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  Frank instilled in me the habit of keeping a journal. He said it works better if you do it in longhand, pen on paper, in a small notebook. I started doing it when I was a junior, in 2012. I was still keeping a journal when I graduated with a bachelor’s degree, in 2013. Ever since then, I’ve started a new one at the beginning of every year. So I have thirteen different little spiral notebooks on the shelf, each dated 2012, 2013, 2014 … and so on.

  As you can see by the date, I hadn’t yet started the journal for 2025. I don’t know why. Usually I’ve tried to pen the first entry on New Year’s Day. Maybe I was just abnormally lethargic this year.

  Never mind, here’s the first entry, halfway through the month. And I’ve got great news! I think I’m going to quit my job tomorrow! The economy is in the shit-hole, unemployment is 30-something %, I have no savings, no alternate plan … and I’m going to quit my job.

  And you know what? It’s going to feel damned good. I’m going to tell that asshole boss of mine where to stick it. It’s something I’ve wanted to do for months. No more interviewing idiots who are famous for being famous, no more hunting for scandals, no more unscrupulous yellow journalism.

  So what am I going to do instead?

  I don’t know! Isn’t that great?

  I can always try to be that serious investigative reporter I saw myself being when I got out of college. Or I can write that important American novel no one will read. Who knows? Maybe I’ll just sit on the sofa, watch TV, and drink my last bottle of Jack Daniels.

  Hey, sounds like a plan! For now, anyway.

  But first I have to go do one more bullshit job for Celebrity Trash. I’ve already committed to ride out to the LA Arena tonight to cover Saint Lorenzo’s “concert,” if you can call it that. What can I say? I keep my promises.

  Later, man.

  TWO

  JANUARY 14, 2025

  Ben Walker checked the fuel level on his vintage 1967 BSA Spitfire 650 and figured he had enough to get to the LA Arena and back. Ever since the price of gasoline skyrocketed about ten years earlier, travel by personal vehicle had become a luxury few people could afford. Gas stations—the small number across the country that stayed open—received a supply once a month and it was gone in a day. State governments had instituted different levels of strict rationing, forcing families to make do with buying gas every two months. People lined up for blocks, hoping to buy three or four gallons, just so they could get to work—if they had jobs. Public transportation facilities were given something of a break. City bus companies received a state-allotted amount, but a one-way ride on the damned things cost around $10. Walker hadn’t necessarily had the foresight of what was to come when he restored the motorcycle back when he was in college. It turned out to be one of the more fortuitous things he’d ever done. The Spitfire got fifty-sixty miles per gallon; with the bike’s four-gallon capacity, a tank could last him a month. As long as he used the bike only for work.

  Work. What a joke.

  Walker called himself a journalist, but he didn’t do the kind of writing he had envisioned back at USC. As a twenty-one-year-old, cocky but naïve college graduate, he had visions of accepting a Pulitzer one day for investigative reporting. Instead, with the collapsed economy, the extinction of newspapers and magazines, and the dumbing-down of America, the only “news” people wanted to hear was not the typically bad truths coming out of Washington and the rest of the globe, but ridiculous celebrity and pop culture garbage that had no relevance in the real world. Hence, the only work Walker could find was penning junk for an online site called, appropriately, Celebrity Trash.

  As he had just written in his journal that morning, Walker was committed to covering the LA Arena performance by the new ten-year-old evangelist sensation, Saint Lorenzo. Professing to be a faith healer, little Lorenzo had captured the public’s imagination because everyone just wanted something to believe in. Things had gotten so bad in America that a guy as crackpot as Saint Lorenzo was more newsworthy than anything the president of the United States had to say. While he was growing up, Walker had noticed how when things got really bad, nearly everyone became even more desperate in turning to religion as the answer to their problems. The government couldn’t save them from unemployment, shortage of food and water, and of course, lack of their beloved gasoline, so why not little Saint Lorenzo?

  As Walker rode down from his home in the Hollywood Hills into the stinking metropolis, he reminded himself there was at least one good thing about the energy crisis—there were fewer cars on the road. And yet, all around him were more sobering reminders of America’s depressed condition. Strip malls had become parking lots for the homeless. Movie theaters were empty and the studios couldn’t afford to make product. LA was no longer the entertainment capital of the world. The once elite Hollywood nightclubs had either closed or become even more choice locations for the very, very rich. Not that being wealthy did one much good these days. Anyone with serious money had become a pariah. The wealthy took their lives in their own hands if they ventured out in public. One of the few businesses that prospered in the last ten years was the security profession. The fancy homes in Beverly Hills had become fortresses. Bodyguards could easily find work. Too many fat cats had found themselves attacked and murdered on the streets for their Rolex watches or for what was in their wallets. Crime was at an all-time high.

  Billboards along the Sunset Strip no longer advertised blockbuster movies or television shows; instead they were simply blank or covered with graffiti. The exception was a pristine display for controversial talk-show host and blogger, Horace Danziger. It was a gigantic photo of the celebrity, pointing a finger straight at the camera. A word bubble proclaimed: “Are you as pissed off as I am?” Danziger had become a media sensation by being one of the few outspoken critics of North Korea, as well as slamming the U.S. government for not doing anything about it. Nothing was sacred for Danziger—he attacked everyone. Walker both admired and was jealous of Danziger. That was the kind of journalism Walker wanted to do.

  And then there was the Korean presence. Everywhere Walker looked, there were signs of Kim Jong-un’s superiority in the global markets. Where once upon a time it was Japan that had exported much of what America consumed, now it was Korea. Just about every electronic component these days was made in Korea or its member states, the various countries that fell in line with the regime. American automobiles were a thing of the past. All new cars—for anyone foolish enough to buy one—came from the Far East, mostly Korea.

  There was no doubt, though, that ever since the charismatic leader managed to reunite North and South Korea back in 2013, the “Greater Korean Republic” had become a world power—and an international threat. Kim Jong-un spent the last several years preaching cooperation and peace, but most everyone in America, including Walker, smelled a rat. The so-called “reunification” of North and South Korea was looked at by most Western countries as a “takeover.” And then when the country declared war on Japan in 2018, it was obvious that Kim was up to no good. Unfortunately, America had lost its standing as the symbol of democracy and freedom in the world. With its collapsed economy and reduced military presence around the globe, the United States was the object of pity—and distress, considering how important the country’s economy was to the world.

  As Walker merged onto I-110, heading south toward the Arena, he reflected on how his and every other American’s life had changed in a short thirteen years. In 2012, the country suffered a major economic downturn as a result of complex derivatives coming due. The government’s credit with lenders finally dried up. Walker was still in college at the time, so he paid no attention to the major military policy changes. The armed forces and advisors pulled out of Iraq, Afghanistan, and other key strategic locations in the Middle East, Europe, and Asia. Even defense procurement aid to Israel began phasing out and quickly came to an end.

  In 2013, the year Walker graduated with his bachelor’s, the oil prices spiraled out of control, leading to a true bre
akdown of the economy within a six-month period. The U.S. was completely unprepared for the lack of oil and the country’s modern way of life declined irrevocably. The American dollar dropped considerably in value, leading markets to crash around the world. The end result was protectionism, economic nationalism, and race and trade wars between old allies and foes alike. Needless to say, Walker found it difficult to find a job in journalism.

  Words between nations got ugly in 2014. While Walker worked at a hamburger joint in Los Angeles, the U.S. and Japan accused each other of unacceptable imposition of duties on imports in order to protect respective domestic industries. The two countries couldn’t find common ground in sharing the burden of their shaky military alliance; this chasm slowly led to a break in the U.S.-Japan coalition. By then, North and South Korea had reunited, so the American presence in South Korea was deemed unnecessary (and unwanted). The same thing happened in Japan. A combination of the decline of global economy and the emergence of modern asymmetric warfare led to a new kind of military—light, fast, and heavily automated. Drones and other unmanned vehicles were the key components. The large scale United States military of the past disappeared. In Walker’s view, America was sent away with her tail between her legs.

  Meanwhile, back home, General Motors declared bankruptcy for the last time. The federal government refused to step in again, and unemployment in Michigan reached 44 percent.

  In 2015, the United States protested human rights violations in Korea and attempted to bring attention to Kim Jong-un’s growing threat. There was no international support to act against the Asian nation. That same year, the USS Theodore Roosevelt and USS John C. Stennis aircraft carriers were decommissioned as a part of widespread reduction in high expenditure capital ships. Later in the year, other major ships were also removed from active duty as cheaper drones took a more prominent role.

  Walker distinctly remembered these events because this was also the year America’s total unemployment rate tipped 30 percent and the stock market plummeted. Gasoline hit a dreaded $12/gallon mark. The rationing laws began. Walker lost his job and spent three months bumming around Europe. He returned to the States just in time for the so-called “Wal-Mart Riots.” Due to an economic crisis in China, certain medicines and other vital products were no longer available. Angry customers demanded what they had become accustomed to, and the fallout was disastrous. Ironically, many suburbs, not the inner cities, were the first to burn.

  Miraculously, Walker fell into a job as a real reporter for a news website operating out of LA. One of his first stories, in 2016, concerned how Madison Square Garden, the United Center in Chicago, The Palace in Detroit, and other large indoor stadiums in the northern U.S. were turned into “Federal Heating Centers.” Even with this action, the winter of 2016–2017 claimed over 178,000 American lives. Warmer states such as Texas, Florida, and California enacted strict new interstate immigration laws to curb the influx of homeless Northerners. Walker also covered an incident in which Texas state troopers opened fire on a bus of Chicago inner city youth who had commandeered a bus with stolen gasoline. Fourteen were killed. The president ordered the National Guard to restore order but many local troops refused to act against their own states’ men. It was a mess.

  Things went from bad to worse in 2017. As a result of the inability to finance its debts and the rapid decline of income tax revenues, federal and state governments were unable to maintain basic infrastructure and some essential services. The interstate highway system and national power grid fell apart. Riots and looting broke out across the country. A conglomerate of Silicon Valley businesses hired Xe Services (formerly known as Blackwater Worldwide) to bring order and control to a narrow slice of California real estate. Ironically, these companies continued to create high-tech components and sell them to Japan—all of which ended up in the hands of the Koreans.

  The Great Arab War—named as such by Western media—between the likewise ignorantly designated “Arab Holy Alliance” (Saudi Arabia, Syria, Jordan, Egypt, and Turkey) and other Muslim nations (Iran, Afghanistan, and Iraq) had broken out in 2016, so by 2017 the price of petroleum shot up to its current rate of $20/gallon. The U.S. military was forced to close its Asian bases due to sharp cuts in military budgets, rising global anti-U.S. sentiments, and the failing economy. A spike of nationalism in Japan resulted in the U.S.-Japan military alliance finally expiring for good. The U.S. Navy’s vastly diminished Pacific Fleet was consolidated to Pearl Harbor, the first time since World War II.

  Walker often questioned the wisdom of getting married to his now ex-wife Rhonda just as all hell broke loose in Asia in 2018, when the Greater Korean Republic declared war on Japan. Large numbers of American citizens in Japan were taken hostage by Korea. The two governments came to an agreement to return the U.S. captives, but only in small numbers at a time due to the costs involved. With a population of hundreds of thousands of Americans in Japan and Korea, it was expected to take over ten years to return everyone.

  Even in the face of likely Korean aggression, America’s military spending was drastically reduced to a level that meant running the most essential overseas bases in Europe was too expensive. Throughout 2019, the United States once again attempted to garner international support against Korea, but with little success given its internal situations and global economic issues.

  In the meantime, Walker and his bride struggled with the challenge of surviving as a couple in a world in which any morning could bring some new disaster. Incongruously, Rhonda wanted children—Walker couldn’t see the point.

  Aside from the screaming matches, it was an amicable divorce.

  In 2020, martial law was instituted in parts of America to control riots over crime and massive goods shortages caused by the increasingly devastating global energy crisis. The petroleum-based calamity was a main contributor in the continuing decline of the economy from the previous decade. The nation saw a massive migration of population, unseen since the Great Depression, away from cold climates toward major cities and coastal towns. Personal transportation and ostentatious housing became a thing of the past. Many suburbs were unsustainable. America became littered with seas of abandoned suburban neighborhoods and overpopulation in the cities.

  Walker’s mother died and left him the house in the Hollywood Hills, which he embraced as a hermit’s hovel. It was a lifesaver for him. By then, his job as a reporter had dried up and he was forced to take whatever he could get—such as covering crap for Celebrity Trash.

  Further catastrophe struck in 2021, when the so-called “Knoxville Fever” erupted in Tennessee and quickly spread across the country. A particularly virulent strain of the seasonal flu, it moved across the population and wiped out six million American lives. The government was unable to appropriately respond. There were rumors that it was caused by an engineered virus from an unfriendly nation—but that was never proven. Nevertheless, with limited medicine available for most of the nation, the Fever remained a menace well into 2023. Knoxville, Little Rock, Memphis, and Akron became ghost towns as nearly the entire populace succumbed to the disease. Where the disease wasn’t present, martial law eventually proved ineffective. Local municipalities took on responsibility for their own governance and security. Some locales did better than others, with the worst areas descending into violent anarchy.

  All the while, immigration wars along borders raged. Mexican gangs wreaked havoc by conducting raids on U.S. border towns. Canada was forced to protect its borders from Americans fleeing a frail country.

  Walker reflected that things had remained relatively stable since 2023. On the positive front, Korea had agreed to use converted cargo ships to return the American citizens from territories controlled by the Greater Korean Republic—which by then included Japan, Malaysia, Indonesia, the Philippines, Thailand, Cambodia, and Vietnam. On the negative side, the fact that the Greater Korean Republic existed at all was a worry on everyone’s mind. The anti-American rhetoric, the aggressive takeovers in the name of “peace,�
�� and the military dominance in the Far East reminded historians all too well of a certain German dictator who had caused a bit of trouble in the mid-twentieth century.

  Screw ’em, Walker thought. He had never liked the Koreans. His feelings harked back to an inherent mistrust of the race in Walker’s family—his grandfather had died in the Korean War of 1950–1953.

  Today it was all about getting through one day at a time. Walker, at thirty-four, had no living parents or siblings. Rhonda had remarried long ago and they rarely spoke. It was a good thing he owned outright his small house in the Hills. He had for years taught himself to cut back and require little in the way of small pleasures. He got by.

  Walker arrived at the Arena in plenty of time before Saint Lorenzo’s act. A good portion of the parking lots were still occupied by people living in beat-up cars and motor homes. They either had no other housing or were stranded because they couldn’t afford gas to keep moving. The enclaves had become little communes with fences built around them for dubious protection. They may as well have been deemed “slums.”

  He waved his press pass at the three guards blocking the entrance to the real parking lot, and then drove to the area where other motorbikes were parked. He stopped, claimed a space, and chained it to the pole in the ground to keep it from being stolen. As he walked toward the front doors, Walker nearly laughed when he saw the huge line of fools who had paid hard-earned money to hear the kid speak. The crippled, the blind, the deaf, the diseased—all hoping for a chance to be “cured.”

  What a load of bullshit …

  “You going in to see Saint Lorenzo?”

  Walker turned to see a young man in his mid-twenties. Clean-cut, with some facial hair. Not a homeless person.

  “I’m a reporter. I’m covering the show,” Walker answered.

  The man nodded and then indicated the line of misfits. “I was curious about him, you know, but after seeing all of them I’m having second thoughts.”