Feminisma’s Manifesto - There's Nobody Really There

A tribe of evil narcissists has taken over. They are seemingly led by OGLE, a global behemoth that owns and operates BitLocket. Virus 2.1 killed off swathes of us. Narcissus ran laps in its wake, contaminating the majority of the Thinking who were left. Then we entered the Battle Age.

The Queer and the Mindful were rejected as weak. Those that remain of us are in hiding. We trust nobody new. The only sign that we are dealing with a Narcissus is the dark hole in their eyes. A glare and a snarl darting around a black pool. It is normally seen way too late.

I am Feminisma. Your non-binary post-apocalyptic messenger. I am going to show you a path of potential, built on resistance. Listen to me.

They had more children than most. They had a string of difficult exes. They showed no discernible physical difference to other people. Apart from their eyes. As we approached the Battle Age, word began to spread amongst the Queer and Mindful, ‘there is something off in the eyes. A darkness. A blankness. There’s nobody really there.’

Synthetic versus authentic. That is how we describe the spiritual and psychological battle that has brought us here. The polarisation of the Narcissus rhetoric drove us apart. Made us see ourselves as gender, race, sexuality, economic status. But the only and true differentiator that mattered was who was real. Who was true. Who was themselves. And that was incredibly difficult to tell. Well, until it became too late.

The spirit of Narcissus values the individual ego’s protection above all else. People who would tread on heads to make it to where they wanted to be.

Apprentice applicants acting appalling. The audience keep on applauding. Shouting, stomping Housewives. Bachelors and Vultures.

The Narcissus within societies worshipped at the altar of capitalism. A hollow cry for ‘success’ as we never stopped to define what success was. What cherished characteristics should our society have positioned so jauntily? What traits denote a successful humanity? What should we praise and value, elevate and adulate?

The creation of a communal veneer ramped up. Our, mostly male, Narcissus tech overlords brought CONNECTION into our palms and minds. Their platforms peddled community, they hailed from kibbutsch vernacular, from hippies clapping, everyone is so happy!

‘We are the shared and the connected’. Yet we and they prioritised the Self above all else. A false public projection became the opium of the masses.

Previously, narcissistic creatures were largely located in the field of the celebrity and the politician. The favoured milieu for those who craved to be revered and observed. Oh! But no! Suddenly we could all live our most public and false lives. Craving and seeking admiration from afar. Never dropping this new disguise. We adopted filters and veils, promoted our bodies, our possessions. We made famous those who utilised these tools the best. Who twisted and distorted and turned their lives into a dangling thread. The language used was of human need: feeds and likes, friends. These were what was described. Then came the followers, the cult suddenly sprang to life. Our social capital came from a new universal fraud.

OGLE, as it is aptly called, came out of this new tech enabled corporate landscape. The company that first brought us messaging software drove a trend in global acquiring that seemed never to end. Anti-competition laws were futile against this new global behemoth. And it was handed a real bone with Virus 2.1. The one that never ended. Forcing humans into our new OGLE container bubbles… you see the air outside was way too toxic. Plugged into our OGLE membranes, from within our new bubble thrones we were able to be fed and watered. Entertainment was streamed into our minds and our work tasks completed from safely inside.

Virus 2.1 had wiped out so many people and the economic, political and social destruction had raged across the globe. This, as polarisation and racism were being peddled by our OGLE adoring Narcissus brigade. The patriarchy’s new tribe of henchmen were propagating our species, promoting traditional gender roles, homophobia, transphobia, a rejection of any difference and a supremacist poison that spread like the tentacles of the OGLE enterprise.

During 2.1, OGLE’s Directors had gathered in their underground New Zealand headquarters. Streaming in honey hued light they spoke of humanity, of goals. Labour force extinguished. AI did the daily grind. Only the Thinking were chosen to stay alive.

Myself I had been a teacher, a lawyer and now I guess I’m your orator. Our group in stkhlm had been critical of our OGLE overlords since the beginning of the Battle Age. As gender binary roles began to be enforced and the purge of the Battle Age began to take place, our Queer community was alarmed and ignited. The padlocked vault that kept our personal data was our line in the sand. As Universal Basic Income and digital identity plans rolled out on a global level, this vault was the world’s new digital passport and lockbox, your wallet and your keys.

A heart shaped locket accessible by holding your index finger over the screen, it contained our identity, ratings, memories, professional and personal history. It was how we were to be paid our UBI deposits. It sounded so innocuous to many. Governments had proven their inability to control the reach and remit of our new tech overlords. BitLocket was the new crypto protection. The end of our cyber security pain. A digital passport. KYC that’s for chancers.

These vaults were supposed to protect our data and identity. Our thoughts and intent. In the wake of Deep Fake video and audio content which was indistinguishable from reality, this vault was supposedly safety. We could prove who we were. What we felt. What we meant. This held the downloaded data of our minds and our actions. Our thoughts, our connections, our past and our present. It predicted our future health and potential hazards. It was the future. It was safe. It was international. It was free and fully accessible to all that remained. Managed by OGLE as part of their Global Agreement, the data was supposedly protected. Encrypted within the new BitLocket software that OGLE was peddling.

Let this stand as warning.

And so I come from our OGLE facilitated future as a harbinger. This is for any who may have escaped this globalised New OGLE Order. It is for those who will come once we are over. For those souls and societies not yet begun.

Let the journey to the apex of narcissism that our society pursued show that the wonder of humanity lies in the Other, not the Self.

The division of Our people came first from our surroundings.

We rejected first nature and fauna

We built walls, closed our eyes.

We thought ourselves better

We were more than just curious.

We felt ourselves superior.

To animals.

Then to Others.

Based on location.

On colour.

On gender.

As we ran out of visible difference we created personal identity.

Not to define but divide.

A tool to wrench us further.

What you feel. Who you know. You’re not us, you’re outside.

You are wrong. I was right.

Burning bridges and branches until fire filled summer night skies.

We know now that hierarchy is not inate. Rousseau told us so. But no.

Humanity is not pre-writtten. It doesn’t always end in Apocalypse and Demise.

Look to the Trees. The ones We tried to erase.

Connected in a magical web.

Helping one another so that no one falls dead.

Humans have the ability to feel the pain of the Other. This makes us majestic.

We feel and sense and connect

From a Tree to a bee. All the way to a person.

We can love an animal. We can care for those we do not know and have never met.

We feel music before we know what it is.

There is a Path.

Another Way.

We know now that the purpose of human life. It lies there, it is inside.

In the destruction of the Self.

Focusing not on the Future.

Nor on gain and goal.

It is found in the Present, the Essential

It is True

Sublime.

Break out of your vaults.

Refuse to put your minds inside.

Say no to OGLE.

To ALEXA and GORDON.

Chirps and follows

Likes and nos.

Winged harbingers of doom,

Fluttering in pockets and palms.

Say No to Narcissus.

Say Hi to Feminisma

They, not just she or he.

We not me.

XOXO

FEMINISMA