Civil War 2: Snowflakes vs Bigots

The year was 2020. The crisp evening of a pale November endured an eerie silence as the world awaited to reveal its new king.

Resounding whispers echoed a prophetic lament for civilization: “War is upon you.”

In the preceding years, the tension between the left-wing and the right-wing intensified to the point to where it could no longer be contained.

“If you voted for Trump, you’re a Nazi, if you’re sympathetic to Trump, you’re Nazi, if you voted 3rd party then you’re a Nazi, if you’re a liberal who believes in free speech then you’re a Nazi, if you’re a Libertarian, you’re a Nazi.  If you’re not behind us, then you’re in front of us, and if you’re in front of us then you’re going to die.”  The words of an Antifa member.

The age of the freethinker had come to a sorrowful end; the renaissance had expired. The glory days of conversing and exchanging ideas in the marketplace of free expression were now behind us. The era of individualism wrought its ghost upon the chronicles of time.  You were either Team Left, or Team Right.

“These snowflakes and libtards are going down, you’re either with us, or against us. We’re going to make America great again!” One man said as he adjusted his Maga hat and grabbed his plastic shield. “It’s time for war!”

The year was 2021. In an effort to contain the bloodshed, rioting and war, the Government issued Martial Law. Hopes of restoring order had long diminished and the future of the nation appeared fleeting and intangible.

This Civil war was much different than the first Civil war. In the first war one side was fighting for independence while the other side was fighting for unification. In this war, both sides were fighting for secession.

“What happened to the tenets of liberty, the constitution, our American ideals?!” cried a man to both sides, who were poised in the rainy streets before the culmination of battle.  “What happened to the idea that we can have different ideas and still live harmoniously? What happened to…”

Before he could finish, he was shot dead in the street and the ominous words spoken enshrouded the night. “Those days are over.”

The year was 2022. Suffering a military Coup d’etat, the Government had lost a faction of its armed forces to those who decided to either join the efforts of the war upon the unexpected victories of the left (who were originally thought to be fragile snowflakes incapable of wielding firearms.) or simply refused to shoot down citizens in violation of the posse comitatus act.

What happened to the conservative, gun toting, Jesus-loving Christian men and women? Surely their combined forces would’ve expelled the leftists rather quickly and handsomely?

They never joined into the war. All those years the left thought they were all bigots and Nazis, they turned out to prove them wrong. They refused to take up arms in a vacuous, unjustified war.

What happened to the liberal, the atheist, the progressive thinking men and women of reason and logic? Surely they would confront the bigotry of “Team Right” and take up arms to save society from hatred?

They never joined into the war. All those years the right thought they were all standing in solidarity with the radical left, they were wrong. They refused to take up arms in a vacuous, unjustified war.

So who was in the war? Who were the catalyst behind the inevitable fall of the nation? Who were these people who were fighting? Who were these people who were making it impossible for the majority of the country to live their lives in peace?

They were a small fraction of both sides, the fringe, the extremists, they were those who were incapable of compromise, those bereft of reason and logic. They were the faulty caboose whose disproportionate momentum derailed the entire train of civilization.

The year was 2023. Unable to restore order, foreign entities saw an opportunity to gain footing in unstable territory. Many had fled the United States, many joined the war simply to see it end, and others survived how they could until it was over or until they were killed for being fence walkers or complacent.

The previous three years the war saw little intervention from outside parties. Since the occupation of territory by invading, impartial forces took rise, the United States called on NATO and United Nations to draft treaty and end the war.

A war, at this point, no one even remembered how it started or why they were fighting each other. They just knew they hated each other and weren’t going to stop until the other side was vanquished.

Eventually order would be restored and the nation made whole again. The people of this great land would have one thing to remember:

Never let extremists divide the Nation, ever again.

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Anti-Capitalist Accidentally Wins Lottery; Abandons Anarchy

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Mitchell just turned 18 and was ready to fight the system and smash the state. What better way to stick it to the man than to hop a gondola for a free ride to Ocala for the ‘Regional Rainbow Gathering’? he thought.

He planned to hitch a ride from a travel plaza in South Carolina to a train yard outside of Charleston, hop a gondola en route to Savanna then hop the hot shot to Jacksonville, meet up with his “comrades” there, then hitchhike towards Ocala National Forest.

It was a plan that would guarantee an exciting few weeks of drinking, debauchery and living wild and free.  Something happened, however, that he quite naturally did not anticipate…

While panhandling and asking for rides at the travel plaza (without  much luck) he noticed that the man who was playing keno in the rest area left a plastic bag behind; containing some scratch offs (already scratched off), and a few lottery tickets (live tickets.)

“What a dumb ass” he said to himself as he stuffed the lottery tickets into his pocket and went on about his day.

The next few weeks were as adventurous and fulfilling as he hoped they would be. As he was unpacking his gear back in his home in South Carolina, he came across the lottery tickets that he had forgotten all about that he stuffed down inside of his pack.

“Money is oppressive and capitalism sucks” he said. “Everything you need, you can just pluck it from the trees” he added. Just for ‘shits and giggles’, however, he decided to have the lottery tickets checked.

To his absolute amazement he held within his hand a winning lottery ticket that would soon award him an astonishing $100,000 (before taxes that is)

After collecting the money he thought the first order of anarcho-communist business was to throw a raging party for all his friends and buy a massive amount of beer and drugs. (cool move, homie)

Unfortunately, this wasn’t good enough for his collective. They wanted him to redistribute all of the funds back into the community.

He refused to give it up and was quickly ostracized by the same group he just fed $1200 worth of beer and cocaine to.

“I mean, maybe I should have given the money to the community, but I figured I could use that to go to college and get educated and fight the system from within, ya know?”

Heresy! the group thought, and they turned on him.

After feeling so much rejection from his peers, he decided that maybe anarcho-communism wasn’t right for him.

“I think I’m more of a minarchist anyway. Those guys suck”.

Moral of the story: money talks, bullshit walks 😉

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Antifa Protests Parents: Demand Allowance Increase

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Christopher simply had enough with his fascist parents hoarding 92% of their after-tax earnings, and he is now demanding an increase in his allowance.

“100$ a week is simply not enough to live on” Christopher told us. “They have all that money, why can’t they just give me more?”

Christopher’s fat cat, running-dog capitalist parents just don’t get it. They have no idea what it’s like to be young and rebellious. Absolutely none whatsoever.

Christopher’s numerous attempts at reasonable dialogue yielded no results. Peaceful negotiating of his allowance with his  parents was a hopeless impossibility… it was time for direct action.

“The time for talk is over” he exclaimed, “the time for action is now!”

Organizing a couple of his Antifa comrades; equipped with a fashionable anarcho-communist flag and stylish balaclavas, they were now prepared for the allowance revolution.  They would make sure Christopher got his raise, by any means necessary.

“Yeah, my Dad was so super mad about me smashing his windows, spray painting anarchy signs on the side of the house and lighting off fireworks on the front porch that he tried to ground me for a month and make me do chores to pay for the damage…”

*scoffs*

“I told him, ‘nice try pops, but I am ungovernable’.  What’s the cost of a few worthless windows weighed next to the oppression that I face every day anyhow?”

Christopher’s struggle continues; as his rapacious, unrelenting Nazi parents just wont budge on this very serious allowance issue. However, they were nice enough to provide him with play-dough and coloring books to help him through this difficult time.

 

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