There is a back story. There always is. A back story playing out around him for years and years that was never considered because nothing mattered.
The fear that the poor no matter race, color, or religion are giving birth so rapidly and bountifully that America was going to become a brown nation. An implied nightmare that needed to be addressed. Simply stated fear of being replaced. Those embracing the nightmare had to secure their stuff. Secure their future for them and their off spring.
In the last six years the nightmare gained momentum. Small steps were made to lessen the fears. At the extreme edges sterilization of those destined to replace the chosen one’s was spoken but never went further than posters. Simple steps, short steps were taken. First, it was shutting down immigration. Second, creating strict deportation laws. Finally, children of immigrants born in America were not guaranteed a right to citizenship. It’s hard to reproduce when you are under constant government surveillance.
Slowing the immigrant birth rate brought into focus the inverse, birth rates of the white entitled was not happening. In twenty years America would be just limping along as a once productive and vibrant land. That was the fear within the fear.
The vast majority of 20 somethings were not actively meeting breeding goals needed to keep America American. Birth rates were falling in general but much more dramatically among these 20 somethings fresh out of college, fresh into gig working, and fresh into realizing that hopes and dreams were vapid expressions of someone else’s vision poured on to them like bottles of Fiji water. These 20 somethings turned inward, less with Walden like self-reflection and more social media meme’s, humble brags, and FOMO to project sand castle dreams and hopes. Let’s not mistake what they all wanted, a series C valuation with a clear exit strategy, a best seller, influencer status, an album. But at 3am when the blue eyes wide open, it was Xanax to the rescue. A pill shaped pony to ride off into the sunset and escape the thoughts of what would never be.
The vacuum of low birth rate was pumped with economic oxygen. It’s not like the the domain of hipsters gave enough of a shit to do something on their own for the good of America. The energy and attention that fueled their social media dreams and FOMO was the fact college debt, lack of affordable housing, and eight dollar latte’s did not shout marriage, family, and meaningful careers.
A plan to motivate them was created. A plan that went to their heart and soul — money and desire to help the underserved. Mostly money. Nothing motivates the bitter and self-entitled like money and more stuff. This was wrapped in a hand knit Rainbow flag blanket made from Tibetan baby lambs wool. Organic, no gluten, and raised free range.
Hipsters, tech wannabes, bro bankers, yoga instructors, lawyers, school teachers, coders, and barista writers saw there were new dollars and benefits in breeding. Maybe, just maybe, it was their time to get their share while engaging to help others. Finally. Even a second generation born in America former immigrant family who had a Masters Degree, potential high earners, and were of breeding age could join.
All were promised the money, feels, and a place to live. (Housing not so much, yet.) They were told/cajoled that it was their duty and privilege, as the tech elite, make babies who will become drivers of America’s economic future. Only they could be the new engine of America.
The numbers of new babies with named Luna, Selene, Reign, or Felix was not overwhelming. It was just enough to gain a small and statistical advantage. A small trend was appearing. These hipsters knew that over population was not good in general and it meant less for them. As if in some secret members only FB page they produced enough newborn hipster babies to just displace poor who were breeding better. As with any grand plan unintended consequence resulted. The plan failed to understand the fact boomers are holding on to life, money, and housing in a Vulcan Nerve Pinch.