The rational, thinking person, had become a rarity. Instead, this was a world where emotions rule, and they are childish ones at that. And childish as in the temper tantrum/sycophantism cycle. Humans aren't rational. Maybe they were once, before Reality TV obliterated their ability to think. But not any longer. And that probably meant things based on ideas like that, such as democracy, were out of time. And I really didn't care. Even after the hangover had gone, I couldn't summon up the ability to care. If they wanted to laugh, or cry, or act in faux-moral outrage over a piece of fiction on the idiot box while the world around them burned, that wasn't my concern. I just had to make sure I wasn't dragged into it with them.
I left London that night, feeling depressed, and headed Southampton. Maybe the sea breeze would raise my spirits, though I doubted it. We had killed the Enlightenment, just as surely as Nietzsche's mob had killed God. But who would be around to preach it, when no-one would listen, or care even if they did?
"hey!" said Golden Rod. "This pamphlet is just a bunch of complaining! I mean, they've spotted a lot of problems but where are the solutions?"
Nopants scowled. "You're waiting for them to tell you the answers?" He guffawed.
"And what makes you think you can trust them anyway?"
Well I sure can't trust you." said Golden Rod.