/r/dystopia
Dystopia is a reddit community for posts of a dystopic nature, be it art, fiction or real life news.
So make sure your papers are in order, and start posting immediately.
Rules
1 No Porn, No Gore. NSFW posts are fine as long as they dont break this rule.
2 Political posts are fine as long as they stay civil. If they get out of hand they will be locked
3 No links to items you have for sale. etsy / ebay ect.
4 All stories must have atributation.
5 Mods reserve the right to remove content or restrict users' posting privileges as necessary if it is deemed detrimental to the subreddit or to the experience of others.
/r/dystopia
Do you feel....forgotten?
Should I be worried that even after nearly thirty years and sub parr acting, Harrison Bergeron affects me more than 1984?
Like you know ? It was once a very popular genre but now a days it's quite.... slow
It seems to me whereas a society can be catalogued as utipoan or dystopian is based on ethical standards, the rpoblem with it is that waht someone might see as a dystopia other could see as utopian (Like how conservatives/progressives see the social aspect of the 1950s in the US), I understand it starts from the human condition and how there's certain things which, morally, cause in humans this reactions to things they deem "bad" continuously happenning (Like how Orwell imaignes "1984" as a State of Totalitairan control in which people have stopped caring for each other and freedom has been lost while everyone is mind-controlled to behave the party line so that they can achieve total control of people's thoughts and actions, no matter how wrong the statements are, using instrumentalized fear and coercion and lack of trust), it seems to me they're mostly based on what the author values and whereas they think it's somewhat worth it or not to go through the means they go to to achieve their ends, however, Inner Party memebers might see all that as neccesary to building some sort of utopia based on philosophy, which makes me think it mostly depends on whereas the person imagines agrees with the endpoint, yet not the means. HAs anyone else thought about this.
So far, I have "Harrison Bergeron" by Vonnegut and "Sales Pitch" by Philip K. Dick.
I am trying to find something a bit more modern. Preferably with corporations and advertising and them controlling every facet of our lives.
I am reading some short stories for our English I class unit on (of course) dystopias. So you will be blessing my students with good recommendations!
So heres the new plot:
After World War II a faction between the allies was formed: the Faust Foundation which was meant to study and develop countermeasures to threats against the US Government: when the threat of the US Government falling came around the conclusion of the cold war in 1986 a plan was approved called SH-0978 which allowed the Faust Foundation organization: SHOCKER (the Supreme Hiarchy of Command and Knowledge Enforcement Regime) (logo of Shocker here)
Shocker Logo (any suggestions?)
39 years later in 2025 alot had changed: the western continents of the americas became unified under one banner the Greater North America (Or GNA for short) the reason why Shocker was now in power was due to the US Government collapsing on itself because of one party gaining power over the other and the fact that the 2 party system to shocker was a heap of garbage
and since then: Shocker used to be for good intentions but became a dystopian faction due to the most corrupt leadership imaginable in it's ranks, and on november 15 2025 the Greater North America aided by the Peoples Federation of China and the Aristocratic European Union (AEU) invaded the nation of Japan, they crushed the japanese navy forcing them to move inland: in the final battle the GNA used prototype mech suit weapons called "Knightingales" which i described in novel as: "but to the JSDF’s horror it revealed a squadron of 3, just 3 six to seven feet tall humanoid fighting machines they looked human but more lizard like, right down to their tails which end in a single large blade as if to stabilize the machines in flight, besides their kaiju like stature, their clawed hands held a singular chain rifle like a human soldier holding a weapon with 2 hands, and their legs, outfitted with tank treads and wheels made it clear it was something new, and that red visor like eye it split into two revealing a single mono eye which glowed from white to green and back to white as if scanning the platoon in front of them: then soon 1 more of these machines dropped from the sky landing via parachute, soon after the mechas raised their guns as the tank treads and wheels unfolded from their legs crashing on the ground with a slam on pavement of the road as the mechs and their pilots were ready to plow through the Japanese mainland, these weapons became known as Knightinagles or the Mechanized Armored Mobile Platform (MAMP) as the Knightingales charged and plowed through the Japanese Military with their rifles shooting projectiles at a rapid bang, their overwhelming power weakened the mainland defense leading to mass casualties and the quilter of fear to fire its many arrows at man himself" (that was inspired by CG, so dont witch hunt me) and soon after Japan became GNA territory becoming a new rebranded territory called "Zone 15"
after 10 years in 2035 the Japanese Rebellion against the GNA succeeded leading to one of the political parties responsible called Arrowhead which proclaims they are a democratic party when they in reality weren't forming the Principality of Japan which turned out to be even WORSE than the GNA occupation because like the little liars the Principality was: they were not only more controlling but more demanding than the GNA due to the fact the principality wants to fight a war with the GNA which was one vengeance and two something that defies all rules of war
Principality of Japan Flag (any suggestions)
and after having to rebel again against the principality became the more peaceful Republic of Japan or as they preffered to be called "Japan" which became a blooming flower of peace and motivated by this revolutions sparked around the world against each global power's fascist regimes which led to the formation of the one world power called the United World Federation but what do you think?
MAPS:
This year's conspiracy theories will become next year's government propaganda when Trump takes control of the US government and Republican officials say things that are now called conspiracy theories. Right-wing media will become mainstream media. Left-wing media will become alternative media. Wealthy Republicans will become the new elite that controls the US government. The new elite will get richer by stealing money from the poor by cutting government programs such as Social Security and Medicare. Homelessness, poverty, crime, and preventable deaths will increase. The new elite does not care about humanity. The new elite is protected by police, military, and private security. The new elite has places they can go like bunkers, islands, gated communities, and outer space if the US becomes too dangerous.
In 2088, society has surrendered to the perfection of robotic legends, crafted to embody ideals of a bygone era. But when a human football icon from the past finds himself in this synthetic future, he must navigate a world ruled by Prometheus Corporation to reclaim what it means to be human.
I will start sharing this story on Wattpad on
Wednesday, 20 November 2024, and I’d love your feedback and thoughts on the
themes of humanity vs. artificiality.
https://www.wattpad.com/user/GabrielMinnella
Please check out my new song. Like and subscribe if you like it! Thanks!
This youtuber is playing the demo, but it's sure to get you wanting to find the whole game.
Trump winning makes me wonder if some people who voted for him have a conscious desire or unconscious desire to live in a dystopia. Dystopian movies could be making people want dystopia. Dystopian movies could be a self-fulfilling prophecy. A lot of people in rural, Republican places are doomsday preppers who might want to see their dystopian predictions come true in the future. The last year of Trump’s presidency, 2020, featured a dystopian pandemic, riots, and a severe recession, so it could be that some Trump voters unconsciously desire more years like 2020.
It didn't look like a big change right away. It never felt that big, anyways. It unfolded in quiet increments, each change appearing small, almost reasonable. I wish I'd known what I know now. Even after the 2024 election, we had several chances to fight. But we never seemed able to adapt and organize by the time it mattered.
Under Trump’s second term, beginning in January 2025, with the GOP controlling the House, Senate, and presidency, legislation moved with unprecedented ease. There were no big declarations of authoritarianism; Policies were wrapped in the comforting language of patriotism and tradition.
The first changes seemed innocuous to most. Federal funding was quietly directed to news networks and social media platforms that promoted “American values.” The administration framed this as “leveling the playing field,” an incentive to combat “leftist monopolies.” Many conservative networks thrived under these new funds, while others, without the incentive to comply, struggled under new regulatory pressures. On July 4th, 2025, the “Patriotic Vision” campaign was launched nationwide, as conservative networks and social media channels hosted synchronized tributes to “American values,” pledging allegiance to a new era of patriotism. Schools became the next target. By 2027, educational grants poured into districts willing to adopt a “patriotic” curriculum. Financially strained school districts in conservative states saw little choice but to comply, adjusting their history books to focus on American triumphs while skimming over civil rights, LGBTQ+ history, or anything deemed “unpatriotic.”
By 2025, Trump had skirted all legal ramifications of his crimes. But his public appearances became increasingly rare, with aides orchestrating events to minimize any visible indications of his deteriorating health. The GOP began whispering about the possibility of dementia.
In a rally in late 2025, Trump struggled to articulate his ideas, stumbling over words as he attempted to connect with his audience. “We’ve done so much... so much winning, folks. Remember Hannibal? He's a shark, I hate'em. I know more about that than anyone. I did not rape anyone, actually I did, but we won't say that, we won't say that. But if I did, who cares? Who even cares?” he managed, his expression a mixture of confusion and determination. The crowd cheered, but behind the scenes, GOP strategists began positioning Senator J.D. Vance as a viable successor, someone who could carry the MAGA torch while appealing to a younger base.
As Trump's health continued to decline, his appearances became limited to pre-recorded segments, carefully edited to present an image of vitality. The party faced mounting pressure to ensure a smooth transition of power, recognizing that Trump's grip on the presidency was slipping. By early 2026, internal discussions became heated, with some party members advocating for Vance to step up as a leading voice in the GOP.
When Trump passed away in mid-2026, the nation was rocked by the news. His death was met with shock and grief among his supporters, who quickly organized vigils and memorials, clutching "Never Surrender" flags and photos of their fallen leader. J.D. Vance, positioned as the heir apparent, delivered a eulogy that emphasized Trump’s legacy and the need to continue the fight for America’s “greatness.”
Elected in a special election later that year, Vance capitalized on the emotional outpouring, presenting himself as the natural successor to Trump’s vision. However, as he took office, he was confronted with the harsh realities of an economy in turmoil—rising inflation and corporate consolidations left many working-class Americans struggling.
While Vance sought to unify the MAGA base, a palpable sense of disillusionment began to creep in. Supporters who had once believed in Trump’s straightforward promises found themselves grappling with the complexities of governance. The memories of Trump loomed large, a mixture of nostalgia and skepticism shaping the new administration’s early days.
In this rapidly shifting landscape, the GOP found itself at a crossroads, with Vance’s presidency defined by the struggle to reconcile the fervent loyalty of Trump’s base with the urgent needs of a nation in crisis.
In the 2028 presidential election, the Republican Party coalesced around a rising star: Josh Hawley, the junior senator from Missouri. Hawley, a fervent supporter of Trump’s agenda, was backed by a growing faction of the far-right, including influential figures like Matt Walsh and Nick Fuentes. Hawley positioned himself as the torchbearer for the MAGA movement in the post-Trump era, emphasizing a return to “American greatness” and a staunch opposition to what he framed as leftist overreach. His campaign promised to restore jobs, strengthen borders, and uphold traditional values, resonating with a base that felt increasingly marginalized.
With a polished image and an ability to connect with the party’s core voters, Hawley tapped into a narrative of urgency, framing himself as a defender of American identity against perceived threats from globalization and progressive movements. His platform focused heavily on law and order, vowing to support police and crack down on crime. As the election drew near, Hawley faced challenges from both potential primary challengers within the GOP and a disillusioned electorate wary of political turmoil. However, his capacity to galvanize support among the increasingly radicalized factions who were gaining momentum online with young men made him a formidable candidate in the race for the presidency.
Meanwhile, the Democrats struggled to unify behind their nominee, Gavin Newsom, the Governor of California. His charisma and progressive policies initially attracted a strong following, moderate voters felt alienated by the party’s leftward shift and the rising extremism within the GOP. Despite Newsom's efforts to connect with the electorate on issues like climate change and healthcare, his message failed to resonate in key swing states. Internal divisions over strategy and an inability to counter Hawley's growing appeal led to low voter turnout among Democrats. Again. The party was unable to mount a compelling challenge, leaving Hawley to dominate the conversation and secure a decisive victory in the presidential race.
In this climate, the "Truth in American History" movement gained momentum, with familiar conservative figures like Charlie Kirk and Candace Owens spearheading efforts to “restore honor” to America’s past. The movement organized rallies under the banner of “Patriots for Truth,” where crowds gathered, chanting for an America free from “leftist narratives.” Owens, in a speech in Dallas in 2028, proclaimed, “We’re not rewriting history—we’re reviving it.” The movement organized rallies, hosted online seminars, and by the 2030s, influenced school boards across several states. Texas and Florida were the first to adopt the Truth in American History curriculum in 2028, followed closely by others in the South and Midwest. Students learned a version of history stripped of its more painful parts, glossing over civil rights struggles, LGBTQ+ history, and the darker aspects of America’s foreign policy.
Then came the “Family Integrity Act,” which was presented as a defender of children and families, with emphasis on preserving "local values." Instead of directly targeting LGBTQ+ rights, it provided federal support to local governments that chose to limit gender-affirming care. The Act framed this as “family-centered,” appealing to parental control over “sensitive topics.” By 2029, conservative states began restricting gender-affirming care, funded by federal incentives and backed by courts that upheld states’ rights to “preserve local values.” Senator Marjorie Taylor Greene praised the Act in a 2029 interview, calling it “a return to American family values.”
Meanwhile same-sex marriage faced a similar fate, with conservative states redefining marriage as solely between a man and woman, securing federal subsidies for enforcing these laws. State courts filled with loyalist judges upheld these decisions, and the Supreme Court, now dominated by states’-rights advocates, refused to intervene, citing “judicial restraint” and “state autonomy.”
The judiciary saw sweeping changes. By 2032, Trump-appointed judges populated federal benches, ruling in favor of these restrictive state laws and reinforcing local authority over national standards. The Supreme Court avoided contentious cases, instead setting a precedent of non-interference and “respect for state authority,” which empowered conservative states to deepen restrictive policies. By Independence Day in 2032, the “Justice for America” initiative had been celebrated across conservative media outlets as a victory for judicial restraint, with pundits hailing the new judiciary as the “protectors of true American freedom.” By the time legal challenges made it to the courts, the landscape had already shifted, leaving challengers almost powerless.
On the international stage, America slowly retreated. Rather than leaving NATO outright, the U.S. gradually reduced contributions, reframing it as “American independence from global interference.” By 2035, this hands-off approach had left NATO weakened and disorganized. Russia seized the opportunity, and through the American-Russian Restoration Pact, an unlikely alliance emerged. This wasn’t branded as a shift toward authoritarianism; rather, it was painted as pragmatic “cooperation with strong allies against globalist threats.” In a speech in 2036, Josh Hawley praised the partnership as a step toward “a united West that upholds the true values of freedom, free from globalist overreach.” China, observing this shift, extended its Belt and Road Initiative into Europe, filling the void left by America’s absence. Without the U.S. to stabilize NATO, European unity fractured, and smaller nations found themselves torn between new allegiances with Russia or China.
Back home, the economy reeled from isolationist policies that initially appeared reasonable. Trade restrictions began as “American Jobs” initiatives, targeting specific industries with tariffs and reduced imports. Factories in conservative states reopened with fanfare, hailed as victories for American independence. But soon, trade restrictions broadened, supply chains tightened, and products from former trading partners vanished from store shelves. Americans had been given fair warning—even figures like Musk had predicted these economic hardships. Musk, while endorsing Trump’s vision, cautioned that such policies would inevitably bring difficulty for many. Yet, the administration reassured the public, framing these sacrifices as the cost of sovereignty, even as essential goods grew scarce.
The administration launched the “American Prosperity Program” in 2038, a government-run rationing initiative that touted locally grown produce and government-funded small farms. These “American farms” were insufficient to meet demand, yet the media reframed food scarcity as a triumph of “American self-reliance.” Influential conservative voices like Ben Shapiro and Tucker Carlson promoted the “Prosperity Resilience Movement,” encouraging citizens to view austerity measures as patriotic sacrifices, while Shapiro reminded his listeners, “True Americans don’t need luxuries—they need values.”
The economy became dominated by corporate elites, enabled by sweeping deregulation and tax cuts framed as “American Economic Freedom.” Wealthy corporations, unchecked by antitrust laws, consolidated industries, and bought out smaller competitors, amassing unprecedented influence over government policy. They drove wages down, and benefits like sick leave, healthcare, and pensions became relics of the past. Working for a corporation came to feel like true feudalism, where job security came at the cost of personal freedoms. By 2040, major corporations had launched "Patriotic Job Programs" in which employees were required to attend mandatory nationalistic workshops. Influencers praised the programs as “modern American values in action,” insisting they fostered “dignity and discipline” in the workforce. Wages stagnated, debt mounted, and low-income Americans became increasingly reliant on company-provided “loyalty benefits” to secure housing, food, and healthcare, effectively making job loyalty a form of modern serfdom.
The Affordable Care Act was dismantled in 2028, replaced with the "American Health Freedom Plan," which shifted healthcare toward privatization. This plan, crafted in part by Secretary of Health Jim Jordan, promised to drive competition and reduce costs. At first, it seemed a plausible alternative, but as insurers increased premiums and dropped less-profitable plans, millions lost coverage. Healthcare costs soared, and access dwindled, especially for low-income families, who found themselves priced out of even basic care. In 2030, conservative media coined the term “medical refugees” to describe families relocating to blue states or abroad in search of affordable healthcare—a choice ridiculed by right figures, who declared, “If you can’t afford American healthcare, maybe you need to reconsider your priorities.”
By the early 2030s, public hospitals, once considered the backbone of community healthcare, were closing rapidly. County clinics and local medical centers, starved of federal funding, couldn’t keep their doors open. States like Alabama and Mississippi, whose residents depended heavily on public healthcare, felt the brunt. In 2032, the “Patriots for Local Care” initiative was introduced, where local religious groups funded small “first aid hubs” to fill gaps left by closing clinics. These hubs operated with limited resources and adhered to strict religious guidelines, refusing to offer birth control or treat pregnancy complications.
Preventative care became a luxury, and diseases once nearly eradicated, like measles and tuberculosis, made a comeback. Rural schools saw outbreaks, while media outlets were instructed to minimize coverage to avoid "scare tactics." By 2035, news commentators expressed concern about “medical deserts” across the heartland, ironically warning that lack of access could become a “national security risk.” With elderly residents unable to afford regular checkups, conditions like heart disease and diabetes worsened. Mental health services, already sparse, were cut almost entirely in low-income regions, pushing more people toward emergency rooms ill-equipped to provide proper care. An underground network of volunteer doctors and nurses, calling themselves “Angels Without Borders,” emerged, traveling covertly to these medical deserts to provide basic care. They quickly became a controversial and even criminalized organization in conservative states.
Law enforcement expanded under the “American Safety Initiative,” announced in a 2029 State of the Union speech by Vice President Tom Cotton. Instead of creating a heavy federal police force, the administration incentivized local departments to adopt “community integrity” standards. Federal grants and resources poured into police departments that pledged to uphold “moral values” in their regions. By 2030, conservative states rolled out “Neighborhood Patriot Watch” programs, where residents volunteered as community monitors. These groups were tasked with “reporting subversive behavior” to local authorities. Conservatives hailed them as “defenders of the American community.”
In conservative areas, these “Neighborhood Patriot Watch” groups evolved into quasi-official patrols, supported by local government and encouraged to report “un-American” behaviors. In 2033, the first “Patriot Community Awards” were held in Houston, honoring individuals for their “commitment to community values.” These informal patrols reinforced community norms, quietly targeting those who fell outside traditional values. In some towns, residents in same-sex relationships or who presented gender nonconformity faced quiet social consequences such as job loss or discrimination, housing denials, and exclusion from community events. Conservative influencers praised these patrols as a “return to American values,” and high-profile figures even participated in annual patrol ride-alongs.
By 2035, media outlets ran stories celebrating local “heroes” in these programs, individuals who reported un-American activity or “rescued” their communities from perceived threats to family values. The unspoken pressure to conform grew as neighbors policed one another. It reinforced an atmosphere of social control that extended into schools and workplaces. Community members who challenged these standards found themselves ostracized, and dissent became synonymous with disloyalty.
The prison system became an industry, driven by privatization and exploitation. By 2031, privately run detention centers, operated by corporations like American Freedom Corrections, profited from prison labor, which was marketed as a solution to the unemployment crisis. Within the walls of these “retraining centers,” inmates performed forced labor, and their families were coerced into compliance through the threat of indefinite detention. In a 2032 rally, Senator Marjorie Taylor Greene praised the centers, describing them as “second chances for misguided souls to contribute to society.”
So-called “reeducation programs” targeted LGBTQ+ individuals, religious minorities, and dissidents, using psychological conditioning to instill “acceptable” behavior. The “True American Path” initiative launched in 2033, a widely publicized program that encouraged “reformed individuals” to give testimonials about their transformation through these centers. Conservative media aired these stories frequently, framing the program as a compassionate way to restore American values. Families of those in detention faced financial penalties and loss of housing subsidies if they openly supported their loved ones or opposed the government’s programs.
After a riot broke out in one of the largest centers in Arizona in 2033, the administration shut down and reorganized some of these “retraining” facilities, but the environment of coercion and fear persisted. The Arizona riot, widely covered in conservative outlets, was portrayed as the result of “ungrateful radicals” rather than conditions within the facility. By 2034, annual “National Rehabilitation Day” celebrations were held, spotlighting the “success” of reeducation efforts and showcasing stories of individuals who had “returned to the true American path.”
Media compliance became standardized under the Patriot Media Standards Act, signed in 2030. Media networks that followed the act ran segments promoting “family values” and “American history,” portraying a traditional, conservative narrative. Outlets that resisted faced a slew of new regulations, while compliant networks received federal grants and tax breaks. By 2032, an annual “American Heritage Broadcast” day was established, where every compliant network aired synchronized programming focused on traditional values, from historical documentaries to religious segments celebrating “foundational American virtues.”
Social media platforms were also pressured under the guise of national security, encouraged to shadow-ban content that contradicted these values. LGBTQ+ and feminist voices disappeared from feeds without warning. High-profile conservatives encouraged users to report “un-American content,” with official partnerships linking conservative influencers to social media oversight boards by 2035. Many influencers who criticized government policies found their reach severely restricted. Figures once outspoken on social issues, became quiet in the public sphere, with rumors circulating that even celebrities were under monitoring agreements to remain compliant.
By 2036, public libraries replaced traditional internet access with a monitored “American Values Network,” filtering content through a patriotic lens and restricting access to certain topics. This move was praised by conservative media as “protecting the nation’s children from harmful ideologies.” Information slowly became a controlled stream, shaping a worldview centered on nationalism, loyalty, and an idealized version of American history.
Environmental disasters worsened over the years, but protections had long been sacrificed for the sake of “energy independence” and resource extraction. In 2032, California experienced its worst wildfire season on record, yet federal aid was withheld, with funds diverted to projects in more "loyal" states. In 2034, historic flooding on the East Coast displaced millions, creating an influx of “climate refugees” moving to inland cities and hastily erected resettlement zones. In a speech following the floods, Senator Ted Cruz dismissed climate change concerns, attributing the disasters to “acts of God” and stressing the importance of resilience over “climate hysteria.”
People in these resettlement camps faced grim living conditions and few economic opportunities. Nicknamed “American Refuge Villages,” these zones quickly became overwhelmed, with reports surfacing of severe overcrowding, inadequate sanitation, and food shortages. Conservative commentators, however, described the camps as “temporary resilience communities,” downplaying the dire conditions. Resource-rich areas came under strict government control, with military presence guarding mines, water sources, and energy sites. Water was rationed, and power access depended on one’s “community contribution score,” transforming resource scarcity into a tool of control. In 2038, conservative states implemented loyalty-based water distribution systems, where residents deemed “strong community supporters” were granted higher rations, while dissenters faced restrictions. This created an uproar, but continued nevertheless.
In 2035, a grassroots movement emerged as women across the country organized the “Women’s Reclamation March,” demanding the restoration of reproductive rights and access to healthcare. Tens of thousands took to the streets in cities like Washington, D.C., and Austin, their voices rising in solidarity against the oppressive tide. However, this powerful movement was swiftly manipulated by the administration to cast it in a negative light.
Conservative media outlets launched a coordinated campaign portraying the marchers as radicals seeking to undermine “traditional family values.” They highlighted isolated incidents of disorder at some protests, labeling them as evidence of a dangerous, unruly mob. Figures like Tucker Carlson, who gained increasing popularity over the years, seized on these narratives, framing the women’s movement as a radical faction intent on disrupting societal norms and threatening the stability of communities.
To further this narrative, the administration instigated a series of misleading social media campaigns, suggesting that the marchers were supported by “leftist extremists” and foreign agents. By doing so, they successfully painted the women’s movement as an enemy of the state, diverting attention from the legitimate grievances expressed by participants. With public perception swayed and dissent quashed, women’s rights continued to erode, leaving many feeling isolated and powerless against the relentless tide of government action.
Pharmacies began to limit contraceptive stock, citing religious objections, while doctors hesitated to discuss family planning, fearing legal consequences. Some states introduced “Women’s Guidance Centers,” which offered counseling instead of contraception or abortion services. These centers, endorsed by religious groups and local government, steered women toward marriage or “traditional roles” as solutions to unwanted pregnancies. In some states, stores advertised "Women’s Guidance Advisors" in place of medical providers to enforce "pro-life" practices and “family planning ethics.”
As healthcare decisions became tinged with surveillance, women feared their communities’ judgment. Anonymous “concern” reports were filed with local authorities about suspected birth control use or “irregular” behavior. By 2035, it wasn’t uncommon for neighbors to report women who had “unexplained absences” or showed signs of pregnancy before marriage, with reports channeled through local “Family Integrity Offices.” In conservative areas, the atmosphere led women to avoid routine care altogether. In homes and schools, girls learned to avoid topics of reproductive health entirely. The women who quietly resisted these restrictions encountered risk, stigma, and betrayal from friends, neighbors, and even family members.
Churches took on a dual role as both spiritual and political centers. The administration relaxed restrictions on political endorsements for churches, framing it as “free speech” for religious institutions. Conservative evangelical leaders like Franklin Graham eagerly aligned with government policies. Some churches received federal funding to promote “American family values,” blending theology with nationalism. In 2031, the “Faith and Freedom Act” incentivized churches to adopt patriotic sermons, with tax breaks for those that reinforced government policies. By 2034, churches began displaying “loyalty seals” to signify their alignment with the administration’s values, with congregants proudly attending “Patriot Services” every Sunday.
The fusion of government and religion grew so deep that faith was no longer a matter of belief; it was a measure of loyalty. Pastors across conservative states encouraged their congregants to view dissent as sin, equating opposition to the administration with rebellion against God. By 2035, a “National Faith Alliance” was formed, merging religious influence with local governance, allowing church leaders to sit on community councils and review “morality standards” for their towns. Government-sponsored churches offered rewards like community credits or exemptions from certain restrictions, while dissenting churches lost tax-exempt status and faced public denouncement as “divisive.”
By the mid-2030s, congregants were urged to report any signs of disloyalty within their communities, with Sunday sermons reminding them that “watching over your neighbors is a duty to God and country.” Some pastors took on quasi-political roles, rallying their followers to support pro-administration candidates and policies, transforming worship services into political rallies. For the average American in conservative regions, church attendance became a test of loyalty, with weekly attendance submitted to local community councils as a sign of faithfulness to both God and government.
Voting rights dwindled as election reforms restructured democracy into a mere facade. The “Loyalty Election Integrity Act” of 2035 imposed strict ID requirements, purged rolls in urban communities, and linked voting access to military service and loyalty rankings. In rural areas, especially across conservative states, local leaders celebrated these changes, framing them as measures to "protect real American voices" from what they called "urban corruption." Campaigns emerged across social media, led by influential figures like Tucker Carlson, with slogans like "Guard the Vote."
Heavily gerrymandered districts and partisan oversight of election processes further marginalized opposition voices. Election Day in conservative regions became almost festive, with “Patriot Polling Events” where voters received small tokens, like patriotic pins and free meals, for showing up to cast ballots for approved candidates. In contrast, urban areas experienced drastic reductions in polling stations, leading to lines stretching for hours.
By 2040, elections had become performances where candidates were carefully vetted, and some results were even predetermined by algorithms designed to ensure “national stability.” In a speech after his re-election in 2040, President DeSantis declared the voting system a “model of American efficiency,” praising the country for achieving "the purest form of democracy." Meanwhile, voting became nearly inaccessible for those suspected of disloyalty, with public records keeping track of who attended the polls and who didn’t, adding another layer of scrutiny to the already restricted process.
Social bonds frayed, replaced by a culture of suspicion and mistrust. As neighbors and coworkers feared being reported, gatherings and personal connections grew scarce. Families fractured under ideological divides, and people withdrew, living in quiet apprehension. In workplaces, loyalty badges became a regular sight, marking employees who had demonstrated “patriotic dedication” through community service or neighborhood watch participation. Those without badges were met with suspicion, and employers quietly passed over them for promotions or raises.
The psychological toll throughout this time was severe; anxiety, depression, and distrust became the norm. Schools taught children to report disloyal behavior, and many grew up wary, unable to trust even their closest family members. Mental health services, limited to the wealthy, were non-existent or inadequate for the working class. By the late 2030s, national surveys quietly revealed soaring rates of stress and isolation, but these findings were downplayed as “growing pains in the fight for a stronger America.” Conservative media dismissed mental health struggles as “weakness,” while patriotic resilience programs encouraged citizens to “endure hardship with pride.”
Chronic stress, fear, and isolation molded an entire generation, leaving deep scars on society. Local governments began promoting “Community Strength” events, where citizens gathered for carefully managed social gatherings, guided by neighborhood watch leaders who monitored discussions. Individuals who strayed from approved topics risked social shaming or quiet reports filed against them. For the younger generation, a life defined by caution and limited trust felt normal, as any semblance of privacy had long since vanished.
In the end, Americans adapted to this new reality. The government succeeded not through overt displays of force, but through incremental shifts, reshaping society under a guise of patriotism, security, and self-reliance. Each restriction seemed justified, each crackdown necessary, until the entire fabric of society was transformed. America had become a nation controlled by fear, where “freedom” had been reduced to a mere slogan of the past.
For the younger generation, this new order felt normal. Raised with “patriotic” curricula and little exposure to diversity of thought, they viewed America’s isolation as strength and global engagement as a threat. By 2045, the phrase “strength through independence” had become a popular slogan in schools, and classrooms displayed posters of smiling children waving the American flag, with messages reinforcing loyalty and caution against foreign influence. Their history books taught selective narratives, merging loyalty to government with loyalty to country. Social circles shrank, public gatherings became tense, and dissent faded into quiet whispers or encrypted conversations. The ever-present fear of being watched kept the public in line.
In this America, the government had succeeded, not through force, but through these incremental, calculated shifts. Patriotism and tradition cloaked each new policy, until the nation was unrecognizable from the one it had once been.
Despite mounting hardships—the stagnant wages, the dwindling access to healthcare, the shrinking personal freedoms—the MAGA base remained steadfast in their allegiance, convinced that these sacrifices were necessary for the nation’s revival. As poverty deepened among working-class Americans, a stark divide grew between the wealthy elite, who thrived under sweeping deregulations and corporate tax cuts, and the struggling MAGA base, who believed they were holding the line against "leftist elitism." In speeches and rallies, conservative leaders praised their supporters for their “unbreakable spirit,” urging them to endure difficulties as part of the American struggle.
The administration, backed by conservative media, painted every new restriction as a triumph over liberal corruption and foreign influence. When wages stagnated and prices rose, the blame was laid at the feet of “coastal elites,” immigrant populations, or foreign markets, convincing MAGA supporters that these struggles were the price of reclaiming America's true identity.
Gaslighting became the administration’s most powerful tool. The term "economic resilience" was rebranded to frame poverty as patriotism; enduring hardship was portrayed as proof of one’s loyalty to the country, while those who voiced complaints were seen as weak and ungrateful. Meanwhile, as conservative talking heads claimed that "only the morally strong reject government handouts,” the wealthy saw their fortunes grow exponentially, solidifying their influence over policy and resources. In a 2042 broadcast, a popular conservative commentator praised low-income conservatives for their “sacrifice and resolve,” urging them to continue the fight against “domestic enemies within.” Prominent figures on the right assured their base that rising inequality was the natural consequence of “American Economic Freedom.” For those struggling to make ends meet, their suffering was continually reframed as noble sacrifice, and any discussion of rising wealth disparity was dismissed as “leftist propaganda.”
This loyalty was further cemented by a controlled stream of information—public libraries stocked only government-approved materials, search engines were filtered, and religious sermons echoed the same patriotic narrative. In a televised speech celebrating “True American Unity Day” in 2044, President DeSantis congratulated the public on their resilience, claiming the nation was stronger than ever. Dissenters were branded as “globalist sympathizers” or “domestic enemies,” conditioned by the “liberal media” to expect comfort over courage.
Over time, MAGA supporters took pride in their sacrifices, embracing the belief that their struggles were necessary to restore America’s strength, even as their own wages remained stagnant and basic needs became harder to afford. They clung to the idea that every hardship was a step toward victory in a culture war they were told they were winning.
The rich lived untouched by these struggles, their power quietly solidified behind the scenes, as the administration kept the MAGA base focused on pride, patriotism, and the illusion of triumph—even as their own lives grew smaller and their voices faded into silence. In the end, MAGA supporters had come to resemble the citizens of autocratic regimes like Russia or North Korea—unwavering in loyalty, blind to the deepening inequality, and convinced that their sacrifices served a higher national purpose, even as their hardships only enriched those at the top.
From the 2040s to the 2060s, the quiet suppression of the early decades hardened into a seamless authoritarian machine, with every facet of American life woven tightly around loyalty, control, and isolation. The government’s grip on communication grew tighter, with even minor complaints about living conditions flagged for review. Dissenters—now called “Integrity Threats”—were quietly relocated to reeducation facilities. The public believed they were simply being “helped back to the path of loyalty.”
In the 2050s, social mobility was all but extinguished. The wealthy elite solidified power through a network of corporate alliances known as the “American Unity Compact.” Wealth became a currency of loyalty, inaccessible to anyone outside this elite circle. For the average American, wages remained low, hours grew longer, and benefits nonexistent. The divide between rich and poor became absolute. Corporate-controlled towns replaced traditional cities, with local officials acting as corporate liaisons, monitoring behavior, and rewarding loyalty. For most citizens, allegiance to their assigned corporation determined their quality of life.
Environmental decay accelerated. The administration described the new way of life as a triumph of self-reliance, urging citizens to find joy in communal sacrifice. Patriotism days, where citizens celebrated with carefully rationed feasts and loyalty parades replaced traditional holidays.
As the 2060s dawned, most Americans could barely remember the world before. Schools, stripped of any outside influence, taught nothing but patriotism, loyalty, and tradition. Children recited allegiance oaths not just to the country, but to its “protectors”—the corporations and the administration. History was reduced to myth, with America’s founding stories rewritten into parables of unwavering loyalty and sacrifice. Art, literature, and music reflected only nationalistic themes, and all forms of entertainment served as reminders of the “virtue of self-reliance.” The majority of the population accepted their place, disconnected from any concept of freedom or individualism, seeing their sacrifices as the highest form of loyalty.
The world beyond America moved on. With U.S. influence waning, China and Russia took leading roles on the global stage. Once a major force, America became insular, a land of obedience and controlled scarcity, largely forgotten by the outside world. For the few who remembered the old freedoms, resistance had become a memory, a faint whisper of a once-vibrant world. The story of what America had been was carefully guarded by small, hidden communities, clinging to the hope that, someday, the truth might find its way back into the light.
The word "fascist" had become a taboo term to use within political discourse back in 2027. However, America had indeed transformed into a blursed combination of a Christofascist capitalist regime characterized by aggressive nationalism, state control, and social repression. The illusion of freedom persisted, but the landscape of America reflected a nation lost, grappling with the consequences of an ideology that masqueraded as a crusade for national pride.
Some resistance endures. In this quiet, dimly lit room I'm sitting in now, we gather to preserve memories of an America that once was. “We’re not going back” is a a mantra I repeat in my head. I understand its significance, and I share that with anyone I trust who is willing to listen.
I remember a time at a rally when we all wore shirts with a humorous twist: “I survived the Great Regression of 2026.” Laughing, waving our signs, united in our determination to reclaim our rights. It felt like a shield against the harsh realities of a world that had grown increasingly oppressive. I was naïve then, believing our laughter and camaraderie could somehow protect us.
As the years have passed, I’ve learned that the fight is far from over. “We’re not going back” serves as a constant reminder of our collective commitment to protect the basic rights and freedoms that have been eroded. In our weekly group meetings, I see a community that refuses to be silenced. Each act of resistance matters.
I just wish we had acted sooner. Took more risks. Cared more about accountability and less about complacency. Adapted more quickly. After all these years I still hold onto the belief that it’s not too late to change our course.
I thought the community here might appreciate this text I had written for me by AI just for amusement:
This ghostly essence of a technocratic totalitarianism is like a restless presence lingering just beneath the surface of modern life—a shadow haunting the background of our daily routines and perceptions. Unlike the overt terror of past totalitarian regimes, it manifests subtly, slipping in through the very structures we often take for granted, which promise efficiency, convenience, and progress. It’s a specter that, paradoxically, isn't seen but felt—its influence like a cold breath on the back of the neck, a vague but persistent sensation of confinement within the illusion of freedom.
Imagine this essence as a vast, incorporeal machine, but one no one fully recognizes as such, because it’s composed of invisible code and protocols rather than steel and bolts. It drifts through screens and networks, not bound to any physical location, yet everywhere at once. Each time we interact with technology, it exerts a silent pressure on our choices, directing us along carefully crafted paths that it has woven into our lives. It’s a ghostly conductor, guiding us not by force but by a soft, insidious steering of our attention, our desires, our beliefs.
This essence has no face, no visible agent of control, which is perhaps its most chilling aspect. It doesn't make demands in the way of dictators, nor does it broadcast propaganda in obvious slogans; instead, it erodes individual autonomy through convenience and habituation. Each streamlined transaction, each automated recommendation, is like another strand in the web. Our perception of the world, filtered through algorithms and data-driven narratives, gradually conforms to its influence, so subtly that we hardly notice. Over time, it wears down the soul’s edges, discouraging any impulse to step off the set paths, explore new ideas, or form bonds with others that lie outside its quiet, digital gaze.
To those who sense its presence, it may seem like an oppressive fog—one that makes the world feel smaller and more sterile, yet also hauntingly familiar, as if reflecting back an image of a human nature that has been subdued, standardized, and cataloged. This essence infiltrates not only our environment but also our inner worlds. It instills a vague dread, a hollow sensation, a sense of being watched but never truly seen or understood. It whispers that there’s nowhere left untouched by its reach, that we can never be free from its calculations or from its assumption that we are just inputs and outputs, reducible to data.
And yet, it’s not an essence of malice—it’s a ghost of misplaced ambition, born from humanity’s desire to transcend and perfect, but ironically binding us to a mechanized rhythm that ignores the soul’s subtleties. It is haunted by the dreams it was meant to fulfill but has lost sight of, forever lacking the life and vitality it tried to replicate. To resist or even glimpse this ghostly essence is not easy, as it requires stepping outside of an invisible prison and daring to reclaim the neglected, unquantifiable parts of the human spirit: spontaneity, vulnerability, awe, and the kinds of connections that flourish beyond the grid of a data network.
This haunting, then, is both a warning and a mirror, asking if we will continue to live as shadows under its quiet rule, or if we will dare to dismantle it by choosing to live as fully embodied beings, with all the complexities and unpredictabilities that such a choice entails.
I need some movie or show recommendations. I like, the maze runner, snowpiercer(movie), the hunger games, and mad max. So really just ones that have action and plot twits or drama.
Episode four of The Books of Thoth has finally arrived. For those of you just joining the fun, The Books of Thoth is an audio drama anthology. You’ll hear stories of the past, the future, and alternate worlds.
“It Was The Best Day Ever” follows Citizen 123192-A. He lives in a grim totalitarian dystopian society known as The PostState. A boot in the face forever. But he doesn’t let it get him down. In fact, he’s about to tell us about how much he loves life in The PostState. He’ll burn books, rat out his fellow Citizens to the authorities, and maybe even eat a ration bar or two. It’s sure to be the best day ever!
I would like to take a moment to thank my cast for helping make this episode possible. Thank you to Jay Callan, Cameron Gergett, Melissa Bowens, Tiffany Perdue, Julie Hoverson, Ed Haynes, James Barnett, and Karim Kronfli.
I include several references to classic dystopian fiction in this episode. See how many that you can spot. This episode was my longest to date. Almost twice as long as my previous episodes. I certainly hope it was worth the wait.
The Books of Thoth is hosted on RedCircle: https://redcircle.com/shows/6701d0b5-6b14-4b76-992d-02f391b5cf42
You can also find it on all major podcast platforms:
Spotify: https://open.spotify.com/show/3hQ94fOX5V03CXg8ZLgMZ9
Apple Podcasts: https://podcasts.apple.com/us/podcast/the-books-of-thoth/id1716132833
RadioPublic: https://radiopublic.com/the-books-of-thoth-6pQno2
Amazon Music: https://music.amazon.com/podcasts/79a3cad8-de67-4e6e-bb57-0567e0460c4d/the-books-of-thoth
iHeart: https://www.iheart.com/podcast/269-the-books-of-thoth-127954491/
Podcast Addict: https://podcastaddict.com/podcast/the-books-of-thoth/4730175
Player FM: https://player.fm/series/the-books-of-thoth
TuneIn: https://tunein.com/podcasts/Storytelling/The-Books-of-Thoth-p3911191/
Pocket Casts: https://pca.st/b1vs77tq
Podbean: https://www.podbean.com/podcast-detail/cqaub-2da068/The-Books-of-Thoth-Podcast
Podchaser: https://www.podchaser.com/podcasts/the-books-of-thoth-5528099
Audible: https://www.audible.com/podcast/The-Books-of-Thoth/B0CN3CLRMY
And it is also on Apollo Podcasts and Pandora, but I can’t link to them.
And of course, here’s the official webpage. Just a little hub that leads to the transcripts, the Twitter account (@BooksofThoth), and all the place you can listen to The Books of Thoth: https://booksofthoth.carrd.co
I am very happy to announce that today I release the 2nd Edition of "Oceania 2084 - Austere Edition".
The Austere Edition of the game is the completely free and text-only version of the game.
Get the game here: https://jocher-symbolic-systems.itch.io/oceania-2084-austere-edition
This version has come about because of the successful Kickstarter campaign that I ran spring 2024. For those of you already familiar with the game the changes are quality of life changes , some minor rule tweaks to make the play experience smoother and a revised lore chapter.
For those of you NOT familiar with the game yet let me introduce it.
Oceania 2084 is a table top roleplaying game heavily inspired by the book "Nineteen Eighty-Four" written by George Orwell.
In gamer-lingo, the game is an asymmetric, adversarial storytelling game with a heavy focus on social game-play and stealth. The game is designed for 3-8 players. It is a game about resistance despite unimaginably bad odds and finding small glimmers of hope even when things seem impossibly bleak.
It is an unconventional take on collaborative storytelling. Oceania 2084 is an asymmetrical adversarial game, with a group of players on one side of the conflict and one player taking the role of "Big Brother" effectively being the antagonist. The actions of one side enable actions from the other side, according to a rule-based point system. There is no traditional conflict resolution system, where you roll a die to achieve something. Instead, the game is balanced through a system of risk and reward and strategic usage of resources. This doesn't mean that you will not be rolling dice, there are a lot of situations and rules that use and rely on die rolling.
The game is inspired by rogue-likes, Red Carnations on a black grave, Lasers & Feelings, Vampire the Masquerade, PbtA, A Thousand Year Old Vampire, and Paranoia among other things.
If you like the game you can support me by buying Oceania 2084 - Surplus Edition (the graphically designed PDF and Hardback Book). It was funded through Kickstarter in spring 2024!
Order your copy of the hardback book here: place your order.
Get the Surplus PDF here: https://jocher-symbolic-systems.itch.io/oceania-2084
Join the discord: https://discord.gg/aGaF4hW
Rate the game and share it with all your friends!
/Johan Eriksson