DISPATCHES FROM THE FUTURE

We are in the year 2525. Wait, who wants that song going through our heads all day? The year is 2424 and all usable oil reserves have been gone for centuries. The effect on humanity has been staggering. Indeed, the population that had doubled to 6 billion from 1950 to the year 2000, has fallen back below one billion, and they are scattered about in such a primitive state that there is no way to count them.
The years at the end of the last millennium are now seen as glorious to the point of dreamlike. Peak Oil is celebrated as a nostalgic holiday by the colonies of the East Coast. Every name, every event, is a reference back to the wondrous Age of Celebrity, which immediately preceded the catastrophic wars for the last remaining stocks of hydrocarbons.
President Fillmore East, confident that things have recovered sufficiently in Washington, has decided to send a covered wagon full of urban planners out west to find out what has happened. Actually, he just wants to get them out of town, but no matter. An expedition headed by Emmanuel Lewis and Dave Clark heads out, arriving after a long arduous journey at a place the natives call the Rose City. Here is the report:
“We have set up camp in an open area called Pioneer Square. There are huge columns, some lying on their sides in ruins. We believe this site might date back to the Roman Empire. The last few miles of our journey were tough. The roads were choked with abandoned cars, and all open land has returned to dense forest. The wildlife is stunning. The rivers are thick with salmon, and vast herds of elk roam the woods. The natives even describe sturgeon that are 50-feet long in a place they call Hanford.
At the time of the Great Abandonment, Portland − as the old city was named − was locked in a pointless battle between proponents of high-rise living versus urban sprawl. As with most places, the implications of declining oil were ignored until the society collapsed. Some citizens remained till the bicycle-tire supply was exhausted. Others left when the coffee ran out. Towards the end, the sole means of transportation was the skateboard.
We did find one pocket of survivors known as Dignity Village, but the place is mostly abandoned, except for some primitive groups that have just migrated back to town after centuries in the woods.
The most interesting of these lives in the old hilly Southwest section. Apparently, they discovered a bizarre structure known as the Aerial Tram, and finding no earthly use for it, they concluded it must have been built by God. It is now the center of their primitive religion. They fervently believe that one day it will begin moving again and all who ride it will be taken to heaven.
Oh well, that’s it from here. Tomorrow we’ll attempt to cross a lawless area known as Clark County and head north to a place the natives shudder about. It’s a desolate outpost they call Seattle.”