Is Elon Burning Earth to Build a Mars Reich?
How Elon Musk’s Actions Stoke the Fires of History’s Darkest Lessons
Elon Musk isn’t clueless. He’s calculated.
That Nazi salute? If truly intended that way, it wasn’t a slip-up. It was a signal.
He knows what it means. He understands history better than most of us.
This is the “genius” who reshaped industries, conquered space, and named one of his 12 children X Æ A-Xii (with interpreting implications that scream, “I’m above conventions and accountability”).
Elon mocks norms and traditions with every small step. This isn’t a man who “accidentally” stumbles into symbolism. He takes a giant lean into leveraging it.
Now he’s cozying up to Germany’s ‘Alternative for Germany’ (AfD)—a party infamous for its extremism.
Why?
To normalize the unthinkable. To rewrite the rules.
Orwell warned us. 1984 wasn’t fiction. It was a warning—and Musk may be reading it as a playbook.
“The party told you to reject the evidence of your eyes and ears. It was their final, most essential command.” ― George Orwell, 1984
Musk’s not flirting with autocracy; he’s testing how far he can push the envelope. A tech overlord posing as a “free speech” crusader, while his platforms amplify hatred disguised as, “Freedom of Speech,” (so as long as it fits his agenda.)
Think this is all coincidence?
Look closer.
Chaos on Earth feeds his Mars fantasy. The more broken this world becomes, the more we’ll cling to his escape plan. A modern Big Brother, selling salvation—for a price.
Trump’s circus? Merely a sideshow. Musk’s ambitions are cosmic. He’s not building rockets. He’s building leverage.
The AfD alliance, the salute, the Orwellian doublespeak—what he calls “free speech” is silencing resistance. These aren’t missteps. They’re moves on a chessboard.
He thrives on division. On exhaustion. On distraction, while democracy erodes.
History Doesn’t Forget.
The Holocaust didn’t begin with gas chambers. It began with echo chambers—whispers, salutes, and powerful men winking at bigots. All while the world was distracted by clatter, division, and the hatred of “us” versus “them.”
Musk knows this. And he’s counting on us forgetting.
He is not far-right. Nor would he have been a far-left chameleon had Kamala won. He’s far up—on a rocket’s wing, untethered by ideology, propelled by a vision of supremacy.
Listen.
I don’t promote polarity—I warn against it. Don’t pick sides here, not even mine. Choose sovereign democracy.
Remember: Democracy is a system of government where power belongs to the people—to everyone.
But when we surrender that trust to self-anointed, charismatic, power-thirsty leaders with hidden agendas, it ceases to be “we, the people.” It becomes “them”—the few, ruling over the many.
Didn’t we already revolt against a monarchy in 1776? Does it make sense to willingly return to the oppressive hierarchy we fought so hard to leave behind?
History warned us, and it’s begging us not to forget.
Are you awake?
Elon is no savior. No king. His child’s name, X Æ A-Xii, isn’t “quirky.” It’s a middle finger to norms—exactly like his politics. His salute at the inauguration, the AfD appearance. That’s a message to everyone.
Musk doesn’t follow the rules. He rewrites them entirely.
If we do not stop this trajectory, 1984 won’t only be a book. It will be reality. Surveillance. Authoritarianism. A boot stamping on the human face—forever. This time, the boot has a Tesla logo.
He needs Trump; a pawn in his interstellar 4d chess game. And if he wins, humanity loses.
Who else has Musk romanticized into his ambitions? Are you one of “them?”
Did you pick a side? Perhaps you think you’re one of us?
Here’s the bitter truth: no matter which side you choose, we are all pawns in his game.
Mars won’t save us. It will be a gilded cage for the so-called “worthy” while Earth becomes the Mars welfare program. Until Earth dries up into the new red, blood-stained, dead planet.
Sure, I want to witness history—the first human footprint on Mars. Just like the rest of us, I’d marvel at that ‘one small step.’
But if it means setting the world on fire, plunging Earth into chaos, and justifying the siphoning of our planet’s resources—not for the Mars, but for his Mars—then it’s not time to hit the brakes before these ideals launch into tomorrowland.
Picture this:
Humanity’s first triumphant step onto Martian soil, the historic moment broadcast live, exclusively on X.com. Forty-five minutes of tense anticipation—the delay courtesy of the vast, empty void between Earth and the red planet—before the spectacle finally unfolds.
A pristine black-and-white spacesuit glimmers beneath the Martian sun. The boots, polished to perfection, bear an unmistakable “X” logo, a stark reminder of who orchestrated this cosmic exodus.
The “pioneer” leaps off the craft with a flourish, as if descending onto a stage at a rally in Philadelphia.
He pauses. His eyes dart across the barren landscape, glazed with rocket lag and a touch of manic euphoria. Then, with the practiced conviction of a man who’s recited this moment in his mind a thousand times, he stares straight into the camera and declares:
“One small step for the chosen, one giant fall for the rest.”
The world holds its collective breath.
And then—another figure descends. Golden boots slam into the rust-red soil, sending Martian dust spiraling into the air.
This one moves differently. He straightens slowly, deliberately, his helmet catching the dim gray reflection of Earth—a distant reminder of the chaos left behind.
A burst of static. Then, a raspy, unmistakable voice slices through:
“By the time this reaches you, we’ll be sipping the most beautiful Bloody Marys on this incredible new planet. And all ‘you people’? Back there? Just remember: nobody does space like me, believe me. I’m the best. You’re all a bunch of suckers and losers.”
The camera pans, revealing a billowing Martian flag—a deep red banner embroidered with golden letters: “Make Mars Great Again.”
Behind the first man, something peculiar emerges. He unloads a stark white object from the spacecraft, its sleek design punctuated by a faucet. A symbol of luxury on a desolate frontier.
As he turns to face the camera, the static returns. His voice cuts through once more, dripping with irony:
“Let that sink in.”
The screen glitches, pixelating into chaos. The scene freezes—an eerie, final disconnect from everything Earth once was.
A haunting realization settles over the viewers, a silent reckoning with what they advocated, voted for, and were so easily pawned into.
Sure. That sounds a little dramatic. Or does it?
Regardless, it serves as an example of the underlinings of hidden agendas. Of a society where checks and balances are removed to shift power and control. To hand authority over to the messiah-complex, cult of personalities.
Is that what you want?
This isn’t progress.
This isn’t the next chapter of humanity’s grand story.
This isn’t democracy. This is Elon Musk’s game of survival—on his terms, for his vision, and for his chosen.
The rest of us? Left behind to burn.
But survival for whom? Only those who align with his ideals. The rest? Left behind—or worse.
Sound familiar?
History is screaming at us.
The question is: will we listen this time?
Or will we play with fire until his rockets—and our freedoms—go up in smoke?
Stop applauding the arsonist. Put out the flames.
Musk is not merely colonizing Mars. He’s colonizing minds. Turning division into profit. Hate into clout.
All under the guise of democracy. A mask bearing Nikola Tesla’s face, but beneath it? An “innovator” grinning.
If we do not end this, democracy becomes a relic. Freedom? A glitch in his code.
Be careful what you vote for. What you tolerate. You just might get it.
Musk isn’t the future. He’s a warning.
Silence will not save us. Only action will.
We don’t need to save Mars. We need to protect Earth—from dangerous ideologies and unchecked power.
Ashes to ashes. Musk to dust.
Wake up.
Or watch it all burn.
Be the voice that rises against it, or the silence that fuels the flames.
The choice is yours—speak now, or let the future be written without you.