I dream of a day in the future. In this day I will be balder, wrinklier and flabbier. My words will roll into each other and saliva will spill out with each vowel I wispily rasp. I will shake a shaky fist at the dandiest young kids who don’t give a fuck about old gramps. And I will have trouble keeping my guts in my intestines.
Yes, my excrement will flow loosely at times. An innocent post meal drop of wind will usher forth old man poo. Straight into me cax. It will cause me to shuffle slowly to the nearest toilet. At first I will be shocked…in denial. I will drop my pasty cream slacks to the floor and squat over the toilet. With a twitching hand I will wipe the streaks of faeces off the back of my thighs.
I will mumble to myself, wondering how such an event came to pass. How did I become such a dithery old man who smelt of shit and piss? In the beginning I will think that it was something I ate. I will think that it was a once off. I will sit on that toilet bowl and my emotions will get the better of me. Old wizened face himself will have salty geriatric tears of sadness streaming down his grizzly cheeks.
I won’t be able to talk to anyone. How the fuck do you bring that up with your friend of fifty years? “eh, you ever shit yourself these days horse?” No, that can’t fly. Your wife? The woman you have been loving and shagging for fifty years? Could you tell her? Perhaps, but will she ever want to have you between her ancient thighs again? Probably not. It would be close to the final straw
“Well, he was still able to go a few rounds with a few of them pills…..well, that was until….well, until when… “
“Well, until he started shitting himself all the time.”
“Oh Jesus he hasn’t started that has he? Lord bless us and save us”
No. I have seen this day in the future. In this future autistic people rule. They rise to power in 2035. Vastly superior at analysis, math, physics and logic they rise to the top at a monumentally rapid rate and begin obliterating all those who feel. They rule with a tyrannical objectivity which makes the Central Bankers look like Captain Jelly Button and the loved up hippies.
The cities are broken, grey and vast. Dilapidation is rife. Cyborgs maintain order. If your retina doesn’t scan, you are lazered and imprisoned. If you don’t obey, they kill you. Simple. People conformed quickly. I skulk my way to a chemists where the regulated governmental medicines are issued. I walk right in there and straight to the closest robot. I scan my retina and order..
“Incontinence pants, size medium”
The robot dispatches the pants and I make my way home. I put on the incontinence pants and at once I feel relief. I have security again. You can say what you want about Totalitarian Autistics running the world, but they know how to issue medicine. I shit myself. But now, instead of hobbling like a big withered baby to the public toilets, I smile and enjoy the warmth.
I gain confidence again. I learn how to walk in public while ejecting faeces from my ass in mid old man shuffle. The great thing about incontinence pants is that when you wear them, the smell, the stains and the horror you feel from shitting yourself become a dream. They become a memory which someone else might live. They inherit your nightmare. You are free. Free to live. Free to be whoever you want to be.
I dream of this day.
Some day it will come.
Are you ready?
Are you ready for change?