David Hughes

NOV. 4, 2008: John McCain takes the U.S. presidency with 277 electoral votes, winning Ohio and Florida by less than 1 percent of the vote. American policy on Iraq does not change.

JULY 14, 2009: While the price of gas hits five dollars per gallon in most American cities, the value of the dollar becomes exactly half the value of the euro. World travel becomes a luxury available only to the rich; on the upside, Northwest Airlines goes bankrupt.

OCT. 4, 2010:Canada legalizes the cloning of livestock for human consumption.

FEB. 1, 2011: North Korea initiates an open, cooperative relationship with Russia.

NOV. 6, 2012: Obama defeats the incumbent McCain in a landslide. However, the most curious aspect of the election is the candidacy of Digger True, a grassroots "blogucrat" who runs as an independent, solely using the Internet. True does not express any concrete views and does not participate in debates. Instead, he produces online supercuts of patriotic aphorisms, set to the music of Collective Soul. To the surprise of many in the mainstream media, True gets 3 percent of the popular vote. Blogucrat disciples begin petition drives advocating the elimination of copyright laws and the option of voting over the Web.

MAY 18, 2013: To the chagrin of his longtime supporters, President Obama concedes that U.S. troops can't be withdrawn from Iraq.

DEC. 31, 2014: Billed as "the floating Dubai," the inaugural space hotel opens its doors. Financed by Google, the cost is $2 million per room, per evening. Kanye West performs in the ballroom on opening night.

JUNE 15, 2015: The Paris Libertines defeat the London Plesiosaurs in the first NBA championship series featuring no American franchises.

SEPT. 12, 2016: Digger True enters the presidential race less than two months before Election Day, this time campaigning with wordless, randomly generated photographs of voters (aggregated from social networks and displayed in rapid, continuous succession on his Web site). Despite never appearing in public, True gets 22 percent of the vote, but Obama wins reelection.

AUG. 20, 2017: The first mainstream use of artificial intelligence becomes popular with consumers -- the ability to have realistic phone sex without another person.

JUNE 2, 2018: Summer movie audiences are entranced and titillated by Lars von Trier's Asking for It, an erotic thriller starring Christian Bale and Scarlett Johansson, set on the 110th floor of the World Trade Center on the morning of 9/11.

APRIL 15, 2019: No longer able to attract voters under the age of forty, the GOP absorbs the blogucratic faction and makes Digger True the de facto Republican candidate for 2020. True announces his reinvention on YouTube 3.1 by uploading a 4-D image of Abraham Lincoln copulating with a MacBook, synchronized to a live version of "Smack My Bitch Up" from the recent Prodigy reunion tour. Congress makes online voting legal in all fifty states.

NOV. 3, 2020: True becomes the first president of America's postliterate era. The outcome is bemoaned by The New York Times and The Washington Post, the only U.S. newspapers still printed on paper. President True does not appear in public for his entire tenure, communicating all public policy via screen grabs of Dakota Fanning, delivered through his Tumblr account.

AUG. 14, 2021: The final performance by the Rolling Stones in Wembley Stadium. Ticket prices start at $18,200, ultimately netting the band $1 billion.

DEC. 31, 2023: The U.S. relaxes after the hottest year in history, contributing to the death of more than eighty thousand citizens.

JUNE 14, 2024: Chinese researchers find a cure for AIDS.

AUG. 13, 2025: A surprising announcement comes from Johns Hopkins University: As it turns out, smoking cigarettes is kind of good for you.

SEPT. 25, 2026: A new folk hero captures the worldwide imagination when twenty-five-year-old British hand model Gretchen Tobias scales the east face of Mount Everest, without oxygen, totally naked.

JUNE 15, 2027: A startling revelation comes in the form of Obama's postpresidential autobiography, Cutting Backdoor: He admits that the decision to keep troops in Iraq was forced upon him by the Bilderberg Group, a secret society of world leaders who control the global economy. The book explains how Bilderberg's leadership concluded that the U.S. would not be prepared for a post-oil society for at least forty years; the only solution was to establish an American presence in the Middle East that provided unlimited access to petroleum, thereby staving off worldwide economic collapse. Three months after the book's release, Obama disappears in a mysterious boating mishap.

NOV. 7, 2028: Tom Brady (R-Michigan) defeats Will Smith (D-California) in the race for the Oval Office.

MAY 24, 2029: Eighty-eight-year-old Bob Dylan celebrates his birthday with the online release of "Oh, By the Way," a fourteen-minute song explicitly explaining the details of his 1966 motorcycle crash, his brief conversion to Christianity during the seventies, and what it was like to have sex with Joan Baez. When asked why he chose to release such personal material at this point in his life, Dylan cryptically replies, "That seems like a question you should be asking Bob Dylan."

MAY 8, 2030: A deathbed confession by George W. Bush reveals that JFK was, in fact, assassinated by the CIA.

SEPT. 2, 2031: A mysterious multiracial seven-foot man who refers to himself only as "B" shows up at NASA in Houston. He claims to be from the year 2131 and possesses blueprints for a time machine that will take a hundred years to build. After a closed-door twelve-minute meeting with President Brady, construction begins immediately.

JUNE 15, 2032: A virtual-reality amusement park in Berlin allows patrons to momentarily experience the sensation of death. Controversy explodes when studies indicate that almost 10 percent of those who participate in the simulation commit suicide within one year.

APRIL 5, 2033: In a moment reminiscent of Texas Western's 1966 victory over Kentucky, the all-black Kentucky Wildcats are upset in the NCAA basketball championship by the University of Portland, a school whose squad is composed entirely of Asians.

SEPT. 2, 2034: Another multiracial seven-foot man (this one calling himself "C") arrives at NASA and begs scientists to discontinue work on the time machine. He cannot explain why. The decision falls to President Brady, who ultimately concludes that the very presence of "B" and "C" dictates that the machine must be completed.

FEB. 14, 2036: Faced with the notion of "potential mammalian annihilation within fifty years," all First World nations agree to make climate change the lead focus of their scientific inquiry. Fearing this will slow down completion of the time machine, "B" anecdotally submits a process that could replenish the ozone layer. Soon after delivering this information, "B" murders "C." "B" chooses not to defend himself during his trial, saying only, "I have no regrets, except for those of all mankind." He is sentenced to prison and spends the next ten years writing his memoir, a manuscript he eventually destroys.

APRIL 8, 2037: Citing flawed financial management and waning public interest, Major League Baseball folds. The top 12 percent of U.S. players join clubs in the Dominican Republic.

DEC. 25, 2038: Working off the rudimentary plans explained by "B," scientists begin to molecularly stitch the ozone hole above the Arctic Circle.

JULY 11, 2039: Bill Clinton, ninety-two, dies on the same day Chinese Democracy II is released.

NOV. 2, 2040: Dana Dukakis (D-New Jersey) becomes the first open hermaphrodite to win a gubernatorial election.

JUNE 11, 2041: In a matter of weeks, the entire Internet is replaced by "news blow," a granular microbe that allows information to be snorted, injected, or smoked. Data can now be synthesized into a water-soluble powder and absorbed directly into the cranial bloodstream, providing users with an instantaneous visual portrait of whatever information they are interested in consuming. (Sadly, this tends to be slow-motion images of minor celebrities going to the bathroom.) Now irrelevant, an ocean of Web pioneers lament the evolution. "What about the craft?" they ask no one in particular. "What about the inherent human pleasure of moving one's mouse across a hyperlink, not knowing what a simple click might teach you? Whatever happened to ironic thirty-word capsule reviews about marginally popular TV shows? Have we lost this forever?" "You just don't get new media," respond the news-blowers. "You just don't get it."

APRIL 3, 2042: Scientists declare that repairs to the ozone layer are a complete success. Polar bears, now extinct in the wild, are reintroduced to their natural habitat.

JUNE 22, 2043: As predicted by Arthur C. Clarke in 3001: The Final Odyssey, the orbiting luxury hotel is connected to Earth by a massive space elevator. Hyperstrong cables anchored to the earth near the equator (as required by physics) stretch 100,000 kilometers into the sky, rising into the hotel's lobby.

SEPT. 19, 2044: Erasto Norman, the first black pope and an avid skiing enthusiast, is killed in an avalanche.

DEC. 1, 2045: A report from the American Medical Association expresses fear over the proliferation of news blow. "It appears," the report concludes, "that prolonged consumption of news blow renders the user incapable of relating to any person not engaged with an identical strain of the substance." Society is no longer separated by geography, culture, or language; humans now group themselves solely through the shared use of specific info drugs. A divide emerges between Americans on the West Coast (who primarily smoke news blow synthesized in rural California) and people living in the East (who snort a more potent strain developed in Baltimore). Over time, people in New York and Los Angeles find themselves unable to communicate about anything -- they now understand the most basic building blocks of information in totally different ways.

JUNE 22, 2046: At the World Games in Helsinki, U.S. sprinter Zeb Lovelace runs the 100 meters in an astounding 8.99 seconds. His record is later disqualified when testing proves that Lovelace had been injecting himself with self-duplicating DNA taken from the bone marrow of cheetahs.

JAN. 1, 2047: News blow continues to splinter society. Though technically still a union, the U.S. splits into two autonomous halves that have no relationship with each other. The same thing happens in Europe (now divided into seven vague provinces), Russia (which fractures into five regions), and Africa (which becomes five superstates, plus Madagascar). Select diplomats attempt to bridge the gaps by consuming multiple strains of news blow simultaneously, but these attempts lead to depression and catatonia.

NOV. 6, 2048: New York industrialist Roger Kracken wins the title of president and moves into the White House; however, he is a relatively unknown figure west of Missouri and wields no power whatsoever on the Pacific coast. The left half of the U.S. is governed by newly named Prime Minister Jamie Lynn Spears. Immigration effectively ends; service-industry jobs are now mostly performed by humanoid robots whose machinery is covered with individually cloned muscle fibers, synthetic skin, and animal hair.

MARCH 18, 2049: Sweden bans the consumption of animal flesh as food.

MAY 22, 2050: The darkest day in world history -- nuclear suitcase bombs are simultaneously detonated in Jerusalem, LAX airport, Moscow, Paris, Tokyo, and (somewhat oddly) Bangor, Maine, killing 370,000 people. Unable to effectively communicate diplomacy and confused by the terrorism's utter randomness, the entire planet adopts a policy of cultural isolationism and lukewarm war.

OCT. 2, 2051: In the new age of global remoteness, military strategy becomes murky. Conventional wisdom suggests Australia is the most important region, as it can only be invaded via Indonesia. Others point to South America, since it is vulnerable only to Central American freedom fighters or North African warlords. Everyone agrees that Europe is a waste of time.

2052 TO 2055: No recorded history.

NOV. 3, 2056: The reconstituted United States of America (once again a complete republic) holds its first meaningful election in twelve years. News blow has been criminalized as America enters the Reactionary Age, a period of intense morality and anti-intellectual rhetoric. The two presidential candidates -- human Tyrone Berkowitz and Cyborgic Construct "Terry 2" -- run clean, issue-oriented campaigns. Terry 2 wins a tight race, punctuating his victory thusly: "Those who attain wisdom through artificial intelligence are no different from the human brothers who offered them authentic life during the war that cannot be spoken of. We are all the better for this."

OCT. 12, 2057: Aided by a world currency that's backed by the diamond standard, global economies boom. The exploding new market is wind, now the primary source of energy in most of the industrialized world.

MAY 17, 2058: The Coca-Cola, a four-piece cyborgic musical act from Manchester, record and release twelve songs at the same time, a format that has not been used in more than four decades. The so-called "album" is titled We Exist Only to Rock You and is constructed after digital analysis of the most pleasing sonic elements off the Beatles' Revolver, Led Zeppelin's Physical Graffiti, Michael Jackson's Thriller, R.E.M.'s Murmur, and Brenda Kahn's Epiphany in Brooklyn. Cultural historian J.L. Dolan calls the work "an absolutely incredible achievement, except for all that shit about having an epiphany in Brooklyn. I didn't really follow that."

JULY 20, 2059: Exactly ninety years after Armstrong, astronauts from China land on the moon. They, however, do not leave. China immediately installs a community of both humans and robots on the lunar surface. A new space race begins.

JAN. 5, 2061: Chicago doctors perform the first successful brain transplant. The patient survives for sixty-one days, mostly in a state of perpetual terror and befuddlement.

AUG. 10, 2062: America lands on the moon. Two months later, Russia does the same. Germany and Japan arrive in December. Suddenly, five small biospheres populate the lunar surface. The purpose of this is unclear and widely debated.

OCT. 30, 2063: A team of Wisconsin researchers argue that Holstein cows can telepathically communicate with one another, often discussing their feelings and their plans for the day. The theory is dismissed.

JUNE 6, 2064: U.S. consumers become obsessed with "expectation entertainment": By stimulating obscure areas of the brain with low pulses of electricity, people can be given the sensation of how it feels just before the actual experience of something they enjoy (a concert, sex, a delicious meal, etc.). By focusing on the anticipation of an event (as opposed to creating the event itself), audiences are never disappointed.

DEC. 23, 2065: The moon population reaches one million. Its primary industries are mining and tourism.

FEB. 20, 2066: Super Bowl C: Dallas defeats Denver 31-17. The NFL, for whatever reason, is pretty much the same as it always was.

FEB. 27, 2067: A Melbourne Zoo gorilla named Maureen takes a standard IQ test and scores a 92. The Peter Singer Society, an Australian animal-rights group, immediately pushes for legislation that would grant citizenship to domesticated creatures.

AUG. 1, 2068: Census figures indicate A.I. cyborgs are now the largest minority in the United States, comprising 21 percent of the populace. Hispanics are next at 20 percent, followed by multiracial humans (17 percent), Euro-Americans (13 percent), African-Americans (11 percent), Asian-Americans (8 percent), and race-neutral clones (3 percent). The total U.S. population is 640 million.

AUG. 13, 2069: "B," the mysterious seven-footer who arrived at NASA thirty-eight years before, dies at his home in Reno, Nevada. Diaries discovered in his basement indicate the entire story might have been a hoax. Work on the time machine, however, continues as planned.

JUNE 5, 2070: Wolves in Canada begin hunting humans at an alarming rate. Shark attacks increase 40 percent. Jungle animals begin successfully infiltrating urban areas; a panther kills at least nine people in downtown Dallas. "I don't know why the animals are getting smarter," says zoologist Eli Sperle-Cho, "but it's definitely happening."

OCT. 19, 2071: An army of panda bears attacks Beijing, killing twelve hundred people and wounding thousands more during a bloody four-day onslaught.

APRIL 5, 2072: Animals are banned from the moon. House cats now kill more people than heart disease.

MAY 29, 2073: In a consolidated effort, America, China, Great Britain, and Russia declare war against the animals. It is decided that all military maneuvers will be conducted by robots.

2074 TO 2078: Robot vs. Animal War.

MAY 4, 2079: The Robot vs. Animal War concludes with the Kenya Peace Accords. The animals get Africa, Asia, North and South America, and Australia. Europe and Greenland are conceded to humans and nonhuman mechanical life. Antarctica is a free zone. The majority of remaining Earth people migrate to the moon, where overpopulation becomes an immediate problem.

JULY 6, 2080: The moon population hits eight billion. Most live in underground caves. Food is generated by the high-speed cloning of soy, rice, and headless chicken carcasses. Water is the most valuable commodity and backs the lunar currency.

NOV. 5, 2081: To slow oxygen consumption, moon inhabitants are ordered to remain relatively motionless for twenty hours a day. To compensate, every person is allowed to cerebrally download the complete memories of a fictional lifetime once a week; the populace now spends most of its time feeling nostalgic for things they did not actually do.

OCT. 20, 2082: Due to its surplus of frozen moisture, a decision is made to colonize Mars. Robotic and humanoid leaders agree to turn what remains of the moon into a massive military station, poised to resume a sky war against the animals and retake Earth by the turn of the twenty-second century.

SEPT. 15, 2083: The 150th anniversary issue of Esquire is made available via memory file -- an instantaneous burst of binary information that's absorbed through the retina from a disposable contact lens. It allows the consumer to "have read" every word from every issue of the publication's entire existence, and even experience the precise symptoms of Frank Sinatra's cold. The robots love it.

*****

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