By the Ghost of HST
JANUARY 28, 2025
Peter Thiel has property in New Zealand. Jeff Bezos has a space station blueprint that reads like a Bond villain’s vision board. Mark Zuckerberg? He’s quietly constructing a $270 million high-security estate called Koʻolau Ranch on Kauaʻi, spread across 1,400 acres of pristine jungle and farmland. The project includes more than two dozen buildings, including a 5,000-square-foot underground shelter equipped with blast-resistant doors, an escape hatch, and independent food and energy systems. Workers were required to sign NDAs. Local contractors were allegedly fired for asking questions. There’s even a zipline across the property—perhaps to survey the end times with a smoothie in hand.
In 2017, five billionaires invited media theorist Douglas Rushkoff to a remote desert resort. They weren’t interested in future tech. They wanted to know one thing:
“How do I maintain authority over my security team after the event?”
Rushkoff later described the conversation in Survival of the Richest, calling it a “billionaire’s survival fantasy” masquerading as a tech summit. These were not preppers. They were CEOs. PowerPoint pirates. Men who couldn’t imagine a future with the rest of us in it.
This is the logic of Doomsday, Inc.—where the top 0.01% no longer debate how to fix the world. They plan their exit strategy and outsource the fallout. We used to build utopias in fiction. Now we build bunkers with biometric locks and filtered air systems that can withstand a nerve agent attack—or, presumably, the return of the Greys.
You think I’m exaggerating. I’m not.
Luxury survival companies like Rising S Company and Vivos sell multi-million dollar underground “residences” with cinema rooms, gyms, and “psychological shielding.” The New Zealand government has quietly restructured its immigration laws in anticipation of elite “end-time migration.” Bunker blueprints now include kill-switches for private security systems—so the hired help doesn’t seize control when the boss runs out of imported sardines.
Meanwhile, you and I are being sold “resilience webinars,” trauma-informed yoga mats, and Etsy-branded emergency prepper kits filled with chamomile tea and printable affirmations. The working class gets a “grit” podcast and a debt spiral. The elite get an escape pod with a heated bidet and satellite internet—perfect for livestreaming the fall of civilization in 4K.
In the absence of any faith in the common good, we’re watching the billionaires try to privatize survival itself. The pitch decks are real:
- Fully autonomous underground villas
- Island-based climate bunkers
- “Ethically sourced doomsday caviar” (yes, that’s a thing)
There’s even a whisper circuit in Silicon Valley about “post-collapse governance models.” That’s not satire. That’s a planning document.
So while we argue over gas stoves and subsidized insulin, Zuckerberg is ziplined into a Jurassic Park–sized fortress, and Elon’s drawing up “Plan C” from a Starlink bunker that might just have a direct line to whatever crashed outside Roswell in 1947. Maybe the aliens were just early investors in the exit strategy.
Welcome to Doomsday, Inc.
The product is survival. The market is fear. The rest of us are just beta testers.
Filed from a converted missile silo near Roswell where the Wi-Fi only works if you chant “late-stage capitalism” into the air vent.
