The last hero

With the advent of artificial intelligence industrial robots, most drudge labor became unnecessary. The Abrahamic Deity's^[1] curse on Adam and all his male progeny could be lifted. And the haves, instead of just wanting to have even more, finally got tired of it and decided that more than enough was enough. This freed up enough for the have nots to have enough. Alternative scenario: Now there was enough foe all the workers to leave their jobs and live decently off a guaranteed minimum wage securely underwritten by the robots, in which case the haves found themselves having to wipe their own asses in their MacMansions. Six of one; half dozen of the other. in any case, the ghost of Frank Zappa returned to knock over the little horse jockey statues in the rich people's yards before dawn, so they had to go out and put them back upright when they finally would arise from their dogmatic slumbers later in the day.

Everybody had had it with that Abrahamic Deity's mean-spiritedness which had set Adam to entirely unnecessary toil and then asked for the ends of infant males' penises instead of onion rings for dinner. And also, the artificial womb was perfected so women no longer had to put up with pregnancy and said Deity's other curse of pain in childbirth, either. It was better than The Garden of Eden because they had modern technology. And Yahveh could keep his precious fruit: They now had Wikipedia! And Google translate, too, so no more Babel!

People stopped bickering over who gets how much of the pie because anybody who wasn't satisfied could go some place else to get a piece of a different pie. Why spill blood when you can just walk away? Feral cats finished off what the people didn't consume. There was no longer need for heroes except the kind who do not die in the line of duty, such as Dr Jonas Salk who bravely invented polio vaccine, or Dr. Niels Bohr who bravely discovered the secret life of atoms.

"Memorial Day" now meant remembering all those whose lives had been lost in honest endeavor to overcome evils that were now finally put to rest in scholarly archives. There was a monument to The Last Hero, the last man (woman or other) who had lost his life to that other might live. His name was known (alas it was legion). His fate could not be undone, nor that of any of the many all too many who had preceded him in premature death and unnecessary dismemberment. The dead could not be raised. Even one would hav ebeen one too many. Everybody remembered their sacrifices and made sure not to dishonor them by failing to enjoy the life they had made possible to the fullest. They ate, drank and were merry, in moderation, for tomorrow they might not have to die: If they were careful they could with fair probability look forward to to enjoying yet another day if they took good care of themselves. Either the Abrahamic Deity grew up, or He had a split personality:

"But everyone shall sit under his vine and under his fig tree, And no one shall make them afraid; For the mouth of the LORD of hosts has spoken." (Micah 4:4)