Melian Myopics

[Frozen Smoke]

((Faith C. Marshal-Mackenzie - D.C. Trip START!))

“Whoop whoop!” Faith exclaimed as she raised her arm in the air, trying to catch the attention of and gather together the group of ragtag misfits that she’d assembled to take over the back of the bus to get hype about going to the nation’s goddamn capital! Herself, Abel, Demetri, Max and Lucas were going to get on early and make sure they got that sick 5 in a row combo going on.

They all stood in the queue to get hustled on, but she’d made sure to not just be there on time, but early. There was some grumbling from the people behind her when the rest of them got in line behind her, but they could go swivel. It wasn’t her problem they hadn’t thought to coordinate with their friends, and the teachers weren’t monitoring the line at all.

They entered in a single file, her head turned around to chat to Abel as she walked them forwards, their plans for the week coalescing slowly as they exchanged inherited knowledge about D.C. from friends and family.

“Dude, I know! The NRA museum sounds sick - We should definitely go, I mean, it’s not THAT far from the hotel-”

It was only when she looked forwards again that she realised the problem. People were already sitting in the back. And not a friendship group either, just a mass of randoms. She was sure that was going to be an interesting party, but it also meant she’d have to convince every single one of them to move out and let them drop in. Which wasn’t going to happen.

She grumbled a few less than savoury words under breath as she stopped and turned back again, raising her voice to address the rest of the squad.

“Alright gang, so, uh, someone’s already in the back so we’re gonna have to split up.”

She leaned to the side a bit, looking down their line and catching Demetri’s eye, before throwing her head up a little to silently indicate to him that she wanted to sit with him. If any single person was going to keep her entertained for the 8 fucking hours, Demetri was the one. Abel and Lucas paired off, disappearing into one of the slowly diminishing empty rows of seats.

No-one waited for Max.

((Faith C. Marshal-Mackenzie continued elsewhere.))

[MethodicalSlacker]

No one waited for Max.

This fact did not entirely catch him unawares. He anticipated the possibility that he would be forced to seat himself adjacent to some unsavory individual, or otherwise vulgar personage, as he anticipated all possibilities. Not overly so, but just enough that any tête-à-tête imaginable could be accounted for. A liberal? Ignored. A drug user? Ignored as well. Was conversation requested by either of the above parties? Max would determine the likelihood of their propensity towards getting a rise out of him, and then promptly decide whether he would engage with them or not, dependent on whether or not their was a camera phone pendant in front of him.

But this morning, his odds of having to endure any such hardship seemed unlikely. Rather, he would go so far as to regard his prospects as propitious. He'd find a seat among the other members of the (though often not the best-mannered, still comprising the) intelligentsia of George Hunter High School, and spend their voyage discussing the itinerary for the week.

Max was especially looking forward to visiting the White House (such a sanctified place deserves capitalization), and to paying his respects at the memorials. Perhaps there was room for a trip to the Arlington National Cemetery to watch the changing of the guard. That might have to be on his lonesome, as would his trip to either of the local food banks or soup kitchens.

None of that important at the present moment. What concerned him most currently was who would be his seatmate for the journey. He scanned the aisle, conscious of how long he was taking, and picked the first person he recognized. Walking over, he gave a polite smile (fearing that it bordered too heavily on 'smirk', he widened it decently) and sat down.

"Hello," he enunciated, "Parker."

[Frozen Smoke]

((>tracert Parker_Green
0 | -27 ms -31 ms -29 ms Gym Class Heroes█))

Parker was prepared for this trip. His phone had a full charge, and so was the battery back that was in his jacket pocket, though that was stashed away overhead. It was far too hot to wear anything other than thin, grey lounge pants and a t-shirt. Even if those batteries failed, he had a book that he’d been looking forwards to chewing on, and was in the midst of doing so as Max greeted him. He looked up and offered him his own strained smile in response to the similar effort on his part.

His reputation preceded him, and carried all the weight of the hot air it resided upon. As far as he was concerned, the only danger Max held to him was in someone deciding to intentionally conflate civility with association, and deciding to use that as a cudgel to beat him with. But as far as he was aware, no-one had the motivation to do so.

Ideally, he could keep it that way for the rest of what remained of the year.

He folded over a corner of the page on his book and rested it on the side, leaving the cover upright. It was a photo of a single, discarded, miniature American flag on the floor of a room that was filled with out of focus people in the background. Over the top of it was a yellow strip, and in black text, read “COLLAPSED: Inside Connie’s Doomed Campaign by Jonathan Allen”.

He dipped his head lightly in greeting. An olive branch.

“Max.”

[MethodicalSlacker]

Max's sight-line was drawn instantly to the book Parker was perusing, one that he had witnessed take a spot on the shelves of several bookstores and libraries in the past months. At various points in time, Max had skimmed its contents, even settling in to analyse a chapter or two, but he had yet to completely read the entire text. It had biases, and from the onset a formula in its composition was apparent—introducing a chapter with one of the book's many characters expressing displeasure with the state of events in medias res, followed by a process analysis of what led to that expletive or exclamation—and most of the content had already been digested in some form or another from other sources he had read during the election. However, the value to the common "Not My President" chanter, or even the word mincing "Non-Canonical" movement supporter, was obvious. It put things in terms intelligible to such persons.

As such, he had little interest in Parker himself. By carrying a book such as that—and angling it in a gesture that did not go unnoticed by Max in the slightest—he was inviting discussion with his ideals. Max had instigated, but Parker had consented. As with all skirmishes on the well-worn battlefield of ideas, Max first needed to size up his opponent and his capabilities. He had a mind for strategy and a scientifically tested way of thinking, which would be formidable in a debate, but there were certain touch-points and topics of discussion that were likely off limits if Max wished for the state of affairs to remain civil. Namely, discussion of healthcare would be likely off the table, as would the subject of the Queen.

With regards to an opening salvo, that would probably have to wait to be fired for a little while longer. If he was going to be sitting next to Parker for the duration of the road-trip, conversation would ideally start in a light place and slowly move into a space of conflict, mentally stimulating during the downtime in the places where all the trees looked the same and there were no buildings to stare out the window at, as Max often did when alone on car-rides.

He decided to play dumb.

"Good read?" he asked, gesturing towards the book.

[Frozen Smoke]

Parker hadn't been trying to draw attention to the piece by his side, merely attempting to appear polite, but given that Max seemed dis-similarly prepared to entertain himself for the trip ahead it was in inevitability that it would be discussed. Unless he found his own thoughts engrossing enough to occupy himself for 3+ hours. He hadn't asked how long the ride would be, and frankly he didn't want to know. He wouldn't be frustrated if they were late if he didn't know they were late.

The book itself was interesting. It appealed on a level that most political pieces didn't, except those of historical basis, generally. There was little focus on the candidates in question, or their policies, or how effective they were. It was a technical dive into the electioneering, the details of what mattered and why in terms of outcome, how a political narrative was crafted. Fascinating stuff, even if it came with a healthy dose assumed bias, which likely seeped into the evaluation of those details. It wasn't like he planned to run for office anyway.

He nodded to indicate his assent to the statement for a moment, before responding in detail, spending a few seconds on mulling an appropriately neutral response to the question.

"It's quite the civics lesson. A lot different to back home."

[MethodicalSlacker]

"Indeed," Max replied with a nod.

It was at this moment that Max felt tempted to take up a contrarian position, one of stark opposition to his own ideals. An education in Civics seemed to be a necessary prerequisite for a healthy democracy, but giving bad people good ideas usually ended in disastrous consequences. If he truly wanted some entertainment for his bus ride, he would take the opposite perspective—that people ought to not know how their democracy works, in order to disguise the sometimes hideous means taken to ensure the ends that make their lives function properly.

But he wasn't quite ready for that yet.

"Sometimes, I worry that Chattanooga is in too much of an ideological bubble," he confessed, "but I can't decide entirely which way that bubble skewers."

As he said this, he made himself comfortable in his seat. He would cede the interior armrest to Parker, preferring instead to leer out through the aisle towards the windshield. Max was not afflicted with motion sickness; rather, he wished to casually observe the goings on of his peers.

[Frozen Smoke]

Parker nodded in false understanding. America was an ideological bubble in and of itself, separating Chattanooga's specific sub-bubble was not something he was likely to be able to do.

What he was able to do was to recognise a leading question when he saw one.

Ideological.

Which way.

He wasn't going to be drawn into taking sides. He had no desire to be the person Max chose to take umbrage with for having the wrong colour armband today. Nor did he wish Max to think he supported... Whatever he supported, exactly. He'd never asked, although he supposed it was likely he was about to learn.

"We sure do live in interesting times."

Borrowed wisdom. But enough to kick the ball back into Max's court and see where he was intent on taking this.

[MethodicalSlacker]

The edges of Max's lips curved downwards into a slight frown.

"Interesting," Max repeated.

"Interesting, and, at times, destructive."

Max crossed his right leg up and over his left. Then, he brought his right foot back and around the ankle of his left foot, further entangling his limbs. This sub-argument—the instigation of the dialogue proper—would take more effort than Max expected or wished to put forth.

"The last election has made it clear, on various occasions, that this country has largely descended into tribalism and mud-flinging, with regards to political discourse, don't you agree?"

All he required, here, was a response. Any one would do.

[Frozen Smoke]

Max seemed frustrated by that. Or perhaps disappointed. He held his composure well. Parker hoped that his own expression held a dash more positive emotion in it, locking eyes with Max as he turned his head slightly to show the courtesy of paying attention, his lips in an unperturbed line. Repeating his statement back to him reminded it of how empty it was, which was possibly Max's intent - It wasn't like they exactly knew different times, after all. It would have been improper to point that out the flaw in such common wisdom though, and it seemed Max was, if anything at least proper.

He found his expression turning by itself as Max continued, the courtesy of attention becoming more and more freely given as he elaborated on his point a little. It was an interesting angle to take, and whilst he was sure this was going to turn into "Here's why my tribe is right" soon enough, finding out the road was at least an intriguing prospect.

He considered his words carefully before speaking.

"I would be hesitant to say 'This Country'. The vast majority of the body politic doesn't engage in the skirmishes of politics. And only a slim majority of possible voters makes up that group."

[MethodicalSlacker]

"Why, certainly, they do not personally engage, not in the sense of casting votes, but they do absolutely observe, and that is participation itself. They devour news content, they watch late-night programs, they listen to radios and read papers, whatever, but they are knowledgeable about things. Even if they do not act on the divisions, they contribute to them by—well, honestly, those who do not meaningfully contribute have their own bubble, to be frank, but more to the point, they empower the pre-existing spheres of influence by doing or saying nothing."

Max, knowing full well what stance he was about to take, let his facial expression loosen into a bit of a smirk. If there was ever a time for one, it was, perhaps, now.

"Individuals have their entire existences politicized at birth. That is the truth of the term body politic. They are pawns in a game, whether they know so or not. Though a callous treatment of human beings, it is an accurate one, for without a mostly silent, though certainly occasionally reactionary, audience, then the ends of the 'horseshoe' you so imply would have no bearing on anything to speak of. Indeed, this country has descended, because this country chooses not to change the channel."

And then, from smirk to grin.

"But I'm sure you already know all of that."

[Frozen Smoke]

Parker listened to it, trying to pick up on what he could. Max was almost reciting his beliefs, and the delivery was impressive. He sounded very sure of himself, and maintained eye contact the whole time, no glances off to the side to remember a point. It reminded him somewhat of a priest, giving a sermon with full certainty in the absolute nature of their knowledge and understanding, with bible verses replaced with appeals to popularity.

He nodded, and thought for a moment of how to approach the point. It wasn't something that was exactly easy to pick at. Inaction was, at the end of the day, the same as consent. And he couldn't deny that politics was one of the more popular things, although sports far outweighed it in exposure - Was every person born Sportified at birth as well?

He opened his mouth for a moment, about to retort along those lines, before he caught himself. He had been trying not to get caught in an argument here. He was taking a side, and treating Max like an opponent. He didn't have to do that.

He thought for a little longer.

"What's your point?"

[MethodicalSlacker]

Max let out a small laugh. That was absolutely the result he was hoping for. There was little chance that he possessed the aptitude for yarn-spinning required to keep that tangential thought running for much longer. A request to return to the central focus of the argument, however flimsy it currently may be, was the victory condition for that particular exchange. It set him up beautifully. What he had not expected was it to come so bluntly, so unadorned with civility. Hence, the laugh.

"My point?" he asked.

"We would be better off self-destructing this country and starting over. The state of affairs is teetering far too close to a point of no return, with regards to internal division and over-politicization, that a fresh start while a unified banner of 'America' still exists would be the ideal. Re-organize around a new set of principles. In fact, it would be incredibly interesting just to dissolve all of the states and see what militias coalesce into governments of their own. Unified, we are divided. Divided, we can be unified."

Was that a position he agreed with, particularly? Not very much. While there were aspects of American society he would prefer be completely and totally obliterated, a more gradual change is what Max would greatly prefer rather than annihilation. The fact of the matter was that this was a controversial enough opinion that it would either totally shut Parker off to responding to him, or it would illicit fruitful dialogue, more so than anything else he could provoke him with. It was pure thought experiment, additionally, not one that was likely to deeply offend Parker. He wanted a debate, not a shouting match.

[Frozen Smoke]

The laugh that emanated from Max was peculiar, it was short, sharp and proper. It was hard to tell if it was forced, or if his laugh was just in tune with his general demeanour. It was a better reaction than many other options, regardless. It had taken a few moments after the words had left his mouth for him to realise how blunt they'd been, how it could have been taken, but Max seemed content to let that slide by.

His point was surprisingly familiar though. There was a term for it, Collapsitarian - Someone who believed society had so moved on from it's principles that it was better to simply accept it, and let the whole thing burn, with the expectation that their idealisation of how society should be would rise from it's ashes. As clearly, their ideology was the superior one.

"Interesting thought experiment." he acquiesced.

He considered his next words for a moment, before posing a question back to him. If he wasn't going to contest, he might as well engage.

"What would you do if you were in charge of your own state? Say, Tennessee?"

[MethodicalSlacker]

"If I must take Tennessee," he appended, shrugging his shoulders slightly. Truthfully, it would not have been his primary destination for the establishment of a state. He'd prefer to stray further North several clicks, preferably to a location with a coastline for access to the ocean, but he could foresee a descent into geographical arguments if the Tennessee condition was breached, so he would play nice for now.

"Assuming," Max began, gesturing with his hands as he spoke, "for the sake of argument, that I am re-establishing the state of Tennessee after some catastrophe dissolves the federal government, keeping entirely to its original borders, then the first plan I would enact, after, of course, establishing a stable core of agriculture and food production over the course of what would most likely be years of work, would be to construct a large scale system of infrastructure to reinforce those borders with walls and to better connect the scattered populations of the state with roads. These roads would be used to provide emergency food and medical supplies to those in dire need, aligning them with the state through altruism and good will. Then, through a combination of state-owned and state-aligned private companies, I would establish cordial relationships via trade with nearby states, to ensure our mutual continued survival. After having done sufficient right by the people of the state through the provision of food, I would enact a system of involuntary conscription upon reaching the age of eighteen—not only to back up negotiations with actual force, but to have a peacekeeping force on the ground throughout the state. Similarly, I would make sure that each individual in the state is employed, the men in menial labor at the very lowest, and the women in agriculture at the very least. Idle hands make no bread."

Max reclined in his seat. That was the first phase of his impromptu never-truly-seriously-considered pet plan. It likely had some holes in it, to be sure. In fact, some of those holes were by design, points laid out and meant to be challenged. Max knew well his intellectual blind-spots.

"Sound good, so far?" he asked, "Anything I have yet to address? Or maybe you'd like to tell me what your state would look like, Parker?"

[Frozen Smoke]

Parker had to admit it was a relatively well considered plan, all things considered. There were flaws for sure, but at least it didn't rely on segments of the population secretly awaiting the signal for revolution, with each move being predicated with beneficial intentions. Medicine, food, trade. The lifeblood of modern civilisation, but things that could just as easily turn sour; Drugs, Trade Imbalances, Outsourcing.

There was of course, the overarching tones of authoritarianism in it, with mandated labour and involuntary conscription. He had to admit it was a bold place to start a political conversation at - people were normally far more milquetoast - but he had to appreciate Max's own recognition of the necessity in a monopoly of force. Or, at least, that's what it seemed like.

"I'd have to spend more time thinking on it." he replied to the question, somewhat honestly. He had never thought a great deal about what he would do if he were put in charge of the modern equivalent of a fiefdom.

"I do have a question though - Your plan relies heavily on the assumption of primacy of state aligned resources, such as in corporations and public works ventures." he paused for a moment, allowing the statement to be punctuated before proceeding. "How would you ensure that this state aligned top-down control is maintained if they are out competed?"