Progress City: Rome All Over Again

Welcome, ladies & gentlemen, to Progress City, the gleaming metropolis of the future—or, as we like to call it, Rome 2.0, now with more Wi-Fi and less philosophy. Yes, behold the triumph of modern civilization, where we’ve achieved the impossible: building a fragile house of cards on top of the ashes of every lesson history tried to teach us.

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Progress City is an architectural marvel, a skyline littered with glass boxes of indeterminate purpose, each competing to see which can reflect the most sunlight directly into your retinas. You’ve got your office buildings, your overpriced condos, and your mega shopping malls, each more soulless than the last, all bathed in the warm glow of digital billboards advertising things you can’t afford but will buy anyway because, hey, we’ve all got credit cards. That’s progress.

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But what makes Progress City truly remarkable is not the buildings—it’s the people. Here, we’ve perfected the art of the hustle. From dawn to dusk, its citizens race like hamsters on a wheel, pursuing the elusive dream of "getting ahead." And what a dream it is! You can climb your way to the top of the corporate ladder, where your reward is a bigger cubicle and a slightly less condescending email from your boss.

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The social fabric of Progress City is woven together with threads of digital detachment. Sure, the Romans had the Forum, where citizens gathered to debate politics and philosophy, but why waste time talking to people when you can swipe right or left, double-tap, or post a story about your avocado toast? In Progress City, our public square is a virtual echo chamber where everyone’s voice is loud, but no one’s listening.

 

Democracy 2.0—now with fewer ideals and more memes!

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Speaking of democracy, let’s not forget our beloved leaders in Progress City. No longer do we have emperors draped in togas; now we have politicians draped in ambiguity, their promises as empty as the parking lot outside a Blockbuster. These leaders have mastered the fine art of saying nothing while smiling like they just discovered a tax loophole. They don’t build roads or fix infrastructure, but by God, do they know how to cut ribbons at grand openings.

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And what about the plebeians? The everyday folk? Well, fret not! In Progress City, you can achieve anything you set your mind to—if by "anything," you mean working three jobs to afford rent in a studio apartment that’s smaller than a Roman chariot. The ancient Romans had bread and circuses to keep the masses happy, but here in Progress City, we have Netflix and fast food—keeping you entertained and fed without ever leaving your couch, just as Caesar intended.

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Urban planning in Progress City is truly a stroke of genius. The traffic is designed to flow as smoothly as molasses in January, with highways that offer the authentic experience of being trapped in a time loop, forever late to work but never quite arriving. Our public transport system is a marvel of modern inefficiency, where every ride is a journey into the unknown—will the train arrive on time, or will you experience a breakdown of epic proportions? It’s like a gladiator fight between your patience and reality, and reality always wins.

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But what truly sets Progress City apart is its obsession with progress for the sake of progress. We’ve created more apps than diseases, and more fast fashion than fresh air. The environment? Oh, we’ve left that in the capable hands of the next generation—after all, it’s their problem now. While the Romans drained their resources to build aqueducts, we drain ours for Bitcoin farms and influencer mansions. If that’s not progress, I don’t know what is.

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Of course, no satire of modern civilization would be complete without mentioning our culture of success. Success in Progress City is measured not by wisdom or character, but by how many followers you have on social media. Forget Socrates and his "unexamined life"; here, the only life worth living is the one that can be curated, filtered, and shared for maximum likes. Everyone’s an emperor in their own digital empire, ruling over a domain of selfies, hashtags, and fake inspirational quotes.

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In the end, Progress City isn’t just a city—it’s a state of mind. It’s the modern Rome, complete with collapsing institutions, overworked citizens, and a leadership class more concerned with their next PR stunt than with actual progress. But don’t worry, just like Rome, we’re invincible, right? The cracks in the foundation are purely aesthetic, and the barbarians at the gates? They’ve probably just come to check out the new artisanal coffee shop.

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So let us raise a glass—to Progress City, where the future looks just like the past, only with better marketing and worse weather. And remember, when in Rome—sorry, I mean, Progress City—do as the endlessly scrolling, increasingly indifferent citizens do: Keep your head down, your Wi-Fi connected, and your existential dread safely repressed.

 

That’s progress for you.