The 2011 Portlandia pilot proclaimed: “the dream of the 90s is alive in Portland.” In Portland the End of History was never tainted by war and recession. It was where the Last Man could ride his unicycle to the tattoo parlor after brunch. What happened?/1

Around 2016, the Portlandian Last Man’s fitful ennui metastasized into corrosive spleen. His sweet life in a playground of ethical consumerism turned bitter. Only one thing could remedy this malaise: the return of History. His leisurely life was soon consumed by this task./2

A cargo cult formed from the throngs of frenzied Last Men seeking to burst through the Fukuyaman tedium. Already long accustomed to retro crazes and eccentric hobbies, they began to reenact street battles of 1930s Europe, which surely was about as Historical as you could get./3

They were helped in this endeavor by similarly angst-ridden youths from the suburbs and exurbs who gamely played the part of the “fascists” they sought to confront. The cargo cult, it seemed, was working, summoning up the spectral enemy whose arrival signaled History’s return./4

Other signs indicated success, such as the appearance of jackbooted thugs in unmarked vans. And yet, a question still nagged at these Last Men: is this really History, or just a LARP? Only blood would be definitive proof. The cargo cult needed to upgrade to a sacrificial cult./5

And yet, the question would continue to torment these Last Men. Was the blood they were shedding any more real than the piercings and tattoos they had once devoted themselves to in their End of History torpor? Was this the end of the cursed dream of the 90s, or its culmination?/6

(This thread dedicated to @BungaCast)