My Dystopian Fairy Tale: Four Years Later
+ Postscript, Book Sale, & Upcoming Events with CJ Hopkins
Four years ago today, August 3, 2021, I posted my dystopian fairy tale, The Vapor, the Hot Hat, & the Witches’ Potion: A Fairy Story. A few weeks later, I published the book.
Since most of you arrived after its publication and likely missed it, I decided to reprint it below. The four-year marker is a good opportunity to reflect on where we are today versus then.
Do you remember what the world felt like in August 2021? Some people think that was a long time ago and we should forgive and forget. Those who fell for the COVID Big Lies—or worse, zealously enforced them—certainly want us to forget their role in dehumanizing us difficult dissidents.
But unless we understand exactly how and why we got there, the Big, Beautiful Club of cruelites, philanthropaths, tyrants, colluders, and their intellimafia will continue to repeat the same formula until they achieve their long-planned goals of technocratic tyranny.
This fairy tale, which poured out in one sitting without premeditation or hesitation, captures the well-worn totalitarian template with such simplicity and clarity, it helped people see through the facade of Greater-Good propaganda. Some readers told me they were able to share this with family members and friends who were resistant to nonfiction articles because the fictional, satirical format was nonthreatening, and others found comfort knowing someone else saw what they saw.
I recently mailed a copy to my lovely friend, Irish writer, and fellow Apocaloptimist Abby Wynne, who expressed a concern a couple others had articulated as well. I will share our exchange in a postscript following the story as it contains spoilers.
After that, I will share details about a couple upcoming reading and book-signing events I’ll be doing with CJ Hopkins as well as giving you an opportunity to purchase signed copies at an even bigger discount than my bulk rates.
But first, let’s take a moment to remember what happened once upon a time.
The Vapor, the Hot Hat, & the Witches’ Potion
A Fairy Story
Once upon a time in a prosperous land, a rumor swept across the kingdom that there was an invisible vapor floating through the air. Many vapors had come before, but this one was so extraordinary, it called for an extraordinary response.
This vapor, the town criers cried, could kill you at any time, anywhere. You could get it by talking, breathing, or singing. You could get it by standing or walking too closely to someone. You could even get it by playing. And the scariest thing of all—you could get it and not even know you had it.
The only way to escape was to hide indoors, keep away from people, and rub your hands with a clear jelly every time you touched something. Merchants stopped trading, apprentices stopped learning, and people stopped seeing people.
Every day, the town criers yelled out the number of people who had caught the vapor, although most didn’t know it since they felt the same as usual—just a lot more scared. They only learned they had it because of a certain spell a sorcerer had written down before the vapor came. The sorcerer had said it wasn’t supposed to be cast for vapors and couldn’t tell people if they had caught a vapor or not. But the sorcerer had died, and the king’s counselors decided to cast the spell, anyway, and that is how people found out they had the vapor.
The town criers shouted the latest death tolls so often their voices grew hoarse. Almost every one who died was very, very old or very, very sick or very, very fat. Hardly anyone else died, and at the end of the year, it would turn out about the same number had died as had in other years.
Still, it was a very scary vapor, and the entire kingdom had to change for the good of the public. The land was no longer prosperous, but the king just minted more coins and tossed them out to his subjects so they wouldn’t notice right away.
Eventually, people were told they could come out of hiding and the marketplace could open back up if everyone followed a few rules. They had to wear a hot, scratchy hat that covered their ears and eyes so the vapor couldn’t get into their earholes or eyeholes. They had to hop five times forward and five times backward if they accidentally got too close to another person. And, of course, they had to rub their hands with jelly after touching anything.
Some people thought the hats looked silly and were even a little dangerous since they made it hard for them to hear and see and made them sweat in the summer. The hopping took so much time, people weren’t able to get much done. When those people didn’t wear the hats or hop around, the rest of the people got very, very angry and said it was their fault people were dying and getting sick and couldn’t live the way they used to live. Some even took to wearing two or more hats for extra protection against the anti-hatters and anti-hoppers.
Every so often, the king would tell people to hide back inside again because too many people were catching the vapor. They couldn’t work or shop or visit people they loved. There wasn’t much to do besides lie around listening to the town criers, who always let people know how scared and angry and resentful they should all feel, especially toward the anti-hatters and anti-hoppers.
Suddenly, people started feeling more hopeful. A few witches who were richer than all the world’s kingdoms and queendoms combined offered to make a potion people would need to swallow every so often to keep them safe from the vapor—but it would only work if everyone drank it together.
It took a few months, but eventually the witches each had their own flavor—grape and orange and tropical punch—and they were ready to pour them into people’s mouths. Whenever potions had been made in the past, the witches had had to spend years and years making sure it was safe before giving it to people. This time, though, the vapor was so scary, they skipped all those steps so people could be saved sooner. They even got the king to issue a special decree so no one could hurt the witches if anything bad happened to them after drinking the potion. The king gathered three-quarters of the coins he had collected from the people that year and presented them to the witches.
Almost everybody couldn’t wait to drink the grape or orange or tropical punch potion. They bragged about going to get it and told everyone after they got their first and second drinks. When they came across someone who didn’t want to drink it, they got very, very cross. The town criers told everyone to yell at the anti-drinkers because it was their fault they couldn’t go back to life like it was before the vapor.
Something strange happened after people started drinking the potion. Some of them caught the vapor, anyway, but that was because it was a version of the vapor the witches hadn’t planned for—still, it was important to drink both doses of the potion because it was better than not drinking them. To be safe, though, the town criers said they should go back to wearing hot hats and hopping—although most hadn’t stopped to begin with because they were afraid of what would happen if they did (or worse, they might be mistaken for an anti-hatter, anti-hopper, or anti-drinker).
Even stranger, some of the people who had drunk the potion died either right after or not long after drinking it. Unlike the people who died from the vapor, these people were often very, very young or very, very healthy or very, very fit. The town criers never shouted about these deaths. If anyone brought it up, they called them an anti-hatter, anti-hopper, and anti-drinker.
Being an anti-drinker was the worst of all because everyone knows you need to drink to survive. If you’re against drinking the potion, you must surely be against drinking water, too, and we all know you can’t live without drinking water.
Not everyone who drank the potion died. Some just had peculiar things happen to their bodies. They shook all the time or got rare diseases or noticed parts of their bodies stopped working. They were bedridden or lame or hurt in different ways and couldn’t live the way they did before or even after the vapor. The town criers didn’t tell anyone about these people, either.
And then there were the drinkers who felt perfectly fine … for now. The potion had never been tried for longer than a few months, so no one was really sure what would happen in the next year or two or longer. It was also a different kind of potion than anyone had ever drunk before. This potion changed something inside you that could never be undone. People would also need to drink new versions of the potion every few months, and the king would need to continue giving three-quarters of the kingdom’s coins to the witches forever, or at least as long as the kingdom existed.
All the surviving drinkers were grateful to the witches and thanked them for saving their lives. They proudly displayed a mark on their chin that meant they’d drunk the potion. The ones who’d drunk it twice had two marks.
Those who didn’t have any marks were to blame for the kingdom’s problems. They weren’t permitted to shop in the marketplace or work or apprentice or take part in any public activities. They were shamed and shunned for being a threat to the people of the land. These people started to feel like they should leave the kingdom, but they weren’t allowed to travel without the double marks, and besides, all the other kingdoms and queendoms were the same as theirs, anyway. There wasn’t anyplace left where people weren’t afraid of the vapor and where they didn’t demand that everyone drink the potion.
Soon, the king decided the anti-drinkers were so dangerous, they would need to be locked in a dungeon until they agreed to drink the potion. They were free to choose whichever flavor they liked. If they decided not to drink, they would simply remain in the dungeon. It was entirely up to them.
One year passed, and then another. There were fewer and fewer people left in the kingdom. Eventually, so few people were left, the king could no longer collect enough coins to pay the witches. The rest of the kingdoms and queendoms around the world were in the same fix. They decided to join together into one king-queendom so they could collect enough coins to buy the potion.
After eight more years passed, there weren’t enough people left in all the world to cover the witches’ dues. The rulers decided everything that belonged to the people now belonged to the king-queendom. The people could still live in their hovels, but they wouldn’t own anything. They could earn their keep through labor—indeed, they might be put to work making the potion!
People no longer needed to decide what they wanted to do or be in life because the king-queendom would decide for them. People didn’t need to pay for anything because all the subjects got equally small amounts of the necessities. Everyone looked the same, acted the same, and thought the same.
Most people didn’t remember what it was like before the vapor. Some didn’t even know there was such a time.
The rulers, on the other hand, never wanted for anything. Nor did their friends, the town criers. The witches were the wealthiest of all—and deservedly so, as they had saved the world from the deadly vapor.
It wasn’t long before there were no more subjects. The rulers, the counselors, the town criers, and the witches had all the earth’s riches to themselves, and they lived happily ever after.
Postscript
July 2025 Exchange with Abby Wynne
AW:
I just received your gifts! How thoughtful of you, how wonderful! I’m deeply touched.
Is there anything I can do for you?
I’ll certainly share your book on my socials - is there a link where people can get a copy?
You are such a sweetheart
I hope you’re doing good, sending love across the waters.
MAA:
So glad I finally managed to get it in the mail to you! I am really poor at doing things in the physical world as anything that takes time away from my creative work gets back-burnered to oblivion.
That is so kind of you to share on your socials! …
Thank you so much, Abby, and sending you a boatload of love back 💗
AW:
Wow what a story. I read it today - everybody dies except for the bad guys. It’s not the kind of thing that I can promote - I’m for hope and overcoming the odds. I’m for the good guys winning because they walked away and made a better world.
So I feel I’m in a predicament here as I do want to support your work. But if I put my energy into something that ends badly then I’m putting my energy into a bad end and I can’t do that - it goes against my mission.
Hope you understand.
Maybe you could write a part 2? Your writing is always superb,
Much love.
MAA:
No need to feel pressured to promote it! I am an Apocaloptimist, so I am in complete harmony with your perspective.
This is written in the spirit of George Orwell and other dystopian writers who are warning what could happen if we don’t stand up to totalitarianism. It depicts how ordinary people can be deceived by propagandists, politicians, and tyrants into relinquishing their liberties and lives for lies.
I published it in August 2021 at the height of COVID tyranny to show the trajectory we were on if people of goodwill failed to summon the courage to resist it. A number of readers told me it helped break the spell for family members who refused to read nonfiction articles that threatened their worldview. The fictional, accessible format allowed them to see what was occurring more clearly because their defenses were down and it wasn’t a direct attack on their propaganda-implanted beliefs.
Although I originally wrote the story for adults, I was surprised to hear how many parents and children appreciated it. One parent ordered multiple copies for a homeschooling group and had the students read it to help teach them skepticism of authority, critical thinking, and the importance of resisting peer pressure. Some have told me their kids immediately got it and that it helped them develop the skills they would need to recognize and expose coercion, violations of our rights, emotional manipulation, and social engineering.
The idea was to inspire people to rise up to write a new ending, showing them we still have the power to change that outcome if we simply muster the backbone to say NO to tyranny.
Let’s Write a New Ending Together
A few people had a similar reaction to my dystopian short story In Five Years.
In both cases, the words flowed through me unbidden, and I was merely a conduit for the stories that wanted to be told. If the stories had wanted a happy ending, I would have happily delivered it. Forcing one on them, however, would be a betrayal of what I’d been given.
As someone who grew up loving dystopian novels and films, I’ve never found dark endings depressing but rather motivating.
When we are fed a cookie-cutter happy ending to a serious threat, our brains interpret this fictional scenario as a satisfying resolution to the tension preceding it. That means people go away feeling placated without any sense of urgency to play a role in stopping such a vision from coming to fruition.
I don’t want people to be left with a lazy feeling of complacency because some supplied hero has done all the hard work for them.
I want to spark Apocaloptimistic action, courageous resistance, and Badass disobedience in reality.
I want the sleeping to reclaim their minds, rediscover their critical thinking, recognize propaganda, defend our freedom, awaken to tyranny, and become ungovernable.
I want people to escape their socially engineered granfalloons, find their karass, and live their cheng.
It’s not too late.
The story isn’t over.
We can write a new ending together.
🖋 SALE on Signed Books! 📖
In honor of the four-year anniversary, I am running a special discount on my already-discounted bulk rates*. Get a jump start on your holiday shopping and stock up on year-round gifts for both the adults and children in your life!
1–4:
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📣 Once-in-a-Lifetime Opportunity to Hang out with CJ Hopkins & Me!
📆 Save the Dates: September 29–30, 2025
As I shared in my last post, CJ Hopkins will be making a road trip across America after twenty years of living as an expat in Germany. His plan is to talk to Americans of all backgrounds and persuasions about the state of the country for his next book project. CJ’s old friend and Professor of Photography Hugo Fernandez will be joining him to document the journey visually.
CJ has now announced the tentative schedule, which is a work in progress, so sign up for his Substack to keep apprised of the latest developments.
One of their stops will be in Southern Oregon, and CJ very graciously invited me to “read some of [my] stuff” at the events I’m organizing in Medford and Ashland.
Each event will include readings, book-signings, and a discussion segment with the audience so participants will have an opportunity to voice their opinions about the state of America for CJ’s book project. The September 29 reading will take place at Barnes & Noble in Medford, whereas the September 30 one will be a more informal gathering at The Noble Fox in Ashland.
Oh, and get your Woke friends (if you have any, and if they’re still talking to you) to participate as well! CJ just published an Epistle to the Wokians, which we’d be grateful if you’d help deliver to any Wokians you know. He dearly wants them to be part of this conversation to have as broad and accurate a representation as possible for his book and also to foster healing dialogue across the political spectrum.
Reading/Discussion/Book-Signing by CJ & Me
Monday, September 29, 6–8 pm
RSVPs appreciated for planning (reply to any of my newsletters to confirm interest)
Barnes & Noble
1400 Biddle Road
Medford, OR 97501
Informal Gathering for Reading, Dinner, Drinks, & Conversation with CJ & Me
Tuesday, September 30, 6–10 pm
RSVPs appreciated for planning (reply to any of my newsletters to confirm interest)
The Noble Fox
101 Oak Street
Ashland, OR 97520
Almost three years ago, I enjoyed a metaphorical My Dinner with CJ in our Dissident Dialogue. I never imagined I would be able to enjoy a literal dinner with CJ in person!
Two of CJ’s books have recently been published back-to-back—the latest collection of Consent Factory essays Fear and Loathing in the New Normal Reich: Consent Factory Essays, Vol. IV (2022–2024) and his dystopian novel Zone 23.
In addition to having signed copies of my fairy tale available for sale, I hope to complete a couple other small books in time for signing at these events.
Stay tuned for details, and CJ and I look forward to hanging out with you if you can make it!
© Margaret Anna Alice, LLC
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 | A guest post by
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I've lost more friends and loved ones after they receive the Jabs, then the ones that did not take it. Not a day goes by without me thinking about how much I miss them.
You are such a light in the darkness. Your story and the analogies are perfect. I hope some of those who need it will read your work and recognize themselves. Those who do are save-able, no? The entire affair showed us the real person in our families and associates. Some rose to the occasion and acted with courage and integrity. Most, sadly, showed themselves to be spineless cowards who will commit atrocities in order to maintain their social status and remain a member of the “in crowd”, the “cool kids”.