Prophecy

[Scribbly]

Yea, brothers and sisters, gather round and listen for I have seen what is to come. Our Lady has laid this curse upon my brow and I am compelled to share it with you.

The sky chokes with bile, the rivers run putrid and foul, the seas scab over with waste and effluent pumped by ungrateful men. The babbling heads will twitter and tweet, and with their vapidity cast doubt upon those who try to explain. The air will be cancerous, the food as fine-tasting poison, the soil turned to ash. The cities will be buried under rising sands, and fools will bleat that this is the work of the Gods, yet when have the Gods ever cared for the self-inflicted suffering of our species?

Those in gilded palaces will squeeze the marrow from the bones of the poor. Having stripped them of all other luxuries, they will claim the last scraps of wellbeing from the unfortunate wretches. They will strip away their very health, steal the minds of their children, and indoctrinate them into believing that their lives as human cattle are just and fair. The great mass will rise up in anger, but shall be struck down by the twin fists of Public Order and Public Good. Forced into a corner and made to lash out, the wretched who dare to do so will be named with the most powerful curses of the time; Radical, Terrorist, Criminal. So named, they will be ground into the dirt, until the dirt can no longer hide them. The Sickness at the Heart of Society may have been its salvation, if the masses had the ears to listen and the eyes to see. But at the behest of their masters, they put out their eyes, cut off their ears, rendering themselves deaf and blind in order to remain comfortable and unconcerned.

The putrid seas will boil in a mass of waste and death. Fear will stalk the streets, striking the hearts of all men without care for position or grace. The Great Black Wells will continue to belch, but their gold will be beyond the reach of too many. The great and the good will slide inexorably towards despair.

There will be a great gnashing of teeth and a terrible, uncomprehending wail. How, they will cry, can we not support ourselves? Have we not offered up enough of our flesh and blood to Them Above? The false profits will shrivel and die, and there will be none untouched by the hand of Want, but only they of the palaces will be able to Have.
And all this is as a game, the pieces of which have long forgotten the rules by which they play. Cheaters shall prosper, but the board shall burn, and a bounty of misery and pain will be reaped for the seeds we have sown, unto the ninth generation. Uncaring of the sacred Boundaries of the Map, the great nations of men shall crumble and fall, and all will be Default.

These are the things I have seen; the Signs of the Times in which we live.

-The Demolition Squid.

"Bank? OH SHIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIT!"

[The Wizard Joseph]

 

(Hail Brother squid.  *Clapping*  I said Hail, surely the Goddess speaks to you! *Dancing with hands up* Hail hail hail.  *falls over in the aisle twitching and laughing happily*)


Really though, seems best to me to be ready for it.  This may mean getting the cash and prepping the fam for the Days of Eris.

[Adios]

Well done!

[P3nT4gR4m]

Really though, seems best to me to be ready for it.  This may mean getting the cash and prepping the fam for the Days of Eris.

Cash? Forget cash, that aint going to last much longer than a decade or so. If I had a stockpile of that bullshit I'd be working on converting it into useful shit like tools, clothing, food and weapons. Otherwise the imploding global economy is going to devalue it to the point where it's worth less than the paper it's printed on. Unless you have a survival plan that requires hundreds of thousands of small paper rectangles to succeed?

Also, OP =

[The Wizard Joseph]

Unless you have a survival plan that requires hundreds of thousands of small paper rectangles to succeed?

Also, OP =

Umm, no comment.