this is one of the funniest things i've ever read and i completely forget who wrote it
i feel like it might've been pixelatedboat
Holy fuck, that is amazing. I literally couldn't tell if it was real or not until uthe end, which probably says a lot about US politics
@CornishRepublicanArmy honestly after trump won it kinda broke my brain and i don't even think if this happened it would surprise me anymore
Listen, read that thing back but swap Hillary for Bush, and it alreqdy fits LOOONG before Trump
The night before the Oklahoma rally I met with my campaign manager,
Robby Mook. Robby was in charge of the campaign computers, but he
was so smart that in many ways he was like a computer. He had bad
news. "Oklahomans see you as an aloof New York intellectual,” he ex-
plained. “They'll never vote for someone like that. You need an image
they can understand and respect."
"What if I ate a big hunk of beef on stage?” I helpfully suggested. "We
need to think bigger," said Robby. "I've consulted the Algorithm. It told
me that Oklahoma voters love cowboys." I liked where this was going.
"It also told me that what they hate most is ... cattle rustlers."
"Robby, you're a genius," I said. We spent that night crafting my new
persona, a persona we believed would win me the election. The next day,
I sauntered onto an Oklahoma stage wearing a full cowboy outfit, firing
a pair of six shooters in the air. "Howdy," I said to the crowd, "I'm Sher-
iff Hillary." I received the biggest applause of my whole career.
"Tf there's one thing I hate," I announced, "it's varmints. And the worst
varmints of all are cattle rustlers. Make me your president and I'll put a
bullet between the eyes of every rustler in this state." For emphasis, I bit
a chunk out of a hunk of beef.
The crowd roared. They loved it. A chant started: "Death to rustlers!
Death to rustlers!" Then a scuffle broke out in the front row. Three men
dressed in denim tackled and hogtied a small, weasely-looking fellow.
They dragged him up on stage.
"Ms. Clinton," one man said, "this fella here is a rustler. He stole three
of my prize cows last spring. If you kill him right now, everyone in this
room will vote for you. The crowd began a new chant: "Blood! Blood!
The bound man pleaded with me. "Yes, I stole those cows,” he said,
"but I only did it because my family was starving. Please, spare me. Pll —
never rustle again.” My life and career have been defined by hard choices.
‘This was perhaps the hardest choice of all. My phone buzzed. A text from —
Robby. It read, "Ihe Algorithm says: the rustler dies." "I'm sorry," I told
the man as I raised a pistol. "It's not me. It's the Algorithm.”
I squeezed the trigger.
@kew it got the page number too, classic
Sunbeam City is a Libertarian Socialist solarpunk instance. It is ran democratically by a cooperative of like-minded individuals.