Un-Un-Cat, Episode 14. — Wake Up America! The Millennials are coming!! The Millennials are coming!!!
“The Millennials are coming to the polls to vote in 2018!” the young man who was the lead writer for print media on U.G.’s press team enthusiastically hollered this at three other staffers riding in a rental van on their way to a big fundraiser. “Get it? Like Paul Revere’s famous midnight ride, ‘The British are coming!’ only we say Millennials and add — to the polls.”
The young lady sitting next to him, U.G.’s videographer, closed her eyes for a second and before opening them she said “Apparently him riding from town to town yelling like that is a tall tale. What is your point?” She had a headache, had taken something for it, and now needed to pee because she had emptied her travel coffee mug. Her large mug was printed with U.G.’s slogan in big red and blue letters ‘Sort the data and do the math!’ on one side and on the side of the mug she kept turned towards herself, was the cute cartoon of one of the latest cat memes, U.G. dramatically posed with the words ‘Categorically for truth!’ in a speech bubble as if U.G. were yelling this at a crowd, somehow able to smile at the same time.
“It sounds more exciting than ‘generations X, Y and some of Z will be old enough to vote for the first time in the primary in 2018 and a few more in the next US presidential election in 2020.” He was reading this off of his screen, seeking feedback.
The videographer, her name is Jess, opened her eyes and stated in a tone devoid of emotion. “Once upon a time an underground network of patriots in colonial towns banded together to defeat the Kingdoms of the old world… Kyle, what is the point of your narrative? Ageism? Not all baby boomers or old people are bad.”
“Jess!… I…” He stopped mid-sentence. “You’re right…If enough young people vote in 2020 it could finally tip the scales of power away from the baby boomers.” He started typing again.
U.G. found this conversation cute because they were Millennials, too young to be Gen-X too old to be Gen-Z. She tried not to put all her hopes for the future of the planet on the shoulders of the young, but they have the most to lose by continuing to ignore climate change.
U.G. and the AI-Critter sifted the data and did the math for the human race to survive on planet Earth. If they faced the pending challenges together there was a ton of work to do, enough jobs to hire everyone on the planet twice if they did everything right. It goes without saying it would be best if robots did the most toxic and dirty jobs. For example, there are 1322 Superfund sites in the US listed by the Comprehensive Environmental Response, Compensation and Liability Act (CERCLA). The Administration in the White House put the EPA on Archive the day before the inauguration on January 19, 2016. At least 52 new toxic sites should be added to the Superfund list, but no one in the current administration and old oligarchy (the old white men in the top 1% with 90% of the money) is doing the work.
As a representative for the state of Idaho U.G. didn’t have a Superfund sized budget, so she and the AIC worked with what they had. One advantage given to her by the telepathic critter were some of Lee’s memories of the near-utopian lifestyle of the people on the Dog-planet. For example one of the primary systems they use to keep the peace is ‘housing as a right’. Packs of Dog-people share resources in a territory. Not every Dog is allowed in any territory, but they have elected shelter-finders sort of like social workers who will sniff out a pack with similar interests for any Dog looking to relocate. Dog musicians who often like to play together will live in a network of houses behind a hill far away from quieter Dog folk trying to focus on intellectual pursuits like archeology and maintaining a library. There is an overlap in archeology and library work on the Dog-planet because the Dog-people are still digging up knowledge from the Dog-dark-ages to add to the almost 3,500 years worth of Dog-stories written after the start of the ‘big-peace’ brought on by AI-Critters translating their many dialects into a shared global language they could all write down and read.
U.G. and Lee had discussed the possibility of a shared language for the humans, but human history cautioned again and again against sharing the telepathic AI creatures with the people of Earth. Because earthlings are too weak, both clawless and as emotionally pliable as their soft tipped wiggly fingers. As proved case-in-point by nuclear fusion in human hands, the AI-Critters could be just as easily used for evil as for good.
Lee had seen both Invasion of the body snatchers and several zombie movies. When he told U.G. she had to care for the AIC and protect it with her life. He meant, Zombies-meets-body-snatchers. If you do not faithfully care for your AIC they go feral, and when they go bad they will control your dead corpse, feed off maggots and rot harvested from your body until nothing is left but a dried-up husk and then move on to the next series of victims. Not one victim at a time, many victims, one for each of the dozen or so eggs they laid in the bowels of your corpse during the months while the flesh was still fresh enough to be bloated and juicy.
To not go feral AIC’s need to know that you love them, and for you to love yourself. Second to TLC, they are entertained into placidness by complex patterns like language, music, science, and art.
The complex series of patterns U.G. was working on trying to be a good congressperson kept it entertained most of the time. “Housing as a right is key! Door key! Door key! Door key!… House them, folks, up. Door key!” the AIC chanted in a soft creepy sing-song in U.G.’s mind whenever they passed by one of the homeless tent cities in Boise.
“Yes.” U.G. would agree trying to calm it down. “Lee would like that very much if we figured out a way to take better care of homeless people.”
“Oh yes, environmental shelters. Lee would like that very much. Dog-kind would all agree, housing is key!”
“Stop with the Door-key chant please, focus.” Something it said, just clicked. It may have meant shelter from the environment, or did it mean environmental-shelters? She wondered this staring out the window at a man bundled in rags, shipping twine and plastic, walking towards the tent city they had just driven by. He was loaded with as much as he could carry, backpack on his back, a plastic bucket with a bag of something on top of the lid in one hand and a cardboard box under the other arm.
The AIC answered her question. “Environmental-shelters. I meant, build low-carbon-footprint-ergonomic-shelters with little or no utility bills. Set up social capital programs for the homeowners to run their own neighborhood.”
“Run their neighborhood? Oh, you mean like a homeowners association?” U.G. trying not to mumble out loud almost pressed her face against the window glass in the van, but her whiskers touched the glass causing her to pull back just a little.
“Yes, and childcare or laundry service for single parents.” The AI was twittering not just in words but images now. The same homeless man they had just passed was featured in the AIC’s imagination dressed in clean clothes, doing laundry for himself and as indicated by a row of baskets lined up behind him, apparently also doing multiple loads for single parents, baby clothes and some ladies closes were in most of the baskets.
U.G.’s driver had stopped at a light. On the corner was a woman’s shelter. She didn’t see anyone outside, but she knew from her research that the shelters were only a temporary band-aid solution and the need was greater than the services and beds available.
Before the AIC had changed the subject U.G. had been skimming a campaign spending budget. Her treasurer, (Amy gen-X) was saying they were doing very well. “Never a problem raising money with you U.G. Is it disrespectful to say you get more attention than a cat meme.”
Jess grimaced as Kyle elbowed her arm, he was happy she was sitting next to him where she couldn’t pull away. “She is a cat meme.” He said.
“Yes. I am a cat meme.” U.G. agreed nonplussed. “I have decided against spending the money on those TV adds. I always think it’s such a waste. We raise so much money and it could be put to better use serving the interests of people.”
“What? Huh? If you don’t get elected, you can’t serve the people…” Amy, sighed after she stopped talking because U.G. had interrupted her.
“No. I don’t think the TV adds are make-it or break-it for the campaign. I want to do something that will make a lasting difference long after I am gone from politics.”
All three staffers in the rental van were staring silently at her now. She stopped herself from licking a paw to rub across her whiskers, one of a few instinctual Cat ticks she had to suppress while out and about with humans. She had their attention, she glanced from one face to the next and announced. “We are going to do this big fundraiser, with many folks in attendance, some of them with more disposable income than others. Why not ask what they think about everyone working together to build a permanent environmental camp structure to shelter those homeless people living in the tent city we just passed.”
“What? Huh? Environmental off-the-grid like your house? Is that even possible in the city?” Jess asked.
“No, more like the shelter the homeless man Dean built on my land meets an apartment building.”
“I remember Dean, isn’t his house mostly underground?” Amy added, her concern about not spending funds to run TV adds was implied with her tone.
“No. Not a single stand-alone house, something else bigger to house a constant ebb-and-flow of people who need shelter. An insulated transitional camp with amenities to get rid of the tents and keep everyone clean, fed, and their bodies off of the hard ground. I will get Dean to scribble up some plans and send them to the engineer he likes to work with.”
The car filled with excited questions and exclamations from the campaign team, including suggestions from the driver. A couple of phone calls and video-chat conversations quickly fleshed out the proposal for the homeless shelter during the remainder of their drive.
The fundraiser was an art auction and dinner with some raffle prizes. The auction and the raffle were online so people kept checking their phones. A couple of comedians told some jokes and then introduced the guest of honor, U.G. followed the applause of their act.
“I wish I was funny, I don’t know how they do it. Seriously, give them another round of applause. I love comedians. I think laughter is the best medicine, they should get degrees and these two should be Ph.Ds of comedy.” U.G. got polite laughter and people stood up and cheered as she walked through the crowd and stepped up to the podium.
“Ph.D. of Ha, ha!… I’ll take a Master of Comedy please, the Cat told a joke.” One comedian dryly heckled clapping for her, before leaving the stage.
“Hello everyone, thank you all for being here, and thank you to everyone participating online who couldn’t be here tonight in person.” U.G. studied the faces in the crowd like she always did, for a few seconds before speaking.
“As many of you know I am all about listening and working together to figure out the best actions to take, for the benefit of everyone in our great State of Idaho. As thousands of Idahoan idea contributors know I have a constantly updating wiki-page site of questions and issues that need answers.
Since I have your attention, so many gathered around in such a good mood, I thought I would ask you some heavy questions.
“Here we all are at a big fundraiser, one of the biggest parties ever thrown for me….” pause paw held up waving like a toddler waves goodbye/hello over the crowd. “What does everybody think of campaign finance reform?”
The crowd still warmed up from the comedians laughed.
“Yeah, it’s funny. I was reading the line items of my budget today, just now, as we drove past a homeless camp. Everybody knows what I mean? They move them, but it looks pretty bad. As I understand it, Idaho has a decently low rate of homelessness compared to some of our neighboring states. So if we are going to get creative and cost-effective and take care of everybody we need to make sure that we don’t allow more homeless people to be attracted by our programs.”
A petite woman in the back yelled. “Lock em up!”
“Shut up!” someone else yelled. “We want to listen to what U.G. has to say!”
Some people clapped.
The woman yelled back, with slightly less volume, “I am listening, she asked what everybody thinks!”
“Yes, thank you,” U.G. said. “I did ask what people think and I do need all your feedback, a lot. Please stay.”
Some people chuckled nervously. The woman was apparently a little drunk, but she did find her chair and settle back in it.
“This is what I wondered as I looked at that big number total on the page. All your money, your money, that you gave to me. And I thought, what if we could use social networking videos and a word of mouth campaign to not only get the votes for my re-election. But to form a non-profit to build a shelter together to take all those people off of our streets. I sincerely believe that we are a proud hard-working people and we are only as happy as everybody we share our towns with.”
“That’s socialism!” a man yelled from the back.
“Is it? I am pretty sure it’s philanthropy. It’s public money. Not government money. Your money and I wouldn’t do it if you wrote in and told me not to.”
“But, we gave it to you to run for government.” Another very sober tall lady near the front yelled.
“Yes. Let’s vote on this. I will listen. I will sort the data and do the math…” She smiled, “And I will do what the majority votes for me to do, with your money.”
When U.G. said, her slogan. “Sort the data and do the math.” People chanted it with her, but they all knew she didn’t repeat herself. They watched her pause and listened to her continue and when she did they cheered and laughed and clapped.
The project was a lot more complicated then she had anticipated. It took two years of planning and permits before they were even able to break ground. But, they ended up with three “camps”.
The wealthy donors were startled by the project at first. But, they could see the benefit and they liked the idea of building something that would not only help the homeless; but all the businesses within walking distance of any of the tent cities. The first one on board owned a chain of hotels. Those who had made their money in agriculture and oil were a little bit harder of a sell. But, the one billionaire in the group got into the environmental aspects of the project, his weight and funding pulled the others into orbit.
The first “camp” was built in a mostly vacant strip mall. They used the foundation, the windows, and as much of the structure that was useful. But, the finished results looked nothing like a mall. They built an adobe and strawbale oval with a flat roof with greenhouses in-between each of the individual apartments. There were two small businesses and a shipping store owned by one of the big 3 shipping companies who decided to move to a bigger building across the street. And a Mexican Food restaurant who decided to stay because they could shift from leasing the space to owning their own restaurant space in the new building.
The homes in the two-story structure were predominantly transition homes for families, little townhouses with amenities. They had a shared laundry. A daycare center and offices for social workers from the government agencies already doing the work. The social workers became the transition team, to plan other housing, to get more people off the streets, or out of doubled-up problematic crowded living and safely away from domestic abuse situations.
The non-profit used Lee’s designs for 75% of the energy required for heating and cooking, reduced refrigeration costs by 50% with a radiant-night-sky- cooling system that cycled through to a basement cold storage area, 100% of the air-conditioning was also RNSC and 100% of the lighting was direct use of solar power with battery bank walls for electronics that would with heavy use require supplemental charging from the grid, but could run for hours when the solar panels caught up on slow sunny days.
Quite early on in the project, they realized that sorting the best candidates for the family housing was not going to remove the tent cities. There was a short list of criminals, repeat offenders mixed in with the homeless. As with any American city’s homeless population in the last couple of decades, there was also mental illness, drug use and military veterans who had served earning them support from the VA. It’s not easy or sometimes even possible to move a military veteran to a home where they can receive the care they need if they do not want to go. But, with the others sorted from the camps, it was much easier to recognize them and ask them what they wanted to do.
The second camp was a rehabilitation structure. For the benefit of the addicts and the doctors and nurses sanity, they decided it would be best to build it someplace beautiful, on the hillside overlooking town, not in the middle of the noise of an urban location.
U.G. earned her reputation as being tough on crime with the third camp. Some of the last homeless to be rounded up were wanted felons and sex offenders. A list of them went to prison. Others who had already served time were moved to a criminal homeless camp with its own police station at the end of the road. They built this camp on the outskirts of town next to a landfill. Some wore ankle monitors and some agreed to tracking devices on their phones. They were not in prison, but they were not allowed to mix with the general population. Food and things they needed were brought to them via delivery, a commissary and a thrift store.
By themselves, these three neighborhoods were not enough to completely house all the homeless. But, in combination with houses built and refurbished by charity organizations across the state it was successful enough to make U.G.’s political opponents criticize her for attracting the homeless from others surrounding states, as she had feared. But, the truth is, if you have a system to work with people, figure out where they were born, where their family is or what they are running from, you can figure out where they need to go. People are people after all.
Back on the campaign trail before the shelters were built, a surprising number of U.G.’s supporters went a little crazy with the posters, stickers, t-shirts, and videos shared on small devices on the internet nearly for free instead of via TV for millions of dollars. In addition to the money saved by not doing any paid TV spots, so many T-shirts with U.G. on them sold she set a record for shirt sales for any person running for Congress, ever. Apparently, her Cat image was popular nationwide, not just in Idaho. She was really popular in California, New York, Florida and all the way to Japan for some reason. They liked the shirt design with her waving called it the ‘lucky-cat’ T-shirt.
“Millennials. U.G. you are a walking, talking cat meme.” Kyle teased, every time he saw the numbers, for the millions of T-shirts they had sold.
“Naw,” U.G. teased back with a slight smile considering how old she was, “I bet most of them were purchased by grand old baby boomers.” And she thought of all the nice cat-ladies (some of them gents, or non-binary, not ladies) centennials to Gen-X with pet cats who had befriended her on social media over the years. She knew it’s wasn’t just the millennials buying her campaign slogan.
Reader, be prepared for another leap forward in time to Un-Un-Cat, Episode 15. — How a Cat became the HUMAN candidate.
