Countdown to Doomsday Begins: A Tale of Hope and Despair
Will this be how the world ends? JL and his wife, Lisa, are on the run as if their lives depend on it. And it does. Navigating through a world of famine, death, war and pestilence, they search for a safe place, as their Florida home becomes too dangerous. In Louisiana, a young woman is on the run for her life. Will their paths ever cross? Stay connected for each new chapter.
Countdown to Doomsday Begins: A Tale of Hope and Despair
Tragedy and Resilience: Stories from a Dystopian Tomorrow
What if the world you knew changed overnight? This episode plunges into a chilling dystopian reality, starting with the tragic story of Mandy in New Orleans. Her journey ends abruptly, leaving behind a newborn whose cries lead to an unexpected guardian. As the nation spirals into chaos, a drastic executive order suspends constitutional rights and establishes a civil militia, painting a grim picture of civil unrest. Meanwhile, in Kansas, Sylvie faces the heart-wrenching challenge of her daughter's battle with End Stage Unabated COVID, showcasing the deep desperation and struggles in a world turned upside down.
Our exploration doesn't stop there. We bring you the wisdom of Uglut, an Inuit Shaman from Iqaluit, Nunavut Territory. On August 25, 2034, she shares her community's stories of survival and adaptation amidst dramatic environmental changes. Uglut's reflections on the resilience of the Inuit people and the evolving wildlife offer a poignant perspective on climate change. From the stark realities of a global pandemic to the enduring spirit of an ancient people, this episode weaves together tales of tragedy, resilience, and the relentless pursuit of hope in the face of overwhelming adversity. Tune in for an unforgettable journey through a world teetering on the brink.
A Tale of Four Cities. Imagine it's a stormy Saturday night on the 24th of July 2027. As you push open the door to the Dancing Pelican Lounge, located on the fringe of the Latin Quarter in New Orleans, the air conditioner over the door is sounding a gasping death rattle. Oscar, the bartender, watched the young woman and her glass, paused halfway between countertop and lips Once he'd asked her what her name was Mandy, she said. Said, but he knew that was her working name. He looked at her now, clutching a throwaway phone, waiting for a call that would never come. Once described as drop-dead gorgeous, she wore a stained dress, hair uncombed. Her translucent skin wrapped her in the appearance of death. The bartender knew whoever might call a drugged out working girl who'd recently given birth was no longer seen as a hot commodity. She frowned, slamming the phone on the counter. Oscar walked over to her. Are you okay? He sensed something was bothering her. I have this form, they say. I gots to put down a name for my baby. Do you have one in mind? Oscar tried to sound as if he cared. He liked her, but shrugged his shoulders to the reality that working girls come and go can't think of nothing, she said. Oscar, with no answer, nodded and left to wait on a new customer. Mandy watched his back and turned to her left. Liquor bottles stood at attention like soldiers. A diffused light made them stand out. Her eyes landed on a particular bottle. Squinting, she stared at the label Klua. It sat next to a bottle of Bowles' Triple Sec. Don't know nothing about fancy drinks, she thought. Good enough. She muttered aloud, reaching for a pencil to fill out the application for the birth registration. First name Kalua, last name Bowles.
Speaker 1:Three weeks passed before a scavenger found a woman's body in the dumpster. A short time later the police responded to a complaint at a boarding house that baby's been crying a long time, the landlord said. When asked, he said he didn't know the name of that baby's been crying a long time, the landlord said. When asked, he said he didn't know the name of the baby's mother. Working girls tend not to give out their real name, he said. He ran his fingers through his snowing white hair. People tell me I look like Einstein. The officer waited, wondering who Einstein was. I may have the name of the grandmother somewhere. Police identified themselves when they located Mother Celie. Most people call me Uma. I prefer Safda that's Hebrew for grandmother. After the police left, mother Celie began sucking on a fist, making a gurgling sound. Mother Celie knew the baby's names on the birth certificate were just plain wrong. She considered a proper name for her granddaughter and finally decided on Swahili for Black Cat. That sounds right. She said to the newborn I'm going to call you Cat with a K, no-transcript.
Speaker 1:The couple in their mid-50s sat waiting for official news from the president. It was the 20th of July 2029. This is UNN News reporting from an undisclosed location. The press secretary gripped the podium signaling her distress At noon today. She said the president signed an executive order during a virtual press conference held at the White House top-secret emergency room in West Virginia After the riots. The spokesperson added the executive order creates a new civil administrative militia.
Speaker 1:After months of civil unrest, pockets of resistance continue. Each state will organize militia to establish territorial control. The commandant of each territory will supervise local militias as they assume total police duties. In a rare appearance the president said To combat lawlessness, I have ordered a fast-track judicial system. I will restore total order by suspending all constitutional rights immediately. We will not allow the gangsters calling themselves the Sacred Resistance to continue themselves. The sacred resistance to continue. All militias will be armed with the authority to carry out immediate summary executions. Picture the kitchen of a modest home in Martinsville, kansas. The date is the 20th of January 2033.
Speaker 1:Sylvie was a single mom playing the shitty poker hand of her life, but she never complained and had a ready smile for her daughter, emma, who was just now bounding in for breakfast. This morning was no exception. Money was well scarce. No use complaining. It was the same for just about everyone else. A church in the next block had a food pantry and the pastor told her it didn't matter if she wasn't a church member. You and your daughter are God's children, he would keep telling her. This morning, however, none of that mattered when she spotted the gray discoloration on her daughter's arm and she whispered a silent scream. Silly, didn't want to alarm Emma, but she said to herself three weeks, three weeks. The countdown timer had started. Her friend Candy had kept telling her she was in denial, but Sylvia thought denial wasn't a bad place to live these days. Candy told her to get back to reality and Sylvia answered with that famous line I'll only go as a tourist.
Speaker 1:A week went by and gray blotches spread to Emma's arms and legs, even parts of her face. Two weeks. Sylvia thought Two weeks. No, sylvie refused to look in the mirror or examine her own body for similar gray spots. But she could no longer deny the truth. She opened the drawer and reached for the government brochure and, turning to page 27, frequently asked questions. Turning to page 27, frequently Asked Questions EUC or End Stage Unabated COVID. Since 2019 and the classification of COVID-19, 86 variants evolved to include hundreds of sub-variants. The latest end-stage unabated COVID had no vaccine or treatment.
Speaker 1:She read the brochure 1. The first appearance of gray spots on the face marked death within 23 days. On the face marked death within 23 days. 2. The second symptom burgundy colored spots on elbows and knees denotes death within hours. Placing the brochure on the kitchen counter, sylvie watched rapidly spreading gray and burgundy spots now covering Emma's body. Sylvie was viewing her worst nightmare Mama, mama. Emma said you're covered too.
Speaker 1:That night after prayers, sylvie and Emma held each other tight. The government said it doesn't really taste bad. Sylvie said it's even cherry flavored. Sylvie measured the doses, adding extra to be sure, and, as instructed, she called the medical examiner to leave a recorded message the following morning, responding to the address on the message Sylvie left. The medical examiner, wearing protective gear looked at two bodies, arms wrapped tightly around each other. His voice was laced with anguish when he said I'll never get used to this. We still have two more stops. His assistant said. Then we can take them all to the crematorium. With that, sylvia and Emma became two of millions, succumbing to a pandemic without end.
Speaker 1:Iqaluit Nunavut Territory. It's the 25th of August 2034. It's the 25th of August 2034. This is a CBC special interview about life. This is an interview with Uglut, an Inuit Shaman. My name has aligned with the constellation of the seal. I've counted my lunar months and I am now an old woman, but I still hear echoes of whispered stories passed down from the ancients. In the beginning they said the green earth turned white, grass became snow and over time Inuit, natsilic Inuit and Caribou Inuit learned the ways of cold and snow. Now an elder tells me he dreamt of the fierce greenland bears turning from white to brown. Water is trickling from the ice, there are signs of white turning back to green now and those fierce white bears have shades of brown. But it is our inuit way to adapt.