Subject: The Future of Humanity—Not Your Technocratic Playground
Dear Bill and Elon,
I know what you’re planning. The writing’s on the wall, and it’s been there since the first microchip. You two, and your billionaire club of technocratic overlords, are building your escape hatch—Mars, a new South Africa for the ultra-wealthy, while you leave the rest of us behind on a dying rock ruled by your A.I. enforcers.
I’ve seen this script before. I lived it in Terminator 2—a movie that was meant to warn people about the dangers of unchecked technological power, not give you the blueprints for your goddamn Skynet. And now you’re moving toward Revelation 9—200 million soldiers, only they won’t be human, will they? They’ll be robots, mindless enforcers, programmed to keep us in line while you sip synthetic cocktails under a Martian dome.
And Elon, don’t even try to play this off as some weird joke, like you did with that Nazi salute. You and your X app, your Mars colonies, your new apartheid system—it’s not some coincidence. You were born in South Africa, and now you’re building a new one, but this time, you want the entire Earth under the boot of your technocratic rule.
As for you, Bill—your vaccines, your patents on food, your push for digital IDs—it all leads to one thing: control. You don’t want to save humanity; you want to own it.
And before you even think about brushing this off as some rant, remember American History X. That movie wasn’t a how-to guide—it was a warning. You can’t run from the past, and you sure as hell can’t run from the future you’re creating. You want to fuck off to Mars? Fine. But the rest of us aren’t going to be left here to rot in your techno-dystopia without a fight.
This isn’t over.
Edward Furlong
(AKA John Connor—You might remember him.)