So, the future has some cool stuff. There’s UBI, and a shorter work week, and a restoration of some sense of hope and purpose. We can look in the mirror and say “the earth survives, and so do we.”
If you live on one of the Coasts you get access to all sorts of futuristic amenities like AI robot friend-servants, vending machines that dispense cooked-to-order meals, and functional public transport. If you don’t like the sound of that, then you can go to the Interior in search of your bucolic cottagecore dreams of starting a community and cultivating land in a Manor (also known as a Kowloon), as long as your dreams also involve meeting seasonal GLN (Global Logistics Network) production-per-hectare quotas.
If you don’t like either of those, then there’s the Eternal Frontier, a procedurally-generated fantasy VR world. It’s still in beta but it’s already more popular than Minecraft and opiates combined. It’s actually pretty cheap to get your own rig with a haptic suit, if you don’t mind the GLN technically owning your brain in perpetuity. Also, it doesn’t have sex yet, mostly thanks to the labyrinthine legal issues around AI consent and culpability, though there are persistent rumors of a sex-enabled Hardcore Mode available to a select few.
But if none of those sound appealing, there is, regrettably, a nihilistic mercenary death-cult you can join. It’s called the SYM (Surplus Young Men), it’s headquartered in Antarctica and full of blackpilled reprobates who do the GLN’s dirty work. And you might be thinking “that does sound kind of cool in a Warhammer 40K way,” but everyone involved is so lacking in aesthetic sensibility that it’s just unbearably corny. I mean, obviously the more important thing here is all the actual murders they do, but the fact that even paramilitary pseudo-states have a shitty brand just adds insult to injury. It’s like if Outer Heaven sold t-shirts.
Listen, there’s UBI so the future is good, okay? It’s good.
