Coded Politics
"If you don't vote, you can't emote."
“A little higher, honey.”
Ronald obediently moved the corner of the Election ’76 sign up a few inches. ‘If you don’t vote, you can’t emote.’
“That’s too high.”
He moved it back down. Why hadn’t they invented a smart decorator yet? For hundreds, maybe thousands of years, husbands had heard “just a little higher” and no one has invented a solution yet?
When Sarah pronounced it good enough, he tacked it into place on the back fence and climbed down the ladder. He pressed the retract button on the ladder, and it telescoped down into the “compact carrying position” advertised by the company. It was over a foot tall, not counting the handle. Did that really qualify as compact in this modern day and age? Ronald set the compacted ladder on the Gopher and said “garage”. The little six-wheeled Gopher beeped and rolled off around the corner of the house. It would be back in a few minutes after dropping off the ladder. He checked his watch. Their neighbors and friends would be arriving soon.
“Sarah, I’m going to get the grill started,” he called. He walked over to the new smart solar grill and tied on an apron that read “Grillmaster at work.” He pressed the power button and the silver lid lifted. “Hamburgers and hot dogs. Some veggie dogs. And a hypo-allergenic eggplant burger.” He got those special for the Phillips kid.” The temp indicator lit up and he could hear the burger press getting started. The lid whispered shut. He’d come back to check on it in a bit.
The opening of the smart access backyard gate caught his attention. Clipping down the edge of the yard, along the side fence, came the green and brown low profile, low decibel, self-programming, weather-aware GrassChomper 2k. The wheels were the tallest part of the mower, allowing it to easily mow under even lawn furniture. “Hey! Cut that out. You aren’t supposed to mow today. We’ve got a barbeque!” The automower ignored him. “Dang it. Hey, Chomper!” The mower slowed and chimed an attentive response. “Turn off. Go back to the garage. Postpone mowing.” It chimed back a disappointed chord and turned around, the whirring blades quiescent.
John Lambert laughed as it passed him on his way into the backyard. He held the gate open for it. “Mower got the jump on you, did it?”
“Yeah, I forgot it rained yesterday, so it rescheduled itself. Always takes me three tries to get the right wording. Listens to Sarah every time on the first command, though. No respect.” They laughed and sat down beside the cooler. “Cooler, two chilled beers.” The cooler presented two chilled beers, one after the other, through the vent on top.
“So, who’s your pick for this year’s election?”
“Watson Xiv all the way. You?”
“You know me, I’m a strict Meta party voter. Makes it easy, the voting ballot even fills it all in for me. What makes you in favor of Watson?”
“I like the platform. Even has an app.”
“Oh really?”
“Yep. I already downloaded it. If Watson wins, I’ll be able to see how they’re voting on all the issues and stuff in real time. State of the Union reports every month. Google knows what they’re doing.”
John whistled. “Have to admit, that’s nice. Phillips!” He hailed the incoming family. Phillips joined them while his wife went into the house to find Sarah. Their son sat down at the next table. “Hi,” he said without lifting his eyes from his screen. They both said hi back. “What’s he doing?”
“Word game, I think,” replied Phillips. “Wish he’d play something a little more active, but at least he’s smart.”
“Yeah, good kid. I was all virtual football at his age.” John lowered his voice. “Well, that and digital dance club.”
Ronald laughed. “Oh, I remember that one. Spent a lot of hours, and a lot of allowance, in there!”
“So, what were you guys talking about before I came up?” Phillips helped himself to a beer from the cooler. On ‘social gathering’ mode, it would respond to anyone’s request.
“The election, of course. Who’re you voting for?”
“You’re going to think I’m crazy, but I’m voting for Solomon. That’s a candidate for the people.”
Both Ronald and John groaned dramatically. “An open source candidate?” “You know open source never actually wins. They just split the vote from the company candidates.”
“Yeah, yeah, I know. But all the company candidates are programmed by Big Tech and Big Government. An open source president would be a government by the people, for the people.”
“Well, anything is better than what we have now,” commented John. “Siri US has no personality at all. And after last year’s ‘Australia doesn’t exist’ fiasco, I can’t believe they’re even still running it.”
“Oh no,” countered Phillips. “Siri US has a whole new update. The latest political software. I think they’re going to be a front runner again.”
Phillips’s boy piped up from his phone, eyes still on the screen. “Dad, my AI class facilitator for US History has been talking about Presidents Washington and Lincoln. Do you think I could be president someday?”
“Not anymore, buddy,” Phillips responded.
“It used to be that way, kid,” chimed in John. “But once the Dems and Pubs had completely turned it into a circus, we realized that government is something that AI could do much better than people. Now, humans don’t run for office anymore. Now we vote which political operating system to put in place for the country.”
“If you really want to make a difference,” added Ronald. “Be an influencer. Those are the people that guide our country.” John and Phillips nodded their agreement.
The grill opened up and sang, announcing the completion of the burgers and dogs. Ronald loaded them all onto plates.
“Oh, Ronald, this burger is delicious. I swear, no one grills like you.”
“Thanks, mate.” Ronald took real pride in serving his friends. “I appreciate your support.”
