t have to post a loss in their quarterly reports. “Number Must Go Up,” insisted the financial pundits on cable news, “No Matter The Cost.” Now most Americans can’t even rent an apartment anymore, much less afford the individual mandate requirement to buy health insurance. The government is now directly subsidizing food suppliers in order to supply food banks, all in the hope of preventing a full-on violent revolt.

You sigh as you reflect on the exponentially mounting deaths of despair, opening the bar’s improvised excuse for a door made out of tin. The birthrate’s plummeted. You can’t even remember the last time you went on a date. Are things ever going to get better? Probably not. But at least it will be exciting, right? At least, that’s what you tell yourself as you stare into the bottom of your poo poo-tier tequila glass. You get a notification on your phone — Bezos was gracious enough to give you another shift tomorrow. You remember to scrounge for a bottle to piss in on the way home, since there’s no bathroom breaks when the richest man in the world dominates your life for his own profit.



You have a look around the bar — it’s a pretty diverse group of people, actually — all grinded into loving dust as the subhuman labor caste of society. Some are climate migrants from other countries, fleeing warzones flooded with American-made bombs and American-made guns President Biden was more than happy to supply some “moderate rebels” with. Some are climate migrants fleeing their homes in their own country. Some were bankrupted by the economic devastation of the pandemic. Some were just unlucky enough to not be born to a wealthy family. Nobody’s smiling, barely a laugh to be had. The gloom is more intoxicating than the liquor.

Another glass to try and numb the feeling away.

And another.

You talk to noone. Talking to other people is scary now — you might grow attached to them, you might start to care from them, and before you know it they’re just another “death of despair.” Suicide, drug overdose, who knows what. The emotional weight is simply too much to risk bearing.

By the time your anxiety about what’s to come begins to fade in the murkiness of the tequila, you get a text. Your sister wrapped up and you can come back to sleep, finally.

You stumble out the door into the dark alleyway, lighting up a cigarette. You can’t remember the last time you saw the stars, thanks to the pollution. When you were younger you aspired to travel among them one day. Now you pray humanity never makes it off this cursed rock, so they can’t destroy the beauty of the infinite that gazes back into your dead, bag-ridden eyes.



Suddenly you hear the roar of trucks, the crack of small arms fire, and screams. You see, as the wealthy liberal establishment got everything they wanted with Joe Biden, they offered no alternative to the lies of white nationalism which have proceeded to spiral out of control in the wake of the climate migrant crisis. Now these “Bezosvilles” are regularly preyed upon by roving packs of militant fascists looking to terrorize and slaughter the most vulnerable among us.

You try to run for cover, but before your legs can pick up speed, you’re struck by the front end of a Ford F-250, smeared across the hood and rolled helplessly onto the mud. Dazed and bleeding from your skull, you look across to the dilapidated bar as fascist freaks pour out of the truckbed and start slaughtering the innocent laborers trapped within. You have no idea how things got this bad, and you already know this won’t even make the primetime news — this is the new normal now. Or it least, it has been for a couple of years now.

The truth is that the Biden Presidency was never about a return to norms, much less realizing a vision of a better future — it was about managed decline, as the climate apocalypse is locked in and begins to dismantle the standards of living people used to take for granted under what Fukuyama declared as “The End of History.” What people never understood was that America had a second secession from the union — the wealthy built themselves a whole separate nation atop the misery and the agony of the working poor, an inverse pyramid drilling into the back of the worker.



Climate change was simply the gust of wind that accelerated the screw, having broken skin and now digging into bare flesh. Whatever outcomes the majority of the country, now nothing more than a subhuman labor caste, would never be shared by their wealthy landlords, employers, and creditors. They would retreat to their yachts, their bunkers, and live life with every luxury they enjoyed before the crisis. You would get nothing.

As your consciousness begins to slip away, you pray your sister won’t be bankrupted by the medical bills. The uncertainty hurts a hell of a lot more than the broken ribs. But this is life in America now, and you’re just another forgotten soul. You wonder if your sister could set up a GoFundMe in time, before you realize that nobody has any money to donate to medical crowdfunding anymore.

Ah well. This was the existential threat all those “Vote Blue No Matter Who” #Resistance types on Twitter told you that electing Joe Biden would put an end to. I guess they were wrong after all. But they were so sure of themselves, how could they have been mistaken?

Taintrunner posted:

a zero-hour contract

Taintrunner posted:

It’s the autumn of 2026. Joe Biden is somehow still President of the United States, but nobody has seen him in public for the past two and a half years. Conspiracy theorists online believe he died some time ago and has been replaced with a deepfake algorithm, delivering nothing but empty pablums and promises of further means tested “incrementalism.”

You’re currently eating baked beans out of a can in a dilapidated shack that you share, in a shanty town that rests on the outskirts of a major Amazon Fulfillment Center, somewhere in the wastes of the Midwest. The economy never recovered after the Corona pandemic, you see, and your years of struggling to make a career in media never amounted to anything — there’s no real jobs left anymore, for anyone. Instead, the “gig economy” has nothing but expanded to dominate every aspect of the lives of the majority of Americans, forced to slave away for the benefit of the minority of the upper-middle class.



Baked in the glow of some indistinguishable Twitch streamer playing the 2003 classic Freedom Fighters, you wonder what life could have been. Now, you have nothing but a zero-hour contract packing and shipping cheap dildos and off-brand gaming peripherals. You don’t live alone, however — due to the lack of any sort of affordable housing, your sister moved in with you. It’s not a great situation, but family is family, even if her needs are driving you crazy.

Your sister kicks you out for the evening — she’s got a deadline to deliver another “Set” to her OnlyFans subscribers, and she needs the limited real estate to herself. Truth is, she had a good degree from a good school and a promising career as well — but the pandemic was the great gust of wind that exposed the plan of the wealthy all along — destroy more actual jobs, force workers to do more for less money, and leave the stragglers to be forgotten in the wastes of the “sharing economy.” She didn’t want to become a sex worker, but that’s one of the only semi-stable streams of income left anymore — so now she gets to “be her own boss” and pimp herself out to slimy, neckbearded computer touchers designing one of the fifteen different food delivery apps for the upper middle class corporate drones.

Grunting, you shotgun the rest of the baked beans and throw on your coat. There’s a improvised bar down the “block” — the disorganized mess of what some jokingly refer to as “Bezovilles 2.0, Brought to You By Bezos” is a labyrinth of tin and cardboard. Traversing through it and trying to not get lost feels like you’re already waist deep in the River Styx, but this is the new normal now.

Some of the older generations used to pack up in RVs and convert vans into living quarters, then wander around the country as “Seasonal Workers” for Bezos’ fortune. You’ve never had the money for any of that, and Amazon was the only job you could find, so now you’re stuck out here in the wastes. Bezos was kind enough to buy up the land adjacent to Amazon’s fulfillment centers and allow the displaced to plop down some improvised housing, only because there’s literally no housing left — it’s nothing but “investment properties” that sit empty, looming over the downtrodden on the streets with their many empty, right angled eyes. So you got to spend your Amazon branded company scrip on duct-tape and leftover cardboard from returns to improvise some sort of housing. Not to mention Landlord Jeff takes an extra cut out of your paycheck at the end of the month for squatting on his property.

It’s not much, but its “yours.” Some handy folks improvised running electricity lines in and out of the various hovels, leeching off of the warehouse, which now hums and bellows along all 24 hours of the day, trucks pulling in and out, in what resembles a bio-mechanical ant colony more than it does any sort of human infrastructure. Now you and your sister can enjoy all the entertainment available on your dated Android smartphone’s social media, laughing at all your “influencers” favorite jokes, and ridiculing strangers that you’ll never meet.



Just yesterday you stumbled onto a photo gallery of the late New Orleans. You dreamed about getting to go there one day when you were younger. When Joe Biden got an “F” on his climate policy by the Sunrise Movement, nobody bothered to consider what that really meant. Nobody could have predicted how hard the hurricanes hit, but they were like nothing we’d ever seen before. It made Katrina look like a mild drizzle. The entire French Quarter was submerged, and hundreds of thousands of people had to flee for their lives, for the city they’d called home had become uninhabitable. Florida got wiped out as well.

Now millions of Americans had become climate migrants in their own country — but there was no solidarity to be found amongst their fellow countrymen. Many of the poor survivors of color were met with hostility and abuse from their new communities of mostly white neighbors. The flood insurance policies these unlucky souls bought and paid into for years were owned by financial crooks who decided they would simply refuse to pay out damages, maximizing their profits for the quarter. The Great Divide has now become an ocean that stretches farther than the Atlantic, a distance so drastic that when people look across the sea, they think if they sail too far they’ll go right off the edge and into infinity.



President Biden promised a relief package, but after months of fighting with a Republican supermajority every American got…oh, maybe $600 of “stimulus” while the major corporations got many trillions more of taxpayer money, all so they wouldn’t have to post a loss in their quarterly reports. “Number Must Go Up,” insisted the financial pundits on cable news, “No Matter The Cost.” Now most Americans can’t even rent an apartment anymore, much less afford the individual mandate requirement to buy health insurance. The government is now directly subsidizing food suppliers in order to supply food banks, all in the hope of preventing a full-on violent revolt.

You sigh as you reflect on the exponentially mounting deaths of despair, opening the bar’s improvised excuse for a door made out of tin. The birthrate’s plummeted. You can’t even remember the last time you went on a date. Are things ever going to get better? Probably not. But at least it will be exciting, right? At least, that’s what you tell yourself as you stare into the bottom of your poo poo-tier tequila glass. You get a notification on your phone — Bezos was gracious enough to give you another shift tomorrow. You remember to scrounge for a bottle to piss in on the way home, since there’s no bathroom breaks when the richest man in the world dominates your life for his own profit.



You have a look around the bar — it’s a pretty diverse group of people, actually — all grinded into loving dust as the subhuman labor caste of society. Some are climate migrants from other countries, fleeing warzones flooded with American-made bombs and American-made guns President Biden was more than happy to supply some “moderate rebels” with. Some are climate migrants fleeing their homes in their own country. Some were bankrupted by the economic devastation of the pandemic. Some were just unlucky enough to not be born to a wealthy family. Nobody’s smiling, barely a laugh to be had. The gloom is more intoxicating than the liquor.

Another glass to try and numb the feeling away.

And another.

You talk to noone. Talking to other people is scary now — you might grow attached to them, you might start to care from them, and before you know it they’re just another “death of despair.” Suicide, drug overdose, who knows what. The emotional weight is simply too much to risk bearing.

By the time your anxiety about what’s to come begins to fade in the murkiness of the tequila, you get a text. Your sister wrapped up and you can come back to sleep, finally.

You stumble out the door into the dark alleyway, lighting up a cigarette. You can’t remember the last time you saw the stars, thanks to the pollution. When you were younger you aspired to travel among them one day. Now you pray humanity never makes it off this cursed rock, so they can’t destroy the beauty of the infinite that gazes back into your dead, bag-ridden eyes.



Suddenly you hear the roar of trucks, the crack of small arms fire, and screams. You see, as the wealthy liberal establishment got everything they wanted with Joe Biden, they offered no alternative to the lies of white nationalism which have proceeded to spiral out of control in the wake of the climate migrant crisis. Now these “Bezosvilles” are regularly preyed upon by roving packs of militant fascists looking to terrorize and slaughter the most vulnerable among us.

You try to run for cover, but before your legs can pick up speed, you’re struck by the front end of a Ford F-250, smeared across the hood and rolled helplessly onto the mud. Dazed and bleeding from your skull, you look across to the dilapidated bar as fascist freaks pour out of the truckbed and start slaughtering the innocent laborers trapped within. You have no idea how things got this bad, and you already know this won’t even make the primetime news — this is the new normal now. Or it least, it has been for a couple of years now.

The truth is that the Biden Presidency was never about a return to norms, much less realizing a vision of a better future — it was about managed decline, as the climate apocalypse is locked in and begins to dismantle the standards of living people used to take for granted under what Fukuyama declared as “The End of History.” What people never understood was that America had a second secession from the union — the wealthy built themselves a whole separate nation atop the misery and the agony of the working poor, an inverse pyramid drilling into the back of the worker.



Climate change was simply the gust of wind that accelerated the screw, having broken skin and now digging into bare flesh. Whatever outcomes the majority of the country, now nothing more than a subhuman labor caste, would never be shared by their wealthy landlords, employers, and creditors. They would retreat to their yachts, their bunkers, and live life with every luxury they enjoyed before the crisis. You would get nothing.

As your consciousness begins to slip away, you pray your sister won’t be bankrupted by the medical bills. The uncertainty hurts a hell of a lot more than the broken ribs. But this is life in America now, and you’re just another forgotten soul. You wonder if your sister could set up a GoFundMe in time, before you realize that nobody has any money to donate to medical crowdfunding anymore.

Ah well. This was the existential threat all those “Vote Blue No Matter Who” #Resistance types on Twitter told you that electing Joe Biden would put an end to. I guess they were wrong after all. But they were so sure of themselves, how could they have been mistaken?

Taintrunner posted:

Grunting, you shotgun the rest of the baked beans