“In the year 2525, if man is still alive. If woman can survive, they may find.”
– “In the year 2525”, Zager and Evans
May 5, 2042
Dear Diary: Darn. The Profanity Patrol caught me again. I was just riding down the highway in my little Lectro-Ride, under autopilot, when a retro self-drive almost ran me off the road. It must have been closer than 50 feet to me! The maniac! And all I did was say, “Darn.” Well, not quite darn. Of course, my Perpetua-communicator was on and The All-Hearing Computer must have heard me. The All-Hearing made my car pull off to the side of the road and I had to wait until the Federal Ethics Police came by and gave me a castigation session and a ticket. Now I have 27 black marks on my Permanent Piety Record, have to pay 450,000 Debits in fines and must attend 3 Sinner Repent sessions! Well, there go my plans to see “The Sound of Music” again this weekend! It was just a….not nice day.
June 28, 2042
Dear Diary: I saw the most incredible woman. It was smoggy enough that the Federal Health Police actually let us go onto the beach by the Lake today. I love days like today when we can all say, “No ozone? No problem.” I was at the soyburger stand, having a standard nuked special, and there she was. Covered from head to toe in the most beautiful green sun-be-gone beach suit I’ve ever seen. With detachable feet! Her ankles, which I glimpsed between her foot and leg coverings, just drove me to the edge. My God, what a woman! A slim, boyish figure. You can tell she lives her life according to the “Maximum Calories Per Day” rules. My kind of woman. If she would just remove her mask, I know her face has to be like that of the Blessed Mother that used to be on the windows in the old Catholic churches before they were all burned down.
July 4, 2042
Dear Diary: Interference Day! My favorite holiday. Celebrating when the Truly Virtuous Party came to run our wonderful country and freed us of all the Non-Believers, the Sinners, the Liberals and most especially, the godless Democrats. Ran all those scum out of the New United States and forced them into dreadful places like New York, Massachusetts, Canada and that real purgatory on earth, the Peoples’ Republic of California – just where they belong! The Coalition of Real Americans – Traditional Republicans, Tea Party Republicans, Neo-Republicans, Dixiecrat Republicans, New Right Republicans, Old Right Republicans, Skull and Bones Republicans, Wrestlemania Republicans and Nascar Republicans – these were the True Patriots that made this country great again. After four hours of patriotic sermons at the My Way or the Highway Pentecostal Cathedral and a couple of public floggings in the town square, it was time to PAR-TEE! I haven’t had that much lemonade in years. Oh, the sugar. It was almost sinful.
August 17, 2042
Dear Diary: I just made my plans for my annual 3 day vacation and pilgrimage. I’m going to take the Fast Tube to Walkerton, our nation’s capital! Oh, I just can’t wait. I’m going to visit the Bless Our Senate Building and the National Rewritten Archives to see the original “Declaration of Your Dependence.” I’ll fit in a trip to The National Museum of Censored Art. And my favorite – The Chuck Norris Memorial! The weather is a little warm in Texas this time of year, but it shouldn’t get much above 130 degrees.
September 15, 2042
Dear diary: I hate my job! I thought my promotion to Second Junior Executive Assistant to the Associate Director for History Rewrite at Bible Thumpers, Inc., was really going to start me on the path to real success. But, it’s not a happy time. Mr. Wentworth, the Director of History Rewrite, feels my latest interpretations of “My Little Red State Book” by the Almighty Sarah Palin (bless her soul) sounded too liberal! The cad! How can he say something like that? “This is a kindergarten primer you’re working on here,” he said. “Do you want these innocent children to grow up to be Democrats?” (Shudder) Now he knows who I am for all the wrong reasons. I’m a marked man.
October 4, 2042
Dear Diary: I saw her again today. Same suit. Same mask. Same beach. I wanted so much to go up and introduce myself. Tell her I dream about her. Tell her I love her. Tell her I want to share all my low-carb, no-fat Blessings of God with her forever. But I just can’t get the courage to talk to her.
November 2, 2042
Dear Diary: Today was Resurrection Day and like all good Americans, I went to the polls to cast my vote of confidence. A glorious day indeed. I walked through the door of the polling station under the giant portraits of our founding fathers, Saint Cruz and Saint Rubio (bless their souls), who remade this great country in their image. I put a huge check mark in the Yes box, just like everyone else, and let the government know that I’m with them 100%. I feel sorry for all those other people in the world who don’t have the freedom to tell their government that they are happy. It makes me proud to be a New American. Of course, there had to be a dark cloud to ruin my day – Mr. Wentworth. I didn’t even know he lived in my neighborhood, but, there he was. Standing there, writing his big Yes check right next to me.
December 8, 2042
Dear Diary: The gossip around town today was just so unbelievable. People are claiming that the Global Warming is responsible for another 27 miles of South Florida disappearing under the sea. That just doesn’t sound right. I think it’s because South Florida is full of all those godless Democrats and it’s just God’s way of punishing them. Besides, we don’t have to worry about being flooded up here at the edge of the Great Ohio Desert so it’s their problem and not mine.
December 21, 2042
Dear Diary: We are all just getting ready for the Four Day Purge Us of Sin Because Christ Died for Us fasting, leading up to the celebration of our Lord’s Birth. This is a very tense time for everyone, knowing that we can’t eat for the next four days, but we do have that once-a-year treat to look forward to on Christmas Day that makes it all worthwhile – a real chocolate chip cookie! Mmmm….my mouth is already watering!
December 31, 2042
Dear Diary: Its New Year’s Eve and I finally did it. I saw her again today. Walking on the strand near the beach. Wearing that same figure-hugging green suit that drives me crazy. I couldn’t stand it anymore. I had to talk to her, tell her how I really felt, to gaze upon her face and have her wondrous beauty shine on me. What would I say? How would I act? More importantly, how would she react? I walked up and stood right in front of her. “I can’t hold this inside anymore. I love you. I dream about you all the time – day and night. I can’t live without you anymore. Please, show me your face and let me get lost in the deep pools of your mesmerizing eyes forever.” It was then that she finally took off her mask. She wasn’t what I expected. She wasn’t even a she. It was Mr. Wentworth! I’m a marked man.
January 1, 2043
Dear Diary: Mr. Wentworth and I celebrated the changing of the year in style. Real jelly beans. Honest to God grape juice. Glorious non-polluting fireworks. And when we woke up this morning and looked through our pictures from last night, I got a promotion! You are now looking at the FIRST Junior Executive Assistant to the Associate Director for History Rewrite at Bible Thumpers, Inc. I think it’s going to be a good year. Praise the Lord.