As a morally deficient world, this planet has a lack of three things for greatness: supervising the plebes, elevating the elites, and walling off super-elites from common elites.
The plebes can run the welding equipment and pipes pumpers to get rid of clogged lines. They can be the administrators, the soldiers (if needed in a One-State-type future), the boring men.
The boring men can also be the cat’s paws in the games of the world. This is part of what Dark Sport means. They think they’re alone, but they’re not. They think their wives are with them, but they aren’t. A series of doors leads from the world to a greater Pacific planet across the edge of a continent, and there you will find numerous small cities and one superlarge city, all dedicated to the proposition that Fun is Dark and Shadow Gray is the color of the world, atop rainbow.
This is the true Age of Innocence. Newspapers don’t exist, network television has gone off the air. Crime reports aren’t there because there are no policemen anymore. Nobody polices anything. The misfits who drew ire and fire in past lives have been dealt with in a draconian fashion. Except the ones who were interesting. They get elevated up.
A slight amount of fear is the constant level of emotional immersion. Constant spaceships enter the stratosphere on their way to high ports across the solar system, and possibly much, much farther.
As Techno-barbarism lays its black hand across the land, pressing gently down, everyone knows his or her place. It is so low for the dainties with their filthy slits, and higher as we climb up in the natural aristocracy sense. You work hard, you learn to fly. Using computers to cheat one’s way out of problems becomes a way of life. Violence to upturn the opponent is acceptable. No one dies a meaningless death . . . but they do die, in this, our future.
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