The Last Electric Ride

"Hey Timmy, how about you and me go for a ride today?  Mitch asked his son.  "We can't Dad, the HS is off the charts.  It's been like that for weeks now, you know that."

The year was 2030, and like everything else involving man-made climate change, the collapse of life in the ocean had occurred much faster than anyone had imagined it could.  A tipping point was reached where the ocean had absorbed enough CO2 that made it too acidic for any microorganisms to be able to form their tiny calcium carbonate shells, while at the same time the acidification caused huge deadly algae blooms that killed everything in their paths for hundreds to thousands of miles.  Biologists referred to this collapse as the equivalent of a biological nuclear chain reaction.

This massive kill off of marine life resulted in deadly levels of Hydrogen Sulfide, H2S, (or the slang version HS) both in and above the oceans.   Places like Long Island where Mitch and Timmy lived were dead zones that could only be inhabited by living in Sealed Habitation Units, or SHUs.  Although SHU zones were pretty isolated and lonely, there was one huge advantage to living in one. And that was that you could be relatively safe from looting or being killed by roaming gangs that stalked the survivable areas between the SHU zones on the coasts and the heat ravaged dead zones of the interior of the US.

Mitch was getting very tired of living in his SHU.  Sure a successful corporate lawyer like him could afford every imaginable luxury he could fit in his expansive SHU, but in some ways it still had taken on the feel of a prison.  The isolation was also beginning to take its toll too.  Because it was too dangerous to travel outside his SHU zone he had to use his Telepresence Unit to keep in touch with business contacts, family and friends.  Although it was sold as just the same as being there in person, people old enough to clearly remember traveling to visit people in person, knew this wasn't true.

"Come on Timmy we'll each grab a breathing unit and we'll take the Tesla out for a spin.  It'll be a blast".  Although Timmy was worried about his fathers somewhat reckless driving habits lately, like any young son he trusted his father very much and looked up to him, so he agreed to go along.

They exited the SHU's airlock into the garage that housed Mitch's special Telsa electric vehicle.  Electric vehicles with spark-less motors were the only safe way to travel in a SHU zone because of the high levels of Hydrogen Sulfide.  On a calm day the H2S levels could be high enough that a spark could trigger a massive explosion.  But besides it's safety record, the other thing Mitch loved about his spark-less Tesla was that it was too expensive for anyone other than the very rich like him to afford.  This helped keep his SHU zone a very exclusive one.  Mitch wanted nothing to do with the 47%, or the 99% or however you wanted to describe those lowlife, useless eater masses.  He loved anything that kept THEM away from him.

Father and son tore out of the garage and raced down the deserted street.  The streets were almost as silent as the Tesla was.  No birds, no dogs, no people.  Nothing but mile after mile of dead trees, abandoned homes and an occasional occupied SHU.  Mitch had decided to head for Jones Beach Fishing Station, he took a hard right and mashed the Tesla's accelerator pedal to the floor, and headed in that direction.

As they raced toward the fishing docks Mitch reflected on his life.  He had been one hell of a corporate lawyer.  He had fought and won some of the biggest environmental cases for his corporate clients.  It was said that he and his law firm were responsible for saving the big oil companies from massive environmental lawsuits that could have crippled them.  But thanks to his great legal mind they managed to stay in business and kept the oil flowing right up to, and even into the final great environmental collapse.

Mitch figured he had gotten everything out of life he could.  He had made millions, traveled the world while it was still possible, and enjoyed everything human society could provide.  Heck, he had most likely eaten meat from the last Blue Fin Tuna on the planet.  How could he top that? What else could he ask for?

Mitch could see the fishing piers off in the distance, the Tesla was heading towards them blindingly fast.  Mitch figured this was as good a place as any to check out of this life. There was nothing left for him to accomplish, and the true good life as he had known it was over, there was nothing in his mind left for him to live for.

He lined up the Tesla with the dock, he then took off his breathing unit and inhaled deeply, his death was almost instantaneous, and painless.

Almost as soon as they left the garage Timmy knew something wasn't right with his dad.  His father had said nothing as they raced down the streets towards the ocean.  Timmy like his entire generation, and those that could have followed him were helpless passengers on the ride to oblivion set in motion by his father's generation and those that came before him.  A selfish ride to hell that was all about self indulgence with no thought or concern for the generations to come.

The Tesla left the dock at over 130 MPH, with Mitch's smiling, lifeless body behind the steering wheel.  His smile was the last act of self satisfaction for a selfish life lived very well indeed.  Next to him sat his screaming and terrified son Timmy seconds away from a certain death that he himself had no hand in causing.

Droning on and on and on...

George sat down to read the weekly Sentinel, it was one of his few little pleasures in post collapse United states.  For $20 a year it gave him some access to the world around him now that over the air TV and Radio were no longer free, and whose cost had risen beyond the means of many Americans.

"Ha, they got another one of the bastards!"  He yelled to his wife.  "That SOB Gibbons finally got what was coming to him.  They took him out with a drone strike Sunday morning.  If he had been a God fearing Christian, he'd been at church and they would have missed him.", He continued to his Misses.  "No loss to the county", he mumbled to himself.

State sanctioned drone strikes were usually conducted on Sunday mornings in the American South whenever possible.  It was widely known by state officials that if you could take a suspect out when they should have been in church there would be much less sympathy for the target from the locals.  Plus the area preachers appreciated the extra business, and money in the collection plates.  Times were hard and scaring extra bodies into the pews on Sunday meant more money for the church.

It was long rumored that Gibbons had been selling moonshine, but the authorities could never prove it.  But thanks to Georgia's new "Freedom From Terrorism" act,  Georgia citizens could be legally killed for suspicion of terrorism anywhere in the state.  And suspicion of distributing a potentially dangerous substance like moonshine, was determined to be just such and act, by Judge Ribner.  Oh yea, and the Honorable Ribner didn't like Gibbons either since he wrote that nasty Editorial in the Sentinel about the judge a few months back.

Reading about the latest drone strike in the paper, after hearing a distant explosion days before, was the highlight of George's week.  Justice being doled out quickly and summarily was something that George's authoritarian personality could never get enough of.   It was only beginning of June and there had already been 18 drone strikes in his county alone.  They had taken out suspected drug dealers, moonshiners, abortion providers, (abortions were now illegal in Georgia), and distributers of non official news papers.

After a drone strike, the charges the target was suspected of were printed in the paper.  Sometimes the charges were said to be secret and not given for state or even national security reasons.  It was rumored that strikes where the states accusations were classified had been mistakes, but those were just rumors.  And they would stay rumors because it was illegal to discuss drone strikes in the same way discussing sneak and peak searches had been made illegal in the Patriot Act years before.  Authoritarian Regimes love secrecy, and none were more authorial than late 21st century Amercia, the name given to the new super region of southern American states.

It was a beautiful Sunday morning.  Not a cloud in the sky. Cool for a Georgia summer day.   George decided it would be a good day to do some yard work, because most of next week was supposed to be hot has hell.  He figured God would understand his skipping one Sunday's mass.  "Funny how God always agrees with what I think." he thought to himself.  George surveyed his large garden, mostly tomatoes that would be canned for a variety of sauces to help get the family through the winter.  George's property was a clearing in the woods far off  the main road.   The plants looked great.  George scanned the sky and spotted a last quarter moon.  It was the only thing in the cloudless sky besides the sun.  He thought he noticed a small flash, but it must have been his imagination, "Eyes play tricks on a man sometimes." he thought to himself.

He went back to studying his fine looking garden.  Then he thought to himself, "Ya know, from a distance those tomato plants could look a little like marijuana, and growin' them could get a guy in some serious trouble with the law!"  Those were George's lasts thoughts. 

After an official investigation of the strike that killed George had been completed, and the remnants of his tomato plants had been fully examined, it was determined that the charges against him had to be classified.   And that's how it was reported in that week's Sentinel. 

After reading the paper that week, the consensus of his neighbors were that he should have been in church that Sunday like they were.  If he had been, none of this would have happened.

A Presidential Sized Confession

Sasha, Malia, first I want to tell you how much I loved you.  You two were the reason I did much of what I did.  I always just wanted to be sure you two and your children had a safe and secure future.

On this 50th anniversary of the last year of my first term in office, this letter is scheduled to find its way to your hands to explain my actions.  The year is now 2062, and you both are now in the last third of your lives. I have long ago left this world, after a long, wonderful, and exciting life. But of everything I have ever done, my proudest achievement was that I left you and your heirs, financially wanting for nothing for the rest of your lives.

By now you must see that climate change is having a sever impact on the planet.  We knew this was inevitable, because of how our economy had been set up.  We had to keep growth going for as long as possible, so your mother and I, and my large financial backers, could gather enough financial security to protect our heirs from the coming catastrophes. I know this is not fair to most people on the planet, but this is the way the world was setup. It was like this long before I came along, and although I was President, the true power that put me there made it impossible for me to change it.  I hope you understand.  Thankfully because of these fortunes, (and no estate tax). you and your children, along with others in our class can safely live anywhere on the planet that still has a survivable climate.

Besides financial wealth we have done other things to be sure your future is secure.  We know that climate change, and declining water, oil, and food resources would make for turbulent times, so we secured the future of our ruling class by rescinding the bill of rights and instituting marshal law for anyone worth $100,000,000 or less.  Anyone who ever attempts to harm any of you, or even make you feel uncomfortable in any way, will be dealt with harshly and quickly.  You have my word on that.

We have done our best to document the natural world on high def video, audio, and were possible we have even captured those intoxicating smells of our once great forests and jungles. We also did our best to collect as many animals as possible in the national zoo, so that our class's future generations can experience the world as it was before the coming great mass extinction.  (I wonder how far along it is as you read this?).

We have done all this at great difficulty and expense to make you and those of our status secure for generations to come.  Yes, billions have to suffer in severe poverty for our class to prosper as well has it has, but that is just the way of the world, and it was beyond me to even attempt to change it.

Enjoy your lives. I always loved you, and your children more than anything else.   Give my best to the Kennedys, the Boehners, the McConnels and the Romneys.   I know they will be great comfort and company to you all in your secure compound aptly named "American Freedom".  Remember to tell your children that "American Freedom's" high walls, armed guards, and drones are meant to keep others out, and not to keep them in.  It is important that they understand that.

Love always
Your Father , Barak…

 "Hey wadda you got over dare, Wayne?"  "I dunno, a bunch a junk and some kind of written."  Wayne yelled back to Buddy.  Neither one could read all that well.  Most people in the 22nd century just had a minimum of home schooling.

"It looks like somebody named Barak wrote somethin to a couple a girls".  "You recognize any of those names Wane?"  Buddy asked.  "Nope, notta one."  Wayne quipped.  Then he added,  "This place been empty since da great drought a 2060.  Day say all da 1%ers that lived here just dried up an blewed away back den".

"Wadda you wana do with all this junk?"  asked Wayne.  Buddy told Wayne, "Aint nothin wort keepen here.  Put da stuff dat burns in a big pile, den light it on fire use'n da letter".  "It'll help keep the ghosts of the 1%ers away!"

They both chuckled as the letter burned.

Corporate Persons and Madness

Senator Max Diemen was a SOB and he made sure everybody knew it.  He was in the Senate for one reason, and that was to make as much money for himself as fast as possible.  His votes were always up for sale under the guise of "Campaign Contributions", but he didn't come cheap.

Media USA, was the mega media conglomerate that resulted from the merger of the few remaining broadcast outlets.  It was the last man standing in the American broadcasting system.  It was loaded with dollars and ready to buy itself some congressmen, and Diemen was ready to be bought.  The Diemen, Media USA marriage would turn out to be a match made in hell for most of the people of planet Earth. 

The top management of Media USA had two goals, one was to give ALL rights  of person hood to corporations, and to take as many of those rights away from real people as possible.

The far right had been packing the supreme court with extremest judges for years, and they had finally had a rock solid majority.  So everything was in place for the management of Media USA to make its move through Diemen.  A case was brought before the court that said seeing corporations have some person hood rights, then they should be given all rights.  Diemen deposited some hefty sums of money into the offshore bank accounts of the right wing judges, and of course the court ruled in favor of Media USA.

Media USA waited a year then the process was repeated.  This time it was argued that if corporations are people how can people be people?  After all a tree is not a dog, a tomato is not a cat.  Of course the argument was ridiculous, but no more ridiculous than the original augment that a corporation is a person, so bribe money in had the Supreme Court ruled in 2020, that people were no longer people.

The night after that ruling there was one hell of a party the secretive Media USA underground compound in downtown Manhattan.  The best booze, cocaine, and food available on the planet was on display for all to consume.  Diemen being the pig he was indulged in it all.  He was pretty drunk and high when the heads of Media USA asked him if he wanted to see something very special. "Surrre" he slurred.

They headed deeper into the compound, and entered a very large but otherwise rather nondescript room.  On the other side of the room there were several rather large chambers.  "Hey Max", said one of the Media USA execs, "go into that middle room, and have a seat".  "What's it... for". Max slurred.   "Its the latest home entertainment media room we're working in.  Go in and have a seat" the exec said.  Max went in and sat down.  Soft music and the sound of a babbling brook played in the background.  Max quickly fell asleep.

"Turn it on and set it to 2120."  The Media USA exec said.  "I never want to see that SOB again for as long as I live.

Max woke up very stiff, but surprisingly with absolutely no hangover.  He looked around the chamber trying to remember where he was.  The door of the chamber he was in was open and a dim light shown through the doorway.  The chamber had a fail safe mechanism that woke Max up, safely shut the unit down, and opened the door when a power failure was detected.  Emergency lighting in the compound would last about 24 hours.   Max stumbled out of the chamber into the dimly lit room.  No one was around.

Diemen worked his way up the empty staircases, stopping at every level to yell into each floor to see if he could find someone talk to.  As level after level no one answered him, he started to worry.  Then he thought maybe its Sunday, yea that's it, its Sunday and all the suckers are at church praying to their sky daddy.  He chuckled to himself and continued on up to the ground level.

He opened the hallway door to the Media USA ground floor foyer.   It was a dusty dirty mess.  No one was at the front desk.   Confused and concerned he walked out the front door.  It was hot, and quiet.  Not a sound, other than an occasional bird call.  How can this be in downtown New York.  What the hell is going on here he thought.

Max wandered around down town New York for hours.  Block after empty block.  No one to be found anywhere.  Abandoned cars and broken windows were everywhere.  Max was now in a panic, he couldn't wrap his mind around what he was seeing.

It was getting dark when he found the "Underground Books" store.  The door was unlocked so he went inside.  There were candles everywhere, in various stages of having been burned.  He lit one, and started exploring the store.  He stopped dead in his tracks when he ran across a book titled 'The Real Humans History Guide to the 21st Century'.  Why would someone write a history guide to the 21st century when it is only 2020, he thought to himself.  He opened the book only to see a copyright date of 2103.  What kind of sick joke is this he thought to himself, but he started reading anyway.  He never put the book down, lighting candle after candle until he was done.  Here is the essence of what he read that night.

All environmental, food safety, drug safety, and product safety regulations were done away with because they infringed on corporate persons rights.  As a result large sections of the planet became too polluted to safely live in.  Mass food poisonings due to tainted food were rampant, disease pandemics were everywhere because drugs and vaccines were too expensive for many to afford.  Profits over people was now the law in every country on the planet.

By 2090, 85% of the population of the US was now dead.  The 1% that had caused this pain and their politician enablers, were rounded up put on the part of Manhattan that was still above water, and all the area bridges were blown up, turning it into a prison.   Most of these people died fairly quickly because they were ill prepared to take care of themselves.  Their skills at high tech crime were useless to them in their new situation.

By 2100 what remained of humanity had retreated to relatively small communities, in isolated areas.  It was hoped this way of living would prevent a repeat of the madness they all had lived through. It was estimated that maybe 1,300,000 people were still alive world wide.  Also in an attempt to be sure nothing like this ever happened again, corporations were outlawed, and 'The Real Humans History Guide to the 21st Century' was written and copies were air dropped to the former large cities in hopes any survivors would find them and know what really had happened to their world.

As Max put down his book down the reality of his situation hit him.  He must have been put into some kind of a suspended animation or time machine, and his best guess was that it was some time in the early 22nd century.  He realized he may now be the only person alive on the island he found himself on.  He was unsure if he could escape it, and was even less sure he could ever make it to one of the few remaining isolated communities.

But the thing that bothered him the most was all that work at corrupting the system had in the end been wasted.  He should be a millionaire now.  He should be living in a big fancy house on the ocean surrounded by every luxury one could imagine.  He had earned it.  He was entitled to it.  Scrounging for food, and living in run down dumps were for the lowly 99%, those useless breathers and not for him.  The idea how unfair this all had been to him slowly over time, drove him insane.

Protests and Pensions

Jimmy O'toole loved beating people up.  The rush he got when he knew a fight might be in the wind was like no other.  He especially like roughing up women.  They cried when he hit them, and there was little chance they would fight back.  But Jimmy stayed away from big guys, especially if they looked like they were ex military.  That is unless he and his buddies outnumbered the guy at least five to one, or he could shoot the guy from a safe distance.

Jimmy knew all the dirty tricks you needed in a street fight.  If your going to shoot somebody, aim for the head, then wait for people to try to help the person, then shoot them too.   He knew how to instigate a fight, so it was fought on his terms.

Yea, Officer O'toole loved being a big city cop.   There was always something going on.  Loiterers to be roughed up, petty thieves to slap around once you got them back to the station, were all good stuff.  But to Jimmy they couldn't  hold a candle to a protest, expecially if it turned into a riot, for sheer excitement.

There were so many possibilities at a protest, sneak up behind somebody and pepper spray 'em.   Get them down on the ground, cuff 'em then kick the crap out of them before you load them in the van.  O'toole could hit a protester in the head at a distance with a rubber bullet or a tear gas canister, better than anyone.  To Jimmy it didn't matter if they were 18 or 80, man or women, it was the cops against "those people", and "those people" needed to be kept in line,  they needed to know who was the boss, and the boss was Jimmy.

The Occupy Wall Street protesters were held in special contempt in Jimmy's eyes.   To him they were just a bunch of dirty smelly college kids that didn't want to have to pay their loans back.  Hey, nobody held a gun to their heads and made them take those loans out, he thought.  They just needed to get off their lazy liberal asses and get themselves a job.

OWS had the 1%er's nervous.  They were so close to crushing the working classes around the world, and bringing stability to their class by imposing neo-fuedalism on everyone else, that they could taste it.  The movement HAD to be crushed as soon as possible. 

In 2013 the Department of Homeland Security decided to coordinate the infiltration of the movement with some armed undercover cops to incite some real violence.  Then they would declare OWS a terrorist organization and shut it down for good.  Officer O'toole jumped at the chance to be one of those undercover provocateurs.

It was decided that a group of TV reporters would be assembled near where the police were lined up.  A few undercover cops mixed in with the OWS'ers would throw some rocks and bottles at the cops, the cops would fire back a couple of teargas canisters, then Jimmy would shoot one of the reporters once there was enough confusion to provide him cover.

It worked like a charm.  The video of the dead reporter, was seen all over the country.  The same scenario was repeated at a few other OWS protests, then as planned the group was labeled a terrorist organization.  People were arrested and held indefinitely without trials, which was now completely legal in the US.

OWS was the last hurrah for the working classes, they had been crushed.  Any attempts at organizing new protests were met with extreme violence.   Social programs were shutdown,  The .01%ers began slowy raiding Social Security and pension plans because that was where the last real wealth remained that wasn't yet owned by them.

Officer O'toole was forced to retire in 2023 at age 50 due to a repetitive motion injury from all the beatings he had given people over the years with his night stick.   His fellow officers joked that he had to retire because of "tennis elbow".

Jimmy had only collected is pension for 7 months, when it was raided too.
O'toole went nuts when he found out his pension was gone.  He called the station, and was told 'times were tough and the city could no longer afford to pay him'.  That just made him even madder, so he headed to the station to get some answers face to face.

The department was ready for O'toole and any other pissed off pensioners.   Dozens of fresh recruits were standing in front of the building in full riot gear.  Psychological screening had been used to be sure only low information authoritarian types were now hired as cops.  These new cops would blindly follow orders, and had little in the way of skills to determine if what they were told was true or not.

These new recruits were told they would not be getting pensions because the money was stolen by the older cops.  Of course it wasn't true but it made the young cops hate the old ones.  Divide and concur, it works like a charm on the uninformed every time.

O'toole approached the line of recruits.  "I'm here to talk to the Cheif, I have no beef with you guys!", he said.  As he got closer to the line, the 5 recruits that were nearest to him broke ranks and descended on him with the their night sticks.  "You lookin' for your retirement? We'll here it comes!" yelled the lead recruit, and they proceeded to savagely beat Jimmy.

The last thing Jimmy saw before he passed out was their 5 smiling faces.  They too loved being big city cops.

Lotteries and lives

Annie hurt all over.  She had never felt pain like that before.  It even hurt when she tried to open her eyes, so she laid there motionless.  Where was she?  What had happened?  Her curiosity finally overcame her pain and she slowly opened her eyes.  "Quick, turn on the camera and lights, she's coming around!" she heard a woman yell.  Her opening eyes were met with a blinding video camera light.  "Congratulations you won!" she heard the woman say.  "What did I win?" Annie mumbled.  Barely able to contain her excitement the unknown woman said, "You won treatment for your injuries, in the Great American Health Care Lottery!"

In mid 21st century America there were no longer any social programs.  They were all done away with in 2023 under the "Freedom for Americans Act".  This act did away with Social Security, Medicare, Medicaid, Food Stamps, and Unemployment insurance.  President Paul Ryan said signing that Bill into law was the highlight of his administration.

The termination of all these social programs was inevitable because the 10 years of austerity created under the 2013 "Future Wealth for the Middle Class" act, which had put the final nails in the coffin of the middle class in America.   Tax cuts for the top 3% of Americans were now permanent via a constitutional amendment.  This left the other 97% with taxes so high that they could no longer pay into SS or Medicare. Tax dollars for the other social programs were also diverted to pay back the national debt to make the private banks whole.

In 2020 Congress expanded Obama-care to "cover" all Americans, America finally joined the rest of the industrialized world, and had a single payer health care system.  Well, sort of.  They created the single payer system by turning health insurance into a lottery.  The reason for the lottery was that the insurance industry had exhausted their current business model and in order to keep growing so Wall Street was happy the lottery was adopted.

By law you had to pay a monthly premium but instead of being guaranteed treatment should you become injured or sick, when admitted to the hospital you would scan your National Consumer ID card to see if you had won treatment.  Fortunately for Annie she had won the needed treatment for the injuries she had received when her house was inadvertently hit by a missile fired at her house by a domestic terrorist killer drone.  The real target of the attack, Greenpeace escaped unscathed.

Annie didn't know it was a drone strike that had put her in the hospital, she had no idea what had happened to her, but as her mind began to clear, she was in a panic about husband and three kids.  "Are my kids and husband OK?" she asked?  "They survived."  The reporter answered, curtly.  "Maybe after we finish the promotional video shoot for the lottery you can see them."

The video shoot consisted of Annie laying in bed motionless with a giant Lottery Congratulations banner over her head, as the reporter talked about the lottery that gives the American people access to the greatest health care system in the world.  As the reporter jabbered on, Annie passed out from the pain from her injuries.   You see pain meds were not paid for by the lottery.  They had to be paid for by the consumer themselves, and a quick scan of Annie's National Consumer card showed she had no money available for such a luxury.

She woke up to a nurse taking her temperature.  She asked about her husband and kids.  The nurse said they had survived but were not health care lottery winners so they were not treated.  But they were made as comfortable as possible as they died from their injuries. (The medications for the dying, were thanks to the Rand Paul health care amendment which allowed family members to add the cost of their loved ones final medications to their personal debt load).

Because organ donation was a requirement for the 97%ers, the nurse said they would live on though the organs they gave to other health care lottery winners and 3%ers.  A tear rolled down Annie's right temple as she contemplated the loss of her entire immediate family.   But Annie understood that health care was not a right but a privilege to either the lucky or the rich.  This had been drummed into her head from her first days in her for-profit kindergarten class, all the way through her secondary for profit training in retail sales.  She knew it was now the American way, and she took some solace in that.

Of Sun Rays and Meltdowns.

It is the height of Solar cycle 25, May 15, 2022.  Big Bear Solar observatory is observing a massive sunspot when at 11:23 local time, two kidney shaped beads of blinding bright white light erupt from the heart of the solar storm. What was just observed was the start of the most massive Coronal Mass Ejection, (or CME) to ever have occured in recorded history.

Within an hour the alert goes out to the White House. President Bachmann is briefed on the impending disaster that is about to rain down on the United States. The dire news she hears causes her to have a debilitating migraine headache. She pops several Relpax and calls Carl Rove.

Rove makes the decision that a news blackout is necessary to prevent panic. A call goes out to Clear Channel Radio, Fox, CBS, and all the other major media outlets. They are told to only report that there will be a beautiful Aurora, and there might be some minor disruptions in communications especially anything that uses satellites.

Using that as cover the government shuts down any satellite transponders that broadcast foreign news. Facebook and twitter go down. All large internet providers turn on their CIA developed email filters, and any emails containing information on the CME have a 48 hour delivery delay put on them.

The next morning Aurora is seen at the equator. This is believed to be a first. The 'Good morning America' "news show" is there to record it. Beautiful photos and video of the Aurora are all over the news. Meanwhile Amateur Astronomers do their best to warn friends and family of what is coming. They meet with limited success. Grocery stores notice a slight increase in sales.

On May 17th the CME slams into planet Earth. All satellites go down. Phone lines and power lines catch fire as they are overwhelmed by the arrival of the solar energy. Multi ton transformers around the country burst into flames. Computer systems everywhere go down as their hard drives are destroyed by the massive blast of solar electro-magnetic energy. All of the hundred plus Nuclear plants around the United States shutdown, and their backup cooling systems fail. This scenario is repeated in all countries in North and South America, because by the luck of the draw that is the side of the planet that happened to be facing the sun when the CME hit.

Fukushima like disasters are set in motion across the western hemisphere, and there is no way to get the word out because all communications are down. A few of the nuke plant workers that drove old cars to work that day, cars that had no computer chips in them manage to drive home to evacuate their families. Anything that used electricity or a computer chip no longer functioned.

The United States has had it's technology clock turned back to the 1800s, as nuclear plants meltdown across the country and contaminate vast areas.

What happens next? Use your imagination, its beyond mine. Unfortunately massive CMEs are a reality. They have happened in the past and they WILL happen again some day. The last big one in 1859 set telegraph lines on fire. If one hit now, with all our technology it would be devastating. It would probably take years, maybe a decade to recover to some workable large scale society. And while that happened all those nuclear plants would continue to burn...