Our story literally got underway some thirty years ago on one fine, spring day in the year 2020. Our hero, Professor Felix Schwartz, was walking with one of his underage students, feigning interest in their conversation, busy admiring her curves, preoccupied with not-so-nice introspection. Without warning, the last thing he recollected seeing was the front end of an oncoming ‘Mack truck’ then...then the lights went out.
For three decades our hero lived a life in complete bliss, void of any thought, unaware that the country was going through some major transitions around him. By the year 2050 his fraternity of buddies had long since left him, and moved to France to escape what had become the greatest liberal republic on earth.
The Ivy League faculty member was oblivious to his current living conditions, quality of the meals he ate, or the single garment the former professor wore. Nevertheless, as it turns out, Schwartz was in a great situation, one of the best places to be considering the state of this “New, Future America.”
In that thirty years our hero’s appearance had degenerated into something bordering on the comical, nothing like his undusted, venerable portrait hanging askew on one of the walls of the now-shuttered Butler Library of the now-shuttered Columbia University campus. The academic’s hair was unkempt, oily, long, stringy, and a mix of white and grey. The former “educator-indoctrinator” was no longer clean-shaven, but now sported something resembling a bird’s nest. It was bushy and doubled as a dust bunny broom on those nights when the overcrowded conditions forced him to snooze on the floor. The fashionable ascot the scholar was pictured wearing under a fashionable tweed jacket with elbow patches had been replaced by a less than fashionable doggy collar and something resembling an untied hospital gown. Instead of the bright, intelligent smile, the academician now often wore an imbecilic grin that showed off what remained of his yellowed, stained teeth. The nails of his hands and feet were long and un-manicured. The last time it rained was a week ago, consequently the academic smelled a lot like his sanitarium residence: a mixture of bleach, porridge, urine and schiessen all combined into one pungent, toxic, vile form of air pollution that accompanied the former guru wherever he went.
“Wait a minute, what is ‘schiessen?’”
Schiessen (pronounced shy-zuh) is Swiss for “shit” and is used throughout this book in speculation that it might someday become required reading, if not in American Literature classes, then abroad in studies on the rise and fall of the United States of America. Casual, or speed readers, those who skim through the pages not reading every important, carefully chosen and articulated word will likely not even notice the replacement, but obviously you...you must be one of those who eagerly devours every word, perhaps even reading the whole nine yards out loud. For you the exchange should come as a blessing...especially if there are youthful innocents around. So, now that I’ve addressed your question, let’s get back to the professor...
“Wait one more minute, why the Swiss version, why not use some other nationality’s word for shit?”
Cuz dear reader, the differing options: mierda (Spanish), schießen (German), cac (Irish), дерьмо (Russian), stront (Dutch), צואה (Hebrew), σκατά (Greek), dritt (Norwegian), et cetera, et cetera, just did not have the same kind of zing as schiessen...well, possibly “cac” (pronounced KAK, or KAHK) would also work, but the others...the others just didn’t have the same kind of zing to them, or they were simply incomprehensible for most who might pick up this book...so, can I move on?
“So, are you going to use ‘cac,’ too?”
I have to admit “cac” does have a kind of nice ring to it...valorous, undeviating, one syllable, and it even appears like it could double for several dissimilar four-letter pejoratives. “Cac” sounds like it could even be used out of context, conceivably even to throw off some of those speed readers who just don’t understand how many hours of toil and sweat go into a work of art like this. I must admit anything that might slow those people down would be completely justified. Sure, why not? “Cac” is in, and sure we will use it occasionally out of context.
Now let us return to our adventure...
“Okay, let’s go.”
To look at Professor Schwartz now, no one would have ever guessed this character had once been one of the “haves” among America’s highbrow, an Ivy League English professor with all the pins, ribbons and plaques attesting to his blue-blood pedigree...but of course that was then and this is now. The former scholar no longer looked like the spit-and-polish American aristocrat he had once been. Instead the former kingpin had the same undesirable appearance as every other inmate in the place, and appeared like a mindless, disheveled, vagabond who was barely clothed and so drugged up the man had little to no idea he was even breathing, let alone alive.
Over the course of three decades, Schwartz, like his compatriots, had been called many things, including just about every disparaging four-letter name the orderlies could dream up, given their limited education and vocabulary. There was, however, one thing that always stuck: the one common thread that followed the former academic no matter what institution he was in. That one thing was the faded number everyone could still see stenciled on the front of the gown he had been wearing for the past ten or twenty years: “No. 112.”
It was admittedly a shame none of the personnel, nor administrators knew anything about Patient No. 112; they had no clue that in 2050 America, the professor would be considered one of the “most educated” and possibly “brightest” inhabitants in the union...that was if the light upstairs were ever to come back on.
Why make such a bold statement? Cuz it was true! Patient No. 112 was educated, and by inference intelligent, right? He had not only graduated from elementary school, something ninety-five percent of the Americans could not now claim, the former English professor had also graduated from both middle school and high school! This bloke had gone on to college, not just for four years or six years, the professor had never left! By 2050, the professor’s PhD put him into extremely rarified air, one in 152 million to be exact. Sure the doctorate he held was in English and worthless outside academia; nevertheless, still his accomplishments represented something very unique in the country. If only Patient No. 112 could somehow wake up, the nation would learn of his smartness and historic role in helping put today’s ignorant, poverty-stricken masses up on top and in the driver’s seat!
Most Americans do not like to face the fact that if it were not for high-minded know-it-alls like Professor Schwartz, indoctrinating generation upon generation with their ideology under the guise of education, news, or the arts, today’s know-nothing masses may have never come to prominence, never reached the joy of joys they now enjoyed, and never have become the ones calling the shots!
The workers...no, the entire country owed personages like Patient No. 112 a debt of gratitude...gratefulness for the land they now called “home,” the republic they now called “theirs,” the country they had turned into something resembling the third-world countries from whence they had all come.
The point is, would Americans ever learn that this man, this English professor, was like one of their “founding parents,” like one of the original signatories of their highly revised U.S. Constitution...one of the twenty percent of Americans in 2020 calling themselves “liberals” who helped facilitate the metamorphosis today’s Americans needed to become the preponderance of voters?
Schwartz was one of those brilliant visionaries, someone who saw what the populace could become, one of a hundred-or-so of those exalted munificents to still live in America, who hadn’t moved overseas like the rest and were now enjoying the fruits of their clairvoyance; albeit, in the former professor’s case, unconsciously. Would the former English professor ever receive his just due? Would anyone ever find out how truly great and important this smelly white guy was? Only time and this rambling story will tell.
So, what had been Patient No.112’s role in changing America? How had the college academic, when he was a real, reasonin
g guru contributed to the cause of today’s masses? Suffice to say, this scholar was like most within the liberal enclaves of the time: the Democrat Party, academia, the media, the unions, the arts, law and entertainment: men, women and those in between who were convinced of the purpose of their cause even though the realities belied virtually every one of their representations. They were devotees who, when challenged, ‘would not’ because they ‘could not’ defend the realities that accompanied their positions, all that did not matter...no, it did not matter that the ends they sought went in opposition to reality. Why? Because these self-appointed demigods like this professor were above all that...all that minutiae. They were simply looking at the bigger picture, merely willing to overlook truth in the interest of following that imaginary “Yellow Brick Road” into their imaginary “World of Oz.”
How had people like the former university professor succeeded, one might ask? Well, for one, Schwartz was part of a clique of liberals who practiced ‘moronicism,’ a unique way of living, a philosophy of life that led to lifestyles beyond "foolish," or “dull," but more typified “stupidity,” or the painful lack of good judgment. Moronicism was more than mere ‘moronism’ for the sheer level of idiocy; the practice was beyond anything your typical moron could dream up. No, ‘moronicism’ only worked if one were a ‘moronicist’ meaning people who were accepted by and educated in the Ivory Halls of Academia. This invariably meant members of this club had to have money...lots of it, which translated into being from either an upper-middle to upper class family. Only with bona fide breeding and the proper education could someone become like the professor...someone who could use more confusing, haughty, flowery phraseology than necessary with the sole purpose of baffling any and everyone with their absurd theories and constant mental masturbation…and their strategy had worked. By 2050, largely everyone in America had accepted the moronocists’ version of reality. As a result, the republic was well beyond the point of no return and a prime example of a veritable, liberal paradise on earth.
So, the only question that remained was: now that these “leftist do-gooders” had succeeded, how were the American citizens enjoying their lives? How were they benefiting from the actions of the “wizards of smart?” What was life like in this so called, liberalized society? We will soon see through the eyes of our hero what the realm had become and just how good things had gotten.
Would the moronicist, Felix Schwartz, love his “New, Future America?” Would the English professor embrace the results of the enlightened experiment, or would he, like his brethren, flee to France...if the former aristocrat could?
…Again, only time would tell.
Current Times