“Darker than Blue — This Mortal Coil”
THE YEAR IS 2030. Dark forces of change ascend from Hades and justice, and compassion are virtues that will soon belong to the past. The dream of dominance, terror and new world order shall appear. Democracy is said to have grown old and frail as it stands tragically at the brink of death with crutches stopping it from falling. A pest rages on the island of Atlantis.
In the Atlantic Ocean, before it disappeared, Atlantis was once situated West of Gibraltar’s Straits. A thousand years later it appeared between North and South America – sandwiched as a weak stepping-stone to either continent. San Pedro lies nearest. There are several islands in that part of the area known as El Dorado Straits.
The inhabitants are of different skin colour. Pink skin is the dominant colour on the island, which symbolises privilege, prestige and power, to name a few.
Es lebe der Satan chants a circle of noble, pink knights who hope, come late autumn, to set up autocracy with overwhelming victory at the ballot box. A lethal, anti-human pest descends in time to offer a helping hand to the noble, pink knights on the island’s most historical moment.
The crusade “death to democracy” is expected to receive the backing of trolls and pink sympathisers from all walks of life. Idealistic youths long for a tyrant-like leader. It is an emotional thing for them. They wish to be part of the new order where brains do not count, and equality is bullshit.
Some elderly folks turn a blind eye to past terrors orchestrated by iron-fist autocrats. Misguided earthlings of yellow, darker-than-blue, and brown take pride in being colour-blinded. Complaints are about the democratic system that delivers empty promises to the masses who are not deceived by political rhetoric.
“There’s no more sunshine in our mundane lives, no longer hope and glory,” wails a pink middle-aged woman with high rosy cheeks and black lipstick that accentuates her brunette hair that falls to her waist. She wears a navy blouse tucked into a black, leather skirt high enough to reveal her lace stockings, harmonised by her red, high-heeled shoes. Bitterness and despair were themes she whined about. She is not alone but the company of a well-dressed woman with arms that swing as if marching. Perhaps she was a friend or a relative, maybe her mother.
The talkative woman pipes up again with a tone full of desperation. “Is there any reason to vote? Democracy is over. Lost. But I will vote, We must! It’s important for the future, for freedom, for climate change.”
The older woman nods but remains silent, which suits her loquacious companion. The two women walk past a pink, homeless man who always sits on a national park bench.
This pink middle-aged man, his hair and bearded greying in parts and wrinkles beginning to emerge on his face, geared in a rumpled, ill-fitted suit, which may be second-hand. He seems to call out for anyone to engage in a conversation and holds cardboard with Bad Capitalism - acts of violence written on it. “Yes, many are at the societal bottom of the barrel, for we’re yet to master the art of treacherous, social class trajectory. The elite has it all, and the middle class gets most of the crumbs. And the common man, woman, youth, a child gets next to nothing. This country is democratic, though its twin brother is Capitalism. No wonder a change is on the horizon which knocks at the gates of freedom.”
In recent times many young, middle-class pinks have curiously become voracious readers of Rudolf’s Struggle (penned in prison) by a once infamous dictator. Mr Rudolf spoke a foreign tongue but is long dead and buried – and may the Good Lord bless his soul, in the parlance of Christians. Though strange, it may appear to social scientists, Rudolf is much glorified, and millions wish for his reincarnation.
Rudolf is known to have carried a sack of colossal dreams which were to reshape the entire world. As myth would have it, he is said to defy death miraculously. This god-like homo sapiens flees to hills or mountainous territory to save his neck. Then onto the wings of a superman to a life of voluntary exile, on some distant planet that remains unknown to astronomers.
Two of Nietzsche’s books The Will to Power and Beyond Good and Evil are about his moral views on human behaviour. With exceptions, Nietzsche appears to praise ‘what is evil and decrying what is good’ – according to an eminent colleague of his. Trolls devour these books and those earthlings who pride themselves of being critically minded and free from preconceptions. They admire the Spartan discipline, the capacity to endure and to inflict pain for essential ends. And last but not least the admiration for ‘strength of will above all’.
Whether trolls could be humans, the debate continues. But “there should be no doubt,” argues a yellow historian of much repute, “that trolls are homo sapiens.” This eminent scholar has in mind some liberal historians prone to label trolls as “aliens” on island Atlantis. That being said, trolls could be annoyingly dull: babbling on about pink superiority, claiming to be God’s Chosen Few; and more grandiosities.
Trolls are bent on becoming lords and masters over ordinary denizens of Atlantis: namely, darker-than-blue, brown, yellow, and impoverished pinks too.
A high-ranking troll has openly expressed the wish to reinstate “human bondage” for darker-than-blue citizens of Atlantis. The idea has even reached President DeeDee’s attention. The pink President declares he is not a troll and not interested in the suggestion. But, as if on second thought, it did not prevent the President from instructing his advisor for economic affairs to prepare a secret report on the feasibility of implementing bondage labour – a euphemism for hell on earth). According to political pundits, this might only be a conspiracy propagated by pink liberals, pink socialists, a way to obtain the darker-than-blue votes maybe.
Eugenics is popular once again. Such scientists pride themselves by judging earthlings on the “glorified spectrum” of colours, facial features, and IQ.
The panel of experts appointed by President DeeDee is still out about whether non-pink human beings should continue to be classified homo sapiens. And regarding when the report will appear is anyone’s guess.
It is still worth mentioning that ever since humankind ascended the evolutionary ladder — which dates back to thousands of years — preconceived notions about all colours, except for pink, became an in-thing for scapegoating. Social historians suggest the tendency resurfaced during the Enlightenment, in the late 17th and 18thcenturies. Other historians believe the propensity may have resurfaced with the advent of the North Atlantic Slavery.
People who are darker-than-blue, brown, and yellow were targets for discrimination, racial insults, and more, throughout human history. Still, with the emergence of North Atlantic Slavery, the tendency became absurd. Of course, it is not colour per se, as most historians argued, that “it had more to do with ancestral beliefs, myths and ideology”. However, pink skin would become a colour for non-pink folks to envy or admire. People of pink were geniuses in art and sciences and technologies. Briefly, pink people are superior in almost every way. Some darker-than-blue mothers and fathers became embarrassed by the question from their offspring: “Why are you not pink, mamma, papa? Why am I brown or nearly pink?”
A chorus or refrain echoes from beyond hills and mountains:
“We are the inheritors of Greek and Roman culture” by the pure beauty of skin colour, facial features and more. It had become the cry from trumpets of Superman-like trolls.