Going About Life In A Society Where Whippersnappers Are The Most Prominent Individuals
-”Stellar Saul” Hirshberg
Introduction
The title is admittedly a bit dense, and it develops a necessary statement. The title is horribly self-explanatory, perhaps too much so. I reside in a society where the powerful consist of whippersnappers. I am expecting exclamations like, “They couldn’t possibly all be whippersnappers”. This remark is unbelievably untrue. Perhaps a few aren’t entirely whippersnappers, but the plethora remains nevertheless. And to think, protesting is simply treated as “political” and “controversial”.
These whippersnappers receive nearly every commodity. They have numerous women despite how noticeably corpulent they are, and whatnot!
Complaints are obsolete in this ridiculous society. Individuals know that they would undoubtedly receive a terrible beating merely by one insignificant remark. And to think, I could possibly get beaten for writing this!
These whippersnappers develop a sort of satisfaction to most fellows. Yearning is very rare, as citizens think that they have always received every luxury that they could possibly want. This story is written from the perspective of yours truly, one aware of the malevolent philosophy of the whippersnappers. One who can’t simply pride themselves on obeying these malicious fellows.
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Whippersnappers possess only idiotic, and despite their severe idiocy a bit of intimidating characteristics. For instance, whippersnappers insist on lack of ration accessibility, despite that this will certainly impact them as well.
Amidst silently remarking over this, I noticed someone approaching me.
“One loaf for pumpernickel rations, ridiculous! They are progressively getting less accessible!”
It was certainly an ignorant thing to say! I wouldn't even think of saying that! That exclamation could be referred to as “an act of dissatisfaction”, resulting in a variety of punishments for several years, supposedly in an attempt to “retrain the mind”. It’s bound to be spent in a dirty penitentiary, with horrible meals, and lack of hydration. After receiving treatment, most individuals are so frail that they are unrecognizable to what they were prior.
But it got me thinking, if this individual is not severely ignorant, we have similar feelings regarding the whippersnappers.
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I responded, “It is apparent that you’re dissatisfied with the government, correct?”
“Correct!”
“Perhaps we should talk later?”
“Agreed!”
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We mutually thought that it would be wonderful to visit precisely one day after the conversation. Certainly the whippersnappers would convict a citizen for shaming them, even in the slightest bit, so it was mandatory to find a place that could not be detected by the whippersnappers. If an individual somehow stumbled upon us, we would simply say that we were participating in a spiritual gathering.
I greeted him, “Hello”
“Hello”, he replied. Our conversations were still terribly awkward.
“What do you despise most about the whippersnappers?”
“Oh, perhaps that they are treated to such luxury and commodities. To think, they sit atop a gold pedestal!”
“Well, that’s definitely unfair! I’m not fond of their lack of sympathy for citizens, but I suppose that that’s a very common thing to be dissatisfied about!”
“Oh, to heck with this! What can we do to stop the whippersnappers?”
“Well, the whippersnappers are undoubtedly not superficially pleasing! We could bring a rather attractive person to the podium. We could possibly have them receive the power.”
“But that individual could be morally identical to the whippersnappers. They could insist on a communist government as well!”
“Oh, this is surprisingly challenging!”
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The conversation continued for a while, and we reached an ultimate decision. We were to make the economy progressively worse by creating an organization that purchases necessities merely off of the black market. Ultimately, the whippersnappers’ luxuries would be obsolete, and we could start our own socialist society, where everyone has equal affluence.
We discussed the matter a second time:
“Certainly the first step is to make our organization accessible. Unfortunately, we’ll have to use a subsidiary web browser of the whippersnappers.”
“Yes. We also need our organization to have a sort of significance. It shouldn’t sound superfluous and unnecessary. We should do what we can to make it legitimate.”
“But it certainly can’t be detected by the whippersnappers!”
“Yes…”
We talked for a while, almost in the manner of a friendly quarrel. Ultimately, we had developed a remarkable plan to promote our organization.
V: Part 2 (Conducting and Organizing “The Plan”)
Of course, our revolution isn’t literally an organization. To legally be considered an organization, a document must be sent to the capitol. And god knows that the whippersnappers, despite being extraordinarily idiotic, can most definitely comprehend a document horribly shaming themselves. To conduct our revolution, we were to create a website in a language incomprehensible to the whippersnappers, but extremely comprehensible to the average citizen. The language is simply referred to as “that of the middle class”, as the upper class is fluent in an entirely different language. Likely the public would find out about our organization, and happily participate.
After they joined, we would have to create some sort of literary document to educate them about our mission. If someone in the lower middle class was illiterate, we would simply explain it to them, hoping that they could possibly comprehend it.
Our organization would be something benevolent, in a world of malevolent individuals. Our book will discuss some rather sophisticated things. For instance, does genetics correlate with evil, or is it merely environment. Or ridiculous things in our society. For instance, how can an unattractive individual such as the whippersnappers, have polygamy with some horribly attractive women.
To succeed, we just have to rely on the whippersnappers’ idiocy.
V|: Part 2.33 (Conducting “The Plan”)
After completing a chronological list to begin our organization, I set upon creating a website entirely in HTML5 and CSS3. Given that these are such terribly simple languages, the site is bound to be a bit lousy, but not entirely rubbish. And appearance isn’t some important component to a website. Accessibility and message are certainly the most significant parts.
While I was creating the site, my business partner was simultaneously creating signs (in “that of the middle class”) to promote our organization.
Surprisingly, our site caught on remarkably quickly. I was pestered with numerous questions regarding the organization, and how to participate. It was horribly difficult to respond to all of them, and I pride myself on completing this.
Soon, nearly the entire middle class was sitting atop their houses, and waving supposedly controversial signs. So rapidly had I succeeded. To think, perhaps half the population was dissatisfied with the whippersnappers. It was apparent that several people were fond of repetitively saying,
“We need luxuries!”.
Oh, perhaps it is a sin for an individual to pride themselves on something, but, nevertheless, I couldn’t help myself! I had defeated a reportedly unstoppable government. What was I to do?
V||: Part 2.66
I awoke with the peculiar feeling that I had undergone some sort of treatment. I was repeatedly having spasms, and was in desperate need of a laxative.
A heavy, muscular man approached me.
“Is it apparent to you that you have committed a sin?”
“Yes. I suppose. I was simply protesting.”
“Perhaps this will put a stop to your protesting?” He inserted a metal syringe into my arm.
Nearly instantly, a peculiar thing transpired. I was submerged in a sort of spiritual world, perhaps hallucinating. I had some sort of realization regarding astrology, perhaps a significant discovery. I had yet another realization, this one about my setting. I was submerged in my own intellect, going about life amidst the shenanigans of my thoughts. Suddenly, my mind progressively got weaker. Despite this, I could still comprehend something; my intellect was becoming that of a corpse. This could possibly be a consequence, conducted by the whippersnappers. Well, it was certainly a significant one! My intellect approached its end. Now, my mind consisted of yours truly sitting atop an infinite void of gibberish, this mere gibberish ultimately became nothingness.
I was reincarnated, perhaps. My life resumed in what I suppose to be a women’s womb. Of course, I couldn’t comprehend any of this. I couldn’t comprehend anything complex in the slightest. My life had yet to begin, until I was sitting atop my deathbed, awaiting yet another reincarnation.
The End
Postscript:
“Rely it upon yourself to interpret my rubbish.”
About The Author
Saul Hirshberg is an electronic child artist, multi-instrumentalist, amateur computer scientist, and rather unprofessional author. His literary works consist of dystopian novels regarding inequalities in various types of societies. He is fond of simply sitting atop a television. He resides in Amherst, Massachusetts, with his mother, father, and sister.