They want us dead.

UBI is not coming. Darwinism is. In a big way. Gradually and then suddenly. Fucking do something.

(“Tired Angel” by Stella Stillwell)

I’ve been looking for the right place and time to say this, and in fact have been saying it for years. So I’ll just say it: they want us dead.

Maybe I need to say it louder. They want us dead.

I think.

I really think the strong, the lucky, the powerful and autonomous, call them what you want, the people who have the power to shape the world, they want us dead.

By us, I mean the workers they no longer need, the consumers they no longer need.

The consumers bought the stuff, that profit went to the top, the top used it to get more stuff.

Now the top can just make the stuff with AI and automation and don’t need that whole middle part.

One final reason why we needed a big population is this: consider a year in the life of some rich guy. One day he needs a neurologist. Later he needs an ophthalmologist. Later, a urologist. Later an oral surgeon.

Point being, you don’t get tens of thousands of kinds of specialists on tap unless you have a very large population. Not so much the case, soon. AI and robotics will cover all that and more with a few lines of code.

Bye, bye large population. They want us dead.

By the time we have the guts to say it out loud it will be too late.

We’re too ashamed to say it because we don’t want to believe we are seen that way.

Maybe we even see the cold logic to it. And they won’t say it. They barely bother to think it.

They figure nature will work it out.

And it will. Massive drop in money, status, purpose.

That makes people fade away. It’s always happened when towns go bust. When a major plant closes. But this is just bigger. This is billions of people.

Billions of people competing for resources, producing a carbon footprint, for what?

Why would the powerful want 7 billion extra people, spreading disease, clamoring for mates and food. Eyeing their digs.

The answer is they wouldn’t. At all. They are bunkering down.

No UBI is coming. No abundance. No techno-utopia. Just social Darwinism.

Gradually and then suddenly.

Basic income isn’t a math problem. It never was. It’s a meat problem.

Andreessen said it himself. He sees UBI as “farming people.” He sees it as him and his friends “farming” us, and for what? They don’t want that.

(“Andreessen’s Farm” by Stella Stillwell)

Oh, goodie, yet another pilot shows a 12% increase in income and well-being when we pay 2,000 people $400 a month.

Are you kidding me? You think that matters or makes people care? It’s a joke.

It’s not about whether it works. It’s about whether they think it’s UGLY. And they do.

They despise it. They are sickened by the prospect of a basic floor.

We could argue that we just want a little plot of land. A humble veggie garden. Clean water. Food. Good WiFi. Not much else. That we won’t bother anyone.

And while so many of us scoff at that sort of minimalistic life, very soon it’ll sound like a mirage of perfection.

Those of us in the bottom half? They want us dead. If we can’t claw our way up, they want us dead.

Someone has to be the bottom 50%. Bottom 20%. Bottom 2%. If there’s no work for us to do, THEY WANT US DEAD.

I don’t know if it’s true. But after years of talking about UBI, almost none of the discussion is about ideology or values.

It’s always about math, and someone on the right always saying it’s a bad idea because of “purpose.” They laugh and change the subject.

Because they want us dead.

Maybe that was always the case. Maybe the bottom class was always in the “they want us dead” category and knew it.

And capitalism or agriculture and industry just hid it for a while. Slavery and feudalism hid it for a while.

And when there’s no more need for so many billions of us, the people who clearly have the power to shape the world however they want, they are already doing it.

Billionaires collectively worth many trillions are getting together and saying, ok guys, the end game is here, Darwinism is rearing its head, how do we want to play this? And they’re already playing it. UBI isn’t part of the plan. Never was.

The money lords and their kiss-ass minions. A world teeming with AI, robots, floating cities, automated farming and distribution, rarified peak experiences and radical life extension, that’s for the tippy top.

For us? Slow, sad marginalization and decay.

It’ll start with a layoff, then no job, then you’re homeless, status drops, social death, it happens so fast they blame you, tell you to try harder, show some GRIT.

But you can’t. You just can’t. You feel like digging a hole and lying in it. If you’re a man and have a girlfriend or wife of any value, she trades up. If you have kids, someone else will raise them, if they’re lucky. If you’re a woman, you may only have one thing left to sell, and don’t count on that either. The sex bots are coming.

It’s not an accident. It’s been leading up to this.

They want us dead.

We could have voted for Yang. We could have somehow elected leaders to push compassion. We didn’t. Our populace is religious, delusional, and mean. Stupid, arrogant, cowardly.

So that’s what we got in government.

The left was divided because the far left were too weird and we stupidly allowed it.

Today, we are almost out of time.

I abhor violence. There will be no talk of revolution from me.

I’m just begging you all. Stop hemming and hawing. Fucking say it out loud.

We have no more time for Pollyanna nonsense. Say it. Do something.

Tell me I’m wrong. Tell me there’s a plan for more organizing, more writing, more voting, more coalition‑building, and making the moral case for compassion before the “gradually and then suddenly” arrives.

Tell me they don’t want us dead. If that’s what you really believe, tell me.

Do it now.