I always prided myself on living life under the guise of positive nihilism. Yeah, things don't really make sense any more and the world feels like it's falling apart...but instead of giving up due to a lack of meaning - foraging a sense of liberation from the lack of pressure of hunting for a purpose. As granules methodically drip through the hourglass, that positive nihilism slowly morphed into cynicism. The world was still evil - but whilst meaning was still lacking; the absense of sense started to create confusion. And as of today - the 16th of July, 2026 - I struggle to figure out what is real, and what is fantasy any more.
As we edge closer and closer to our next Great War - the question becomes: will we be fighting enemies, or fighting one another? Past conflict has always had a Goodie and a Baddie:
World War 2? The Axis vs the Allies.
9/11? The Saudi's vs Freedom.
MeToo? Respect vs a statute of limitations.
There's always been a clear battle line drawn. Until now.
World War 8 appears to be warming up on the doorstep, the elites are busy monetising whatever remains of the future, and the leader of the free world has just celebrated his 80th birthday by cosplaying as a Roman emperor, thumb trembling in front of his UFC battalion.
Watching the sequel to Idiocracy on company time genuinely scares me. The propaganda is suffocating, and shit at best. Even AI seems to have given up trying. We have moved from asking, “Is this real?” to accepting that nothing is. As the military band serenades a short film of jets, explosions, and glory, this starts to feel like what I imagined life would be like living slightly closer to a certain “Little Rocket Man.” Yet here we are.
And the worst part? As Ilia Topuria’s face was rearranged, his right orbital bone seemingly trying to escape the madness, I still found myself wanting more.