What I’m proposing is simple. The toppled dictators, con men, shitheads and monsters from Mubarak of Egypt, Ben-Ali of Tunisia, to Scott Walker of Wisconsin and so forth, be relocated en masse to a remote desert island disconnected from the rest of better society.

Preferably the same island where the Army dumps all the giant spiders.

Each will be equipped with a spear and a musical instrument of their choosing. No sheet music. There will be no running water on this island, nor vitamin supplements. It will take weeks for their mail to be rerouted and even then, most of it will be crushed and/or bent.

A crude social order will work itself out with the more ruthless rising above the others. This Pig among pigs as it were will then rename the lesser jerks and, well, probably take up a crude version of island tennis using coconuts and ignoring most of the game’s rules.

We shall let this island culture evolve, unmolested, for 47,000 years. At which point we will dispatch a team of courageous scientists in contamination suits to examine the survivors. If any of the Supervillains have failed to mutate into Ultimate Killing Machines I will be extremely disappointed.

Chris Weagel

Chris Weagel writes about the intersection of technology and parenting for Wired Magazine. No he doesn't. He can't stand that shit.

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