Wherever you look today - the news, Twitter, or even out your window - it’s clear that we’re slipping into a kind of dystopian apocalypse. But which kind? Will we be living in the gasoline starved and leather chap Burning Man but worse dystopia of the Mad Max series? Or is this going to be a Walking Dead thing where we’re all just sort of wandering around in the clothes we used to wear to work until we get really into farming and samurai swords? Hopefully none of that comes to pass. Instead of fending off zombies and militaristic hoarders with barbed wire wrapped baseball bats I suggest that we take a trip back to the early 1990s.

The dystopian apocalypse of the early 1990s is a kind of have your cake and eat it to end of the world scenario. In this version of the end of the world the world doesn’t really end, it just goes back. We still have cities, technology is still prevalent (albeit in a manner that’s left of the dial) and if you want to be one of those people who shaves their heads and wears a giant silver HAZMAT suit you can do that. The early ‘90s has options.

I’m not saying everything’s going to be easy. There will be roving gangs of punks and ninjas, but that’s just how things are in the early ‘90s. According to Double Dragon, Class of 1999, Class of Nuke ‘Em High, or pretty much any sci-fi movie with the word “Class” in it we’ll have to be vigilant against uber-violent young toughs trained in chain fighting and karate. I know that sounds stressful but it’s OK because rocket launchers and cyber-weapons are more prevalent than ever. Or maybe you’d just rather be a toxic waste mutant, in the early ‘90s that’s always an option and I support your alternative toxic lifestyle.

It’s not just the ninjas and rocket launchers that I’m looking forward to now that we’re (hopefully) sliding into an early ‘90s dystopia, it’s the technology. It’s not what will be invented but rather the chunkiness of it all. I miss the tactile sensation of wrapping my mitts around a too thick cassette player and walking through shelves full of VHS tapes on a Friday afternoon. I know that COVID-19 is going to keep us all inside for the time being, but I can’t wait for the day that I can walk to the arcade/secret-dojo-run-by-an-underground-crime-lord carrying an iPod the size of a coffee cup while I listen to the same mix over and over again.

Lastly, it’s the drugs of this new version of the early ‘90s that I’m most excited about. Each of them synthetic, all of them with names like “Miracle” and “X0-17.” I’ve heard if you take the right amount of “Space” when you’re logged onto the net you actually become AOL, but that’s just a rumor.

We should continue washing our hands while we practice social distancing, but let’s also use this time to stock up on the necessities for the coming early ‘90s dystopia: green hair dye, combat boots, silver shirts and tiny sunglasses. The past is going to be bright.

You can follow Jacob Shelton on Twitter and Instagram or read more of his work in Mindfuck or in like every issue of Kill Pretty.