The Future of The Republic - Your Future
Kevan James
November 17, 2024.
In 2017, I published the first edition of my book, Comments of a Common Man. The book was updated in 2018 and again - the last time - in September 2019. Since then there have been obvious changes to everything, starting just six months later, in March 2020.
The book is a commentary on life today, with a bit of historical fact thrown in, and needs updating. So a fourth edition will be forthcoming at some point. In the meantime, I have updated one small part of it, extracted below.
Keep in mind please - the only change made to this from the 2019 version is the name of the President and his Successor - nothing else. It it otherwise just as I originally wrote it in 2019...
How did I know?
You may well ask...
Cuthbert Jones-Smyth reached into his pocket, took out his identity card and hung it around his neck using the officially issued lanyard. He always did when travelling, whether by bus, air (even though that was severely restricted in today’s world) or, as now, by train. Nobody of course, had cars anymore. They had been banned a while back, except of course, for use by government officials and the state security service. He looked back at the lengthy queues at the bus stops outside the station. It always took a while to get on a bus now; firstly one had to go through the security check before getting to the stop itself and then there was the wait for a bus to actually arrive.
At least he would be travelling today since the train crews were not on strike, although inevitably, they were running late. He glanced up at the rolling news screens on the station concourse – an announcement was due from the President, broadcast by the single state-run TV and radio station that now existed. That’s why the trains were late; everything stopped when the President made one of his announcements. He glanced around briefly; everybody had their eyes fixed on the screen as the face of President Starmer appeared.
“My fellow citizens,” he said smoothly, his voice echoing slightly around the concourse.
“Today is yet another great day in our country’s history. As you know, since I became President, we have revolutionised the way in which we do things. Our policies of state control over everything, including the automation of almost every job, has meant wonderful Citizens Dividend payments to you all so that you can enjoy your daily lives…”
Cuthbert risked a quick look at the station shops, all permanently closed now, as they had been for a long time. Only the state-run news store was open. His gaze returned to the big screen as President Starmer continued.
“I have dedicated my life to the service of you all and I am pleased to say that our country is the socialist utopia we promised you, that your safety has been maintained…” Out of the corner of his eye, Cuthbert noticed the dark-shirted, uniformed security service officers hustling away a woman who had been caught not watching and listening to the President. She would be taken…somewhere.
Nobody knew where, or if she would ever be seen again - probably not. He kept his face looking at the screen as President Starmer went on.
“As you know, in order to protect you and for you to be safe, I was forced to cancel the general elections that were due to be held on the past two occasions due to security fears. I regret to have to tell you that I am obliged to do the same now and this year’s general election will not be held as we have not yet defeated the enemies of the state. The internet and social media will remain closed for the same reason. Today however, marks a new dawn in the history of the Republic of England. I have done my part and its time for me to step down and make way for my chosen successor. I have anointed my Vice-President and Chancellor, Rachel Reeves, to take over from me and she will assume the position of President one month from today. I will broadcast to you again a little closer to the time, with Rachel at my side, as she has been since we swept to power all those wonderful years ago and transformed our country. Thank you.”
Cuthbert sighed. No surprises there then. Not for the first time, he wondered if it really was Starmer since nobody had actually seen him for years. Mind you, the same applied to Reeves. Today’s technology meant it would be easy to produce a totally convincing computer-generated version of the President for these broadcasts. Even more so since the state had taken all aspects of that technology under its direct control – get caught with it yourself, at home or elsewhere and that was you swallowed into the dark maw of the state, never to be seen again.
He headed towards the security channels, pausing by a map of the country. Well, at least he wasn’t going far, even if it did take six hours these days to take the train from London to Northampton. At the far north, the bright blue outline of the European Province of Scotland stood out; to the west, the red of the European Region of Wales. Further west, across the sea, the green of the United Irish Republic, both again outlined in the dark blue of their European provincial status. He took his place in the queue at security and smiled at the security officer doing spot checks on the people waiting.
“Papers!” barked the officer as he reached Cuthbert, who held out his ID card on its lanyard. The officer snapped to attention. “Sir! Please…come with me, you don’t have to wait with the rest.”
“I know,” replied Cuthbert. “But I prefer to, it helps me in my work since I have to deal with ordinary people.”
The security officer leaned forward slightly, his voice lowered. “I really must insist Sir. It’s not acceptable for a senior Government official to be mixed in…” he looked at the queue with obvious distaste. “…with ordinary people like this.”
“Is that an instruction, Officer?” asked Cuthbert.
“Well, I wouldn’t put it quite like that, Sir,” replied the officer. “But I have my orders.”
Cuthbert sighed again. “Oh well. I wouldn’t want you to get into trouble so lead on then.”
The officer smiled. “Excellent Sir. I’ll have you on the train very quickly.”
“What about these people?”
The officer shrugged indifferently. “Some will get on, some won’t.”
They approached the expansive security check booth. The officer running it looked closely at Cuthbert’s ID and checked his name was on the list of those supposed to be travelling and with approval to do so.
“Yes, you are here,” he said, almost in monotone. “I see you booked nice and early. Very wise Sir. I see also you are travelling to see your Mother?”
Cuthbert nodded. “Yes, she will be fifty years old next week so this is the last chance I will have to see her before she goes for state euthanasia. I need to say goodbye.”
“My empathies, Sir - still, as loyal citizens we’ll all be going there. We can’t have old people clogging up the health system, using up scarce food supplies or taking up valuable living space, can we Sir?”
“Indeed not, Officer.”
The first officer then indicated the VIP entry. “Come along then Sir, I’ll escort you to your seat on the train. Might be a while before it goes though. Still, at least you can wait comfortably.”
“Thank you,” replied Cuthbert.
He took a swift look back at the waiting queue. Most looked careworn and underfed. Resigned to doing what they were told to do. They looked old. As the officer with the list had implied, some of them looked like they were getting close to fifty. Maybe it was just the way their lives were these days.
It made them look older. Nobody actually got old now though.
Unless you were the President, that is.
© Kevan James 2017-2019, 2024
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