Deus Vult! or, Not Tired of Winning Yet CLXXIII
Donald J Trump has been elevated to the purple by the prince-electors at Aachen, and coronated in Rome by the Pope, so that he is now Imperator of the Holy Roman Empire, and of the Empire of Man, Rex Quondam Rexque Futurum.
All Glory to God and to his anointed!
The Tribune Assembly of the Commoners in America, who retain a quaint custom of confirming the Electoral determination by local ballot, have also granted His Imperial Majesty the Mandate of the Commons.
Time Travelers have inquired of the Hierodules of Post-historic Futurity, who have returned from Realms of Tomorrow with this summary of prophesied events:
Outlawing abortion and contraception is good. Getting rid of the minimum wage will allow low-skilled workers to find jobs. Better. Locking up rioters and looters, best of all.
JD Vance will be Executive-for-Life, and Elon the first Transhuman Immortal of the Noosphere. So far, so good.
Purple haired girls will no longer be allowed to twirk and grind in public, as show in the first scene, and modest dress codes will be decreed by the National Census Office. No more tattoos nor face piercings. Sounds awesome.
Also, involuntary concubinage will ensure a reverse of the demographic decline, the return to the fertility levels needed to colonize Mars.
The warning from the future also shows the cities destroyed by Democrat management being slowly abandoned for the new and beautiful cities Trump will erect in the Western United State on what is now federal lands.
Not sure I see the downside here.
The Time Travelers said they had a great trouble finding our particular segment of the timeline, because the event of 80,000 Amish who came out to vote in Pennsylvania was deemed too unlikely. Men of the future thought this was a myth.
Actually, I suspect the Historical Institute of the Year 4000 AD was misled about the conditions of our time, the Pre-triplanetary Era. The strict Amish cyborgs of that year use no technology dated after the Two Hundred and Ninety-Ninth Century, but were largely unaware of how the Amish of the Twenty-First Century once lived. The legend lingered that paper-only ballot election rules for which the Second Space Age is famous were decreed because Amishmen were not allowed to use voting machines.
In any case, after this hopeful and welcome message was delivered, a single Time Traveler, masked and gloved against the mass of temporal-energy mass he had transcended, gray-faced and solemn with the sad wisdom of his order, plucked at the hem of my robe and whispered faintly to me: Thine era, albeit long dead, lives vividly for us the Day of Revenge for Pnut and Fred! In Ten Thousand Years, your children forget thee not, nor thy woes.
A sobering note amid the general rejoicing! Hard crusades are ahead, but the final victory is assured.
Let the salt tears flow from the eyes of the enemies as once the fountains of the seas broke forth in the Flood of Ducaleon.
For the Eloi deceived by the Morlocks who consume them, pity. For the Morlocks, justice.
Deus Vult !
Now I must relax and unwind by playing a video game:
About John C Wright
John C. Wright is a practicing philosopher, a retired attorney, newspaperman, and newspaper editor, and a published author of science fiction. Once a Houyhnhnm, he was expelled from the august ranks of purely rational beings when he fell in love; but retains an honorary title.
