A Most Perfect Genocide

So here I am, sitting in an ornately tooled leather chair, cask strength Scotch at my elbow, and a Cuban cigar on my lips. I puff and watch the rings of smoke rise towards the high ceiling and turn towards my comrades, and offer them my plan.

Yes, we have all been alarmed and disgusted by the seething creep of humanity’s dregs – so many people, such poor tastes, the piercings and tattoos and terrible music, their fecundity. We all know something must be done. This vast wide world should be our playground, with its verdant hills, snow-clad slopes, inviting waters – not a crowded asylum for the unwashed and unimaginative, for those who have no creative flair when it comes to the uses of power.

We know that for a while the many, in their illusions, have cherished their so-called individuality and autonomy. They have traveled far more widely than should have been their wont, and much less expensively than ever. The notions of justice and opportunity, equality and their unalienable rights … they never realized that these were a mere transient mirage. Perhaps we gave them a bit too much scope?

Nonetheless it’s time to rein them in, to show them who is who.

Our plan has long been in the making. We know how they think, how they lust, how they react, how they behave, we know how fearful they are at heart, and how gullible, how naive. We know how divisive they can be when goaded. We know how they take the bait.

And we’ve perfected the spectacle, have we not? The grand show, the shockful riveting event that mesmerizes and induces awe: a lone gunman on the sixth floor of the Texas School Books Depository in Dallas, journeys to the moon, uncannily but expertly commandeered jetliners crashing into the Twin Towers that crumble at the speed of gravity ...

But this, this must be our masterpiece, our perfect crime.

Although the Nazis achieved a great deal in the business of mechanical murder, their approach would never do. No, the world is far too large, and, furthermore, we like – we cherish – cleaner hands.

So we release a pathogen in an exotic faraway place. It’s not a particularly harmful one, this pathogen, though it can cause a certain amount of distress and suffering and even, in those who are not so healthy to begin with, death. Well, actually, we release this pathogen in a number of places, but to begin with, the narrative must be focussed. Wuhan, China. An inveterately repressive government and its henchmen who show the world how a plague can be combated, how dangerous it is, what measures must be taken. A model for the world at large!

People, globally, are imprisoned, confined, economies are broken, the threat and fear of death has become everything, and everyone accepts the sacrifices to be made. It’s for their health, is it not?

Certainly a few inordinately questioning doctors and the like will raise their doubts, will wonder why a ‘race for a cure’ was never on – but these are underlings, we’ll make sure to keep them in line, with all their queries about our science and our proposed solution, which is the jab. And if they make a peep about informed consent, or treatment, we will turn the tables: how dare they endanger the public? How can they be fit to practice with such views? The organizing bodies that dole out their licenses will well know what to do.

When the inoculations are ready, the masses will be so fearful that even pregnant women who daren’t drink a drop of coffee while carrying will welcome an untested gene-altering immune-system decimating jab.

However, like people, all jabs will not be equal: some will only show their harm over time, after many years, while others will be far more immediately devastating. Different batches, different lots: a stroke of brilliance.

We call them vaccines, in keeping with the accepted warmth with which childhood vaccinations have been received for many years, even though these new ‘vaccines’ will work far differently. In fact, they really won’t protect a person from acquiring the illness, nor prevent a person from transmitting it.

No matter. Definitions may be redefined! Sudden or gradual, their deleterious effects will not be challenged.

We know full well how complex a subject is causality in medicine. Who’s to say why one has a stroke, a heart attack? So many factors to consider, so hard to prove a case against a single one ... What fun we will have, what mirth, watching the investigators as they try to track things down!

The masses will be grateful for our concern, for the harsh benevolence of their governments, their medical authorities, their beloved trusted media.

And over time they drop, they sicken, singly and in multitudes, over years.

It won’t be the cleanest of slates, but more a winnowing, a prudent cut.

And then?

We’ll have to keep an eye on the insurgents, on the refuseniks, on the demonstrably unjabbed, lest their concerns catch on among the dwindled multitude. There won’t be many, will there? And they’ll be easily identified.

Meanwhile we dream. Our wealth has tripled. We merge our mechanistic view of life with our machines. We then become, I think, forever. Those others who survive, won’t they be grateful then to serve?

A warm murmur of agreement rumbles through the club, glasses are clinked, more cigars are clipped, juveniles are ready at our beck and call.

‘What shall we call it, gentlemen?’ I ask.

It takes a while … we quibble long into the night and day with ‘reset’, ‘cleansing’, ‘renaissance’ and even the distasteful ‘genocide’. But whatever term we use we are agreed: it is most perfect.

Isn’t it?

Emanuel E. Garcia, M.D.

March 2023