Alexander Gordon Jahans
I’m having naps. I don’t have naps, not normally. My body is a juggernaut that keeps dragging me on normally. Trump, Brexit, feminists friends turning against me, father at my door, it wouldn’t matter. My body kept me up even as I howled and begged for the sweet embrace of death or sleep. That is my normality. That is where I am best.
I am the regulated capitalist, the angsty smut fiction writer and successful failure on youtube. I scream and I shout and I rail against the world and I keep on. That is how I work best, that is how I am at my best. A flawed troubled trainwreck driven by lust, greed, jealousy and rage. Everything I have, every scrape of success I have earned was earned in that tumult, in that storm of agony and unfulfilled desires. My tears were my fuel but there are no tears now.
Britain is headed kicking and screaming towards economic suicide because a bunch of morons, bigots and protesters were too dim to see the consequences their votes would cause. If you were worried about a getting a job because of immigrants just wait until the full effects of leaving the single market hit and millions of job leave oversees, deciding to cut out the middleman and leave you with nothing. If you were worried about sovereignty, just wait until Britain is begging for scraps just to get by and being shafted by everyone it does business with. If you were worried about TTIP just wait until Theresa May is handing Donald Trump the NHS and all the nightmare clauses on a platter because we have nowhere else to go.
America has elected an even stupider version of Hitler and the revolution is already underway because it is going so bad so very very fucking fast. The Dakota oil pipeline is going ahead as the anti-immigrant Donald trump screws over native Americans for money from Canada and France. The great wall of Trump is not only getting to be paid for by the American people but it is going to be paid for with taxes on the American people importing stuff from Mexico. What better way to discourage smuggling into America from Mexico than to make it more financially worthwhile to do so. All the bravado about “draining the swamp” of corporate lobbyists has been shown as the pandering bullshit it always was as Trump hires biased moron after biased moron to fuck up jobs they really shouldn’t be doing. And this is just the stuff Trump supporters might wish to rage about, nevermind the numerous fucking instances of him being a moronic fascist out of a dystopian novel.
Yet I sleep so very soundly. So very fucking soundly. For a man haunted by sharks and fears of feminist outrage sleep now greets me like an old friend. Even as I write this, a litre of diet coke having passed my lips in a few short hours, I can feel sleep embracing me and whispering sweet nothings in my ear. The nightmares I have don’t bother me anymore. They can’t. Reality is worse.
I dream about nazis and trolls stalking me back at university, about the forbidden eighth eldergod in the pantheon of the seven. Black Adam. Black Adam the spirit of fascism, misogyny and sadism, a stalking mocking presence. So young and virile and sadistic. A hateful mockery of the worst aspects of humanity as a demon that crops up from time to time guiding humanity towards its dark desires. Oh how I want Black Adam to be real. For the evil of white patriotism and patriarchy to be distilled into a single determined calculating supernatural form. I want this shadow of my psyce to attack me so I might take great pleasure in killing it..
Instead the real Adam is just one of so many cowards, willing only to claim the name of nazi if they can be sure they won’t come to any harm so instead they hide behind the name of Alt-Right and rely on insults so esoteric nobody can understand to be offended. There is no single mastermind to take out. No great sadist to take satisfaction in dispatching. There needn’t even be any concentration camps, even if Trump does look stupid enough to open some. The victory of the nazis is not a targetted attack against any one minority, despite what very real discrimination and danger there is to them. The new nazis shall destroy all of us by obliterating the western economy and with it all the research and technology so associated.
Donald Trump isn’t Adolf Hitler, he’s Josef Stalin, the man who killed capitalism. Except where Stalin was a brutal mastermind using ideology to create divides among his foes Trump is a blundering buffoon destroying capitalism by letting it at last commit suicide. To a regulated capitalist there is no greater betrayal. Destroying the system you and the world relies on because you are a complete and utter imbecile.
I shouldn’t be so upset about that when Trump is causing so many I care about to suffer and die with his executive orders, when he is ushering in the demise of planet Earth by Climate Change, and it’s still only January 2017. Yet I can only care about so much. Trump poses a threat to everything and everyone. I can’t care about trans people, I can’t care about women or people of different nationalities religions or cultures, I struggle to even care about myself. The world is dying, the ideologies I believe in are dying. It is beyond the point when I can care.
I am a ghost in my life now. I rarely eat for pleasure anymore, just sustenance. I don’t watch things because I like them. I watch things because I like them enough and I am committed to the series. I walk because I should walk, shower because I should shower, write because I should write. My life isn’t reality anymore. Reality is just a place where my flesh vessel resides.
You know I don’t even care about my tits or my small penis anymore? Someone misgendered me the other day and I just shrugged. My father through a massive screamy tantrum giving a hardcore “the reason you suck” speech and I wasn’t even that bothered. I am not alive because I want to live or because I like life. I am alive because it doesn’t bother me too much and I know my death would only be a greater hindrance to those around me at such a critical time.
I exist, that’s all I do now and bad days aside I’m cool with it. I live for games of imperial expansion in Rome Total War or Civ 5. For fantasies of adorable submissive women. Like I love Amy Pond and Rory Williams as a couple but alternate universe versions of Amy Pond are basically my spirit animals now.
You don’t need to hear about that but it has been so long since I last hugged someone. Since I saw a friend, face to face, in the flesh. The fact that my father can ever threaten to hold my social life hostage by disconnecting the internet, nevermind that we have a shitty internet provider so I already have coping mechanisms for such an eventuality. So I dream of Amy pond. Of a life less lonely.
Heck at this point I feel tempted to write bad Hannibal Lecter fics because right now being sadistically devoured by a suave mother fucker doesn’t seem like a bad way to spend an afternoon.
Oh by the way trolls, you aren’t suave, you’re morons. So don’t even bother trying that approach.
My angst about the writing has gone, as has my drive. It’s as though without the furnace of self loathing telling me to stop I have no reason to keep going and so once I’ve written enough to get the fantasies started the writing stops.
I don’t need podcasts and audiobooks when I play games now. My brain has gone from needing the distraction to stop being bored to tuning them out and using them as reminders of when to stop playing. The game mechanic of just one more turn, just one more battle, one more city is satisfying enough.
The truly odd thing is despite the complete and utter shite raining down upon me and everyone I know there is hope upon the horizon. The revolution against Trump has already started. Even with politics forcing Corbyn to somewhat back Brexit there is enough criticism and opposition to hard Brexit that things may be smoother than they might otherwise be. Technology is advancing at an astonishing rate still and should be ready to pick up the slack when Trump succeeds in destroying capitalism. Americans are actually becoming more progressive in general, we are curing more forms of cancer and saving more species from extinction. Plus there is hope I can’t even talk about in my own life.
I feel so very very peculiar and so very fucking pathetic and yet I live and I’m actually kind of okay with that because I’ve got my games, my letsplays and my imaginary girlpets. Viva La Revolution, Comrades! Life may be shit but it is not over yet and while there is blood in our veins and a dream of a better tomorrow in our minds we may yet achieve it.
Right. I think I’m going to play some Rome Total War now. I’m playing as the Scipios on Easy mode and despite making an utter balls up of it I haven’t yet lost. Trying to conquer Egypt and the barbarians at the same time with a plant to let Carthage and Thapsus revolt so I may exterminate their populations and thus ease my earlier fuckups. I really shouldn’t be a politician. I’d make Trump look like a communist and I’m not talking about state capitalists like Stalin either.