Grand Charade

In the early 21st Century, democracy had devolved into a hollow performance, a spectacle designed to placate a population that no longer understood what freedom truly meant. Elections were carefully choreographed farces, with predetermined outcomes dressed up as choice. The illusion of participation pacified the masses, who had long since lost the capacity to question anything beyond what they were spoon-fed by the ever-present screens that dominated their lives.

The White House, once a symbol of power and integrity, had become nothing more than a stage for a scripted production. Press briefings were a dark parody of what they used to be, now little more than carefully rehearsed monologues recited by polished actors who called themselves officials. Every word that left their lips had been meticulously crafted by teams of spin doctors, not to inform but to deceive. Journalists, or at least those who still bore the title, sat obediently in their rows, nodding along, asking pre-approved questions with answers already prepared.

The reporters knew their role in this grand charade. Most had become mere puppets, their strings pulled by the tech companies and corrupt politicians who controlled the narrative. The few who dared to deviate from the script found themselves silenced, their reputations shattered by the media machine they had once been a part of.

It wasn’t that the people didn’t care—they did, or at least they used to. But years of relentless propaganda had worn them down. Most couldn’t remember a time when the truth wasn’t dictated to them through pixelated smiles on glowing screens. Literacy had plummeted; critical thinking was all but extinct. The average citizen consumed content, not information. They accepted what they were told, too distracted, too overwhelmed, or too afraid to question it.

And so, control was maintained. The powerful spoke in riddles, wrapped in half-truths and outright lies, knowing that no one would dare untangle the web. The public, reduced to little more than passive observers in their own lives, nodded along, blissfully unaware that the world they thought they understood was nothing but a carefully constructed illusion.