Since we’re only a couple years shy of post-apocalyptic anarchy, I figure why not put on The Golden Girls marathon and zone out. Besides, it’s the episode where they all go to a local mystery dinner and actors play out a murder mystery while the paying guests interact with them and help “solve the crime.” I get a chuckle every time the detective introduces himself as Spade Marlowe. The other funny moment is when Blanche rationalizes her flirty behavior by saying “I’m Southern.” When someone asks “what does that mean?” without a skipping a beat, Dorothy replies “It means her mother was also a slut.” It’s a whimsical moment that makes me laugh no matter how many times I’ve seen the episode. Life is a bit like that. There are predictable little moments we look forward to for no logical reason other than the comfort they offer. I figure if I can string together enough little moments like that Golden Girls exchange maybe the last few years before the world goes to shit won’t be all that bad. The only problem is that TV sitcom episodes are souless things, and I’m not quite sure if I’m capable of truly connecting with someone who has a soul. I’m not even sure I’ve ever even tried before.
Sometimes now I walk the beat and pass the junkies and pass the prostitutes and think to myself that maybe . . . just maybe they are the way they are because they’re all clued in. Maybe they somehow got the message intuitively, subconsciously, or through brain radio frequencies. They must know somewhere deep down inside that the end is near. They probably look at me in my uniform walking by and think I’m a fool who doesn’t know only I do. Maybe they question the need for any law and order at all. Why not bring on the anarchy a couple of years or so early since that’s what’s coming after all. Why have law and order now when it won’t be here in the future? In the future it’ll be every man, woman, and child for themselves and those who lose their grip or can’t manage will wind up in a ditch or a gutter somewhere. Only the strong-willed will survive. I’m sure they look at me and see me as some stuck up Sisyphus when I try really hard to be an Atlas carrying the weight of the world on my shoulders. I plan to stick through to the bitter end. Why not? When my time comes it comes. If people think anarchy suits them let’s see what happens when there are none of us cops around to protect them from the mob.
For tonight, however, I’ve got my couch and I’ve got The Golden Girls and at least in this moment I can put it all out of my head. Some guys can’t do that. They take the job home with them. They know the same thing I know or at least they can sense it. How could they not? Leonard Cohen has the perfect song to describe it. Fittingly, it’s called “The Future.” Like the singer in the song says, “I’ve seen the future / It is murder.” Well, Cohen may or may not be pleased to find out he was right. In just a few years, civilization as we know it now won’t exist. I’ve seen it. I know it. I feel it. Now, how was your day?
Months ago I was just like everyone else, but then I saw it. I woke up smack in the middle of it. I went to grab my badge and gun only they weren’t there. In their place was a discharge form from the new government. “We regret to inform you your services are no longer required.” For a second I thought I must be dreaming but then I turn on the news and it’s all but confirmed. The anarchists have taken over our democracy and so the epic national destruction of our country began. I step outside and see looting everywhere. I see men who used to be beggars hurting children and running off with cheap electronics. “Give me Honda, give me Sony … So cheap and real phony.” You gotta love The Clash. I know I’m in law enforcement and I’m supposed to look down on punk music for its anti-authority anti-law enforcement propaganda, but I’ll be damned if that wasn’t the last real rock band that said it like it is. Kids these days have Kanye … what a waste. The Clash were real artists, they were men who wanted to make a difference with their music. Kanye is just a jerk who struck gold. Well, all the wealth in the world won’t protect him when the anarchy comes. He’ll be one of the first to suffer the blade of the guillotine and I say good riddance. If the world has to go to shit just so Kanye could shit his pants as his own fans cheer on his beheading so be it. Like I said, I’ve got The Golden Girls right now so I’m not worried.
I know most of you won’t believe this. You’ll think I’m just a cop who went postal. That’s fine with me if you don’t believe my story. As I told you, I woke one day and I was there. I was 2 years in the future and let me tell you a lot can happen in 2 years. That first day in the future was a shock. I was scared to leave my apartment. Every time I looked out the window there seemed to be shots fired in my general direction and there were riots that seemed to go on all through the night. People were angry. No surprise there. People are always angry. I see it every day. I’m a cop. That’s practically all I see. The next day, I grabbed my neighbor, Lenny who lived in the apartment next door. His eyes were hollow, his skin pale, and his hair looked as if it had been indiscriminately ripped from his skull. This guy used to look like Jerry Garcia but now he looked like a thin pale hobo who had been repeatedly brutalized.
I said, “Hey man what’s going on?”
He said, “You shouldn’t be here. If they find out you’re here, they’ll kill both of us.”
“What are you nuts? The anarchists have taken over this city, this state, this country. It’s every man for themselves and the first group of people they hunt down are cops. They know where you live. I’m surprised they haven’t come for you yet.”
“When did this happen?”
“It’s been happening for years but they completed their takeover just 3 weeks ago. We were on the safe part of town. Don’t you remember?”
“Maybe I was hit in the head. I don’t know what happened so please just tell me.”
“You and a group of cops led the resistance and put up a barricade all across what used to be the 5 Points. You and your men were brave. You fought but just about all of you perished.”
“I don’t remember any of it.”
“You bought us some time and I’m grateful for that, but now that the anarchists have penetrated the barricade, it’s a done deal. It’s everyone for themselves.”
I sat and hid in my apartment for the next day or so. I figured they must have looked here for me already and when they didn’t find me, they would have moved on figuring that I’d be crazy to come back. I dug out my old laptop from back in the closet and tapped into my neighbor’s wi-fi and all but confirmed the rest. It was like the French Revolution or The English Civil War. After the dismissal of law enforcement came martial law and the execution of anyone who had any kind of position of wealth and or fame. They took particular pleasure in tormenting every Reality TV star they could find. I don’t even want to describe what they did to the Kardashians. Executions became theater pieces streamed over the internet over Youtube and Netflix. The soundtrack to just about every image seemed to be the R.E.M. song “It’s the End of the World as We Know It.” Just about every meme and video played it as a celebratory anthem.
I watched what was going on and it didn’t faze me one bit. Everyone talks about how humanity is such a fragile thing. We’re all little snowflakes on our own private little journeys and all that crap, when really the true nature of humanity is chaos and cruelty and the human psyche can get accustomed to just about anything. If I wanted to, I could surrender to the same urges as the people out there. It would be so easy too. I can even understand why they do it. In the absence of order, people will rationalize just about any kind of behavior. That’s why religion was so important to the history of human kind. Religion kept people from this. If people believe there is a God watching their every move, they decide it’s best to err on the side of caution. Somehow, the big secret was revealed therefore unraveling those checks and balances human nature placed upon itself. The only “good” people who are left are those who choose not to submit to the chaos, those of us who never believed in the bullshit of religion in the first place, those of us who were always moral non-violent people because we chose to be and not because we fear retribution from an invisible man in the sky.
When I wake up back in my own time, my first instinct is to warn everyone, but they will all think I’m crazy so I just resume my life. I man my post like a good officer, like a good soldier. I show up for roll call, I walk my beat, I get my collars, and that’s it. That’s all I can do until the day comes when none of that matters anymore. When the world goes to shit, no one will be left to care what parking tickets I wrote or if some girl was really driving while texting when I pulled her over. I laugh inside a little bit when they say they’ll fight the ticket in court. Ha! Soon there will be no court but there will be no tickets either. I let them have their little victories. They will all have their ultimate victory in the end and it’ll be a force to reckon with. Maybe they’ll deserve it and maybe they won’t. That’s how fate is. It’s indiscriminate. It doesn’t care, but if I can string together just enough little moments to prove to myself that this life was worth something maybe it’ll counterbalance the indiscriminate nature of fate.
Maybe, I’ll ask Debbie out on a date for Saturday night. I met her at the deli and I must have said something to make her laugh and she smiled at me and we talked. She gave me her number and I held onto it, but then I had that little detour in post-apocalyptic hell and now it feels like ages ago. Maybe she’ll say yes or maybe she’s forgotten who I was. Maybe she just liked the uniform, but at this point who cares. All I can think of now are her eyes. She has the kind of eyes that could make a man want to be all he could be just so he can prove himself worthy of her trust. It’s hard to describe but in that brief meeting she was both inquisitive about me while giving off a studious vibe. I suppose that gets me every time. Anyway, if I can string together enough good moments where I can at least forget about the fate of humanity for a little while even if those moments are brief, perhaps this will all be worth it. Just like I put the job away in the back of my mind, I think I can compartmentalize enough to put the future I saw behind me too. After all, there must be enough things to laugh at, enough people to smile with, and enough clean air to breathe in to serve as fallback memories before everything falls asunder. If I could only feel her warm body close to mine, if I could only taste the sensuousness of her lips, maybe it’ll be enough to distract me from the ultimate fate of all humanity. Temporary distractions are the name of the game and some are more worthwhile than others. For now I have my couch and The Golden Girls and all is right with the world. Perhaps that will be enough after all. 10-4… Over and out.