Edgar Allan Poe, vision of the future
In recent days, as I reclined in my rocking chair, weariness overtaking me, I succumbed to a most wretched vision—a ghastly phantasm that unfolded in the realm of dreams. Awaking in a future shrouded in darkness, I found myself confronted with a sight so dreadful, so monstrous, that it defied all reason. During my sojourns, I had engaged in discourse with men of eminence, those who had achieved success and wielded influence in the realms of science and commerce. In our deliberations, we turned our gaze towards the future, contemplating the boundless progress of mankind. It was my conviction that the bountiful prosperity we had reaped, nurtured by burgeoning industries that had ushered in a better existence for our brethren, would invariably flourish in the days to come, under the auspices of scientific and medical advancements. Alas, the nightmare that seized me during a fateful afternoon slumber tore asunder my rosy expectations.
For in this accursed vision of a time yet to pass, every facet of existence had been upturned, the natural order inverted. The truths we held dear, revered as pillars of righteousness, were scorned and trampled upon. The notion of fair elections had been banished, replaced by a sinister reality that bore the weight of whispered tales—dark tales of malevolence concerning bankers and the very essence of monetary power. Once tethered to the reassuring solidity of gold, the currency now flowed from presses fueled by empty voids, channeled into the pockets of those who danced to the whims of avarice. With these illusory riches, they wrought corruption upon elections, ensnared politicians within their insidious grasp, and even orchestrated the downfall of foreign sovereignties. A government, comprised largely of those who harbored same-sex inclinations, exerted dominion over the American people—or what remained of them—while the once-hallowed borders of our fair land stood open to the world. Through this unholy gateway, a tide of depravity surged, inundating our shores with miscreants and carriers of malady, displacing the native population with nary a
struggle. Thus, vast homeless encampments, those lamentable testaments to shattered lives, now lined the once bustling thoroughfares of our great cities. Moreover, Negroes, without restraint, launched their assaults upon whites, even venturing to assail women, while the white man, driven to the precipice of abject cowardice, dared not raise a hand in defense of his own kin.
Yet, in this macabre theater of confusion, where the very fabric of reality unraveled, a grotesque masquerade ensued. Among the populous, there walked men—afflicted by a grave affliction of the mind—who draped themselves in the garb of womanhood. An inconceivable tableau, indeed! And to compound the abomination, an army of queer men and women, their hearts ablaze with unnatural desires, ascended to the seats of power. They, the architects of an infernal decree, legalized the murder of innocents within the sanctity of the womb, all in the name of selfish desires—for personal aggrandizement, education, or the advancement of their wretched careers. The nightmare of this future grew ever more frightful, ever more repugnant, until, with a jolt that rattled my very soul, I was torn from the clutches of slumber, grappling with the profound horror of the desolate world I had dreamt.