Looking for that chance to get away, let loose and indulge in your every whim, no matter how morally questionable? Forget about Vegas, skip Amsterdam and don’t waste time trying to get in shape to roam the beaches of Ft. Lauderdale in a Speedo during Spring Break. While those destinations are fun and have plenty of perks, they aren’t enough to sate the impulsive carnal urges your disturbed mind keeps bottled-up in the real world, are they?
So why not really unleash your inhibitions with one of Hollywood’s many “DYSTOPIAN PARADISE PACKAGES”?
Nevada’s infamous Bunny Ranch will seem as tame as a Puritan honeymoon compared the pleasures which await you. And who knows… you might even get to kill some people!
If such decadence sounds appealing (and you know who you are!), perhaps you’d fancy visiting the following destinations…
VENUSVILLE (Total Recall)
Sure, Mars may not be as aesthetically romantic as venturing to the rings of Saturn (“Everyone raves about ’em”), but doesn't that seem sort-of like today’s old folks embarking on a cruise hoping to rekindle some spark in their marriage?
But Venusville is for those who just want to get their rocks off while pretending to be a secret agent (which applies to every self-aware male ever born). While there are numerous bars and brothels which will indulge you, your best bet is to check-out The Last Resort, featuring three-breasted mutant lovelies who’ll will make you wish you had a equal number of hands.
THE DYSTOPIAN DOWNSIDE: Okay, sure…the folks working on Mars are oppressed, and yeah, you might find yourself morally obligated to liberate them. But hey…in the meantime…three boobs!
ROUGE CITY (A.I: Artificial Intelligence)
In a future where global warming has flooded most of the planet and procreation is a crapshoot at best, we can purchase little robot children who will love us unconditionally, even after the novelty has worn off. But hey, you didn’t come here to play wet nurse to a walking, whiny piece of snot-nosed circuitry. You want action!
Look no further than Rouge City, a neon wonderland of carnal pleasure for members of both sexes, provided by ‘professionals’ programmed to do whatever you want. This sexual utopia is the perfect destination for spiky-headed douche bags who weren’t around when Ft. Lauderdale was still above sea level. As for you ladies, make sure to ask for Gigolo Joe!
THE DYSTOPIAN DOWNSIDE: Despite all the practical and personal perks of the advanced robotics in this world, one can’t help but think the human race is already doomed. So enjoy your stay while you can.
“THE NOT-TO-DISTANT FUTURE” (The year 2018, as imagined by 1975’s Rollerball)
What a world! And it’s only three years away!
No crime…no poverty…no unemployment. Everything’s been taken care of by corporations who run the world and know exactly what you need to be happy: Sports, sex and synthetic drugs, all of which are provided in abundance.
Even if you’re not content in your day job, these guys have turned designer drugs into an art form, creating pills specifically manufactured to make you dream to be anyone you want, from a corporate executive to a Rollerball champion. Speaking of which, Rollerball is the only sport left, but it’s so brutal, bloody and punishing that you’ll never miss the old days of the NFL or UFC. And yeah, players die on a regular basis, especially since the rules are changed more frequently than they are in NASCAR.
And the women? Depending on your status, one will be provided for you by the corporation as a reward! She’ll be waiting at home for you, tarted-up and glamorously garbed. Beats the hell out of trying to impress them on a first date, doesn’t it?
THE DYSTOPIAN DOWNSIDE: If you’re a woman, you’re pretty-much considered property. If you’re a man, you’re stuck wearing tight polyester bell-bottoms and shirts with ridiculously-flared collars. There aren’t any books either (which makes this place a total utopia for most 7th graders), but don’t worry…most of them have been transcribed and edited by a central computer, which sometimes works properly. And whatever you do, DON'T try to stand out from the crowd. Just pop your pills, enjoy your luxurious life, don’t ask questions and your stay will be a happy one.
Delos…the adult Disneyland. For $1000 a day, you can visit one of three distinct worlds, Medieval World, Roman World or Westworld, and indulge in your every whim. For example, in Westworld, you can rob banks, engage in gunfights and essentially kill anyone you want with absolutely no repercussions! Why? Because you’re simply shooting robots who are programmed to lose any lethal confrontation you initiate!
Afterwards, you can venture to the local brothel and take your pick of the many beauties in bustiers. Despite your initial inhibitions over having sex with a robot, these lovelies are willing, submissive and almost like the real thing (just don’t look at their hands).
THE DYSTOPIAN DOWNSIDE: Sometimes Delos’ computers go all funny, causing the robots to turn homicidal, which may have you questioning why they would arm their gunfighters with real bullets in the first place (especially if one Is chasing you). You also have to wonder whose job it is to sterilize the robots you (and everyone else) have been indiscriminately humping during your stay, and praying they do more than a quick ‘wipe down’ each day.
THE CITY (Logan’s Run)
The City is the perfect world of total pleasure…there’s just one catch…
Let’s take care of the pleasure part. It’s 2274; everyone is young, gorgeous and dressed in skimpy attire just one step removed from lingerie. They spend their days wandering a massive, climate-controlled domed city (looking a lot like a mall in downtown Dallas), indulging in whatever fancies them, having indiscriminant sex or engaging in orgies at the local Love Shop. But even if you aren’t inclined to mingle, you can stay home and simply use your remote control to have the perfect temporary partner materialize right in the room!
Need a break from all that uninhibited fornicating? Venture over to Carousel, take a seat and get your jollies watching some other poor rubes in leotards hoisted into the air before exploding.
THE DYSTOPIAN DOWNSIDE: Here’s the catch: Those poor rubes you enjoyed watching explode just turned 30, which is as long as you’re allowed to live. Anyone who tries to make it to 31 are hunted down by Sandmen, the few guys who appear to have actual jobs in this world (Hey, if you’re forced to work, why not have one that lets you kill people?). Still, you also have to ask yourself what would be better…30 years of engaging in nothing but self-indulgent pleasure, or working your ass off in a tedious job for decades before retiring at an age when you can no longer control your own bowels?
What do you say…shall we book your Dystopian Destination now?