There's a Brexit inside us all.

The thirteenth sign of Qiyamat just came to pass with Britain (the "Great" now being questionable) voted itself out of the European Union.

The effects were immediate: the Pound fell, the EU threw up their collective arms in a Mexican wave of disappointment, and Facebook-warriors from as far as the colonies statused their sincere disgust at the obvious stupidity of 52% of the British people.

But is the outcome really that outlandish?

Sure, sitting a thousand miles away the fact that Brexit was even an option seemed bizarre. We all know that greater cohesion and cooperation between nations is the future of global economic growth. Britain reclaiming its "nationality" certainly seemed like a step backwards.

But this wasn't just an economic issue, a problem that could have been reduced to its mathematical components and logically solved.

This was one of the many anti-immigration posters put all over the country, pleading the people to come to their senses and "take control" of their country. Using the refugee crisis as fuel for their fear-mongering, the UKIP leaders painted a dystopian picture of hordes of unwashed non-white refugees flooding their streets, taking their healthcare and jobs, spreading disease and extremism.

This was a race issue. This was a xenophobic issue. This was an elitism issue. 

Already, social media is rife with reports from minorities (read non-white) in Briton facing harassment.

This evening my daughter left work in Birmingham and saw group of lads corner a Muslim girl shouting "Get out, we voted leave". Awful times

— Heaven Crawley (@heavencrawley) June 24, 2016

@miqdaad My 13 y/o brother had chants of "bye bye you're going home" at school today. He insisted that it was "a joke" but it worries me.

— Yasin. (@Yxsinyoh) June 25, 2016

Oh, but there is more:

 

The racism and bigotry literally don't fit the page.

Can we really be surprised of these after-effects of a campaign based on hate, alienation, and fear of those different from you?

But these aren't just the symptoms of an immoral, ailing western society. Not even a few weeks ago, right here in Pakistan, we experienced our very own version of mass, outspoken xenophobia and racism.

Border guard killed in Pakistan-Afghanistan clashes

Things heated up with the recent border clashes with Afghanistan, which resulted in loss of life and several injuries. However, the following hate-storm on social media brought to light the ugly sentiments of the people, lurking just below the surface.

Tweet upon tweet called for the explusion of all Afghan refugees, for the borders to be sealed, many accompanied with blatant racism and ethnic slurs. Was this much different that the so-called "stupidity" of the British people? Did we not also succumb to the same forces of fear, racism and self-interest over all, forgetting that the refugees were forced to leave everything behind from a war-torn home trusted in the generosity and humanity of their neighbors? 

We all have the capacity for racism, for judginh and alienating people who are different. We can very easily ignore the plight of refugees and focus on our hate of the "other", of how they bring crime, drugs and poverty.

What we need to realise is that these are the symptoms, not the causes of the problems. The real issues are war, strike, unemployment, discrimination, persecution, and the list heart-breakingly goes on and on. Blaming the victims only serves to further the divide, exacerbates the problems, and leaves no room for positive discourse and improvement.

Empathy is a dying trait, and we need to try our damnedest to hold onto whatever shreds that our left in this world full of pain and suffering.

The problem was never the refugees or lack of border control. It is, and always has been, our selfishness.  

 

Pirate Queen WIP

"Captain's log, star-date ... *yaaawn* what the d'ast ever. Day four of crossing the Eros Nebula. I think it's been four days ... eh. Yeah same old empty space, nothing to report."

Jay clicked off the recorder, and stretched back in the pilot's chair, rubbing his tired eyes, yawning with extra exasperation.

"D'ast I hate this glorking nebula! Why do even have to go through this boring as krutak pile of space nothing?!" Jay grumbled to himself, cursing his manager, his cargo, the customers and whatever poor souls he could recall.

The cockpit doors hissed open, and an uncomfortably cheery voice piped in, "Captain, I'm detecting elevated blood pressure, are you in need of assistance?"

Jay let out a defeated sigh, while slowly spinning around to the source of uninvited chirpiness. A small, dull-gold helper droid, virtual face pulled in a disarming smile, met the Captain's gaze of utter disdain.

Staring smoldering flames, Jay whispered,

"I hate you."

"Of course Captain," the little droid continued, oblivious to the waves of contempt. "My sensors indicate you are under stress. May I suggest looking out the window at the beautiful nebula?"

A vessel popped in Jay's forehead. He rose from his seat with a low guttural groan in his throat, arms outstretched with murderous intent.

The droid just kept smiling.

Jay slumped back in his chair, once again reminding himself that the bucket of bolts was literally the only thing that he could talk to for the next month. And although the escape from the eternal torture of programmed optimism would be most welcome, adding complete silence to the already dreary scenario was not a pleasant prospect.

"Make me a coffee or something," Jay mumbled, turning back to the screen.

The droid did a little hop of excitement, and wheeled away to the kitchen, leaving the surly Captain to watch re-runs of popular Kymelian soap-operas for the umpteenth time this delivery.

________________________________________________________________________________


The dregs of his too-sweet coffee now cooling on the console, Jay sat slouched over the controls, face resting on one hand, while he lazily moved the other in front of the screen pretending it was a starfighter zipping through the clouds.

Engrossed as he was in his his flight of fancy, complete with sound effects from his own mouth, Jay didn't notice the small dark shape rising from the colourful clouds ahead.

The dogfight in his head intensified as the unknown ship drew closer to Jay's freighter. Painted black with splatters of red, the many edged craft had a three-eyed Kree skull emblazoned on its helm.

Jay's console flashed red with proximity warnings, breaking him out of his reverie. He blinked, rather stupidly, at the very obvious pirate vessel pointing it's cannons at him.

The ship's communicator rang out with a hail from the pirates. Audibly shaking and visibly whimpering from stark cold fear, Jay answered the call.

Jay's screen replaced the threatening image of the ship's exterior with a daunting image of the ship's bridge. Through the dramatic dull lighting, Jay quickly counted at least twenty heavily armed and characteristic pirates.

Simultaneously praying to the gods of at least three different galactic religions, Jay's breath caught in his throat as the lights around their Captain's chair grew brighter.

Electric eyes flashed from a pale blue face, high cheeks and lips curled into a most triumphant smile. Long indigo hair streamed over one shoulder, capped with the traditional pirate head-wear. Pale blue neck flowed into pale blue chest, tight leather blouse hugging its volume. Slim shoulders and lean arms, bare except for leather wraps around the wrists, hands confidently holding onto the skull motif armrests of her chair. Infinite, thin pale blue legs, ending in heavy, spiked boots.

Jay stared mesmerised at the imperiously seated Kree Pirate Captain. The vision before him leaned forward, her lips parted. Jay leaned closer to the screen, oblivious to the drool accumulating at the side of his mouth.

Her lips moved.

"Surrender, or I'll pull your organs through each of your orifices."

Jay blinked, not comprehending the very real and immediate danger he was in.

Realising that he probably should say something, Jay tried swallowing, but ended up dry heaving as if he was choking on a chicken bone.

The silence made even more awkward, had the pirates shifting uncomfortably and trying not to make eye contact with either each other or the strange, frankly pathetic Terran on the screen. The Captain, recovering herself, attempted to save face and restore the balance of power:

"The poor Terran balks in pure terror!"

The crew joined in the ensuing laughter and mockery, a bit too enthusiastically to be completely sincere.

The Pirate Captain lithely sprang out of her chair, approached the screen, and leaned forward. Jay, paralysed, stared at the striking visage filling the view, his mind melting into incoherence.