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Dick Rubin: Go Scorched Earth, Baby.

April 14, 2017


Dick Rubin is a visiting professor at MINKA University. His mother describes him as a “nice boy but a little unhinged.” Typos, punctuation errors and other mistakes are intentional. He crafted this essay (lack of punctuation and all) for our DISSENT issue.

it all started a few months ago. one night, up late reading fake news articles, i came across a story about billionaire entrepreneur, elon musk.

it turns out elon believes we live in a computer simulation. in fact, he’s got a team of physicists working round the clock to figure out how to escape our false reality. at some point, though, this knowledge fell into the wrong hands. and well, that’s how we got our tweeter in chief.

in 2015, somewhere deep in the basement of trump tower, the donald had a religious experience. in a vision, the machine gods imparted to him the very rules of the game we all play. at last, he understood. in this simulation, you can say or do ANYTHING you want…and the bots will love you for it. the more outrageous, the better.

if you think about it, it makes perfect sense. if you were an artificial intelligence from the 23rd century, wouldn’t you want entertainment? ancient rome had its gladiators, green bay has its packers. the future silicon overlords have us, the american people.

it’s been fun. but this is a game we won’t be playing anymore, thank you very much.

on january 20, 2017, the MINKA community opted out.


gathered together for our Deviant Diskotek party, we drank from a vat of specially prepared Kool-Aid. in that moment, we left our earthly bodies behind and transcended to the next dimension.

now, as we gaze down at earth from our new perch, we can’t help but laugh at the futility of our previous lives. running around a digital playground, desperate to protect our fragile sense of self, we were the authors of our own suffering. what kind of existence is that?

if you’re “alive” and reading this, i guess ritualized group suicide wasn’t for you. honestly, if you want to remain part of a lower-dimensional plan, that’s your business. but heed these words, my friend.

the world you know isn’t real. hell, maybe your friends aren’t real. maybe even your beloved pet pomeranian is just a compilation of 0’s and 1’s.

at first, it may be uncomfortable to face this truth. soon you’ll find it liberating.

i lived my last months on earth in a state of bliss. i pushed the boundaries of pure hedonism. i had sex with strangers at all hours of day and night. i stole from the rich and gave to myself. eventually, i saw myself for what i am – a god.

the master of my own destiny.

isn’t that what we all yearn for? to act as we please without the fear of what others might think? should we not seek to embody that most american of values: freedom?

in the end, don’t we all want to be DONALD TRUMP?

some guy named clausewitz once said that “politics is war by other means.” so here’s my advice: go scorched earth, baby.

i’m talking sherman marching on atlanta. tom brady shredding the cleveland browns.

embrace the spirit of nihilism. forget the rules of capitalization. forget any rules at all.

while you’re at it, go write some dope lyrics, paint a masterpiece, sell somebody a lemon on a used car lot, serve up a dank cup of coffee, make something that is weird, create something that is uniquely you, or go sit in front of the TV for the next 40 years. FUCK IT! and fuck what your friends think because our next commander-in-chief doesn’t give a fuck what anyone thinks.

the machine gods are listening. what do you have to say? or are you too afraid to say it?

in the words of NINA SIMONE:

i wish i knew how

it would feel to be free

i wish I could break

all the chains holding me

i wish I could say

all the things that I should say

say ’em loud, say ’em clear

for the whole round world to hear

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