Not me That’s not fair Represent we Blank stare

Excluded again Thinking free Never to win Sing without glee

What will it take To be included Not wide awake Always excluded Tessa🦋

Well, earth was in for it now. After centuries of squabbling the people of earth had finally made contact with an alien species. Unfortunately they were not of peaceful kind. To be honest, with the humanity’s tendency to enslave newly discovered peoples of a lesser technological ability it should not have been all that surprising. But fortunately earth’s scientists had come up with a way to pick out the right leader to lead us in the most correct fashion forward possible. They developed a device that did not choose the smartest or the strongest or the wisest among us. No we needed to ensure one thing for the species; and that was to survive. And after extensive testing, they finally found me. Little old me living in the outback of Australia, using nothing but my wits in my life.

Well, how about that? God works in mysterious blah blah ad nauseum. Due to a loophole the size of Texas, the democratic process has collapsed under the intense pressure from male punters ~ and now, only female strippers are eligible to run for office!

Which puts me front and centre! As candidate for…um…well, I don’t know. Something. I don’t really care, actually, as long as it includes the cessation of dirty bills being shoved into my g~string. Though, now that I think about it, I’m running for office, for Christ’s sake; let’s be realistic. That shit won’t be ending any time soon; the bills will just be getting a whole lot more valuable.

Oh, and I prolly won’t have to show my tits as often.

I’m not a stickler, though. I’m patriotic as fuck; I’ll show these tits, for Canada, baby. For CANADA.

Or gas money. Holy FUCK. I’d better fix that, first thing in office. Someone remind me. Hey! That reminds me. Do I get an assistant? What? Not, not you. A male one. And hot. I said not you! Beat it, sweetheart; I don’t care how organized you are. If you don’t have a penis, you’re not organized enough. Get lost.

God, it’s hard being President of Canada (is that it’s called…?), with all these minions to shit on. Someone get me a fucking latté. You, sweetheart! Before you go…

I see another person running down the street as the rain comes crashing down. It wouldn’t be long before I saw 12 police men chasing her, hearing their radios go into static as they reach the dead zone of my town. It’s so cold tonight, the thought of going inside has crossed my mind. The fierce slap of the chilly night air along with the water droplets pelting my skin has given me an excuse to want to go inside for once in my life. But the beauty of the trees wrestling the air, and the sound of the soothing rainfall along with the exciting roar of the thunder had changed my mind. Sitting out in the cold was better than going into the chaos of my home. At least I have a comfortable outfit on. I wonder why nobody focuses on the small towns full of crime and hate? Maybe people thing that we aren’t worth saving, we’re so small it wouldn’t really make any difference, right. I’m going to change that one day I thought to myself as I got interrupted. My reality then set in. My best friend David came to sit by me on my porch which was thankfully covered from the rain. He looked cold, it could be because I had his sweater. He gave it to me last week at school. He carried a plaid blanket with him though, “Hey beautiful” he said to me in a low voice, “ your brother called me, he sounded worried about you.” He paused as he gave me a concerned look, “ what happened love?” “nothing worse than what’s already happened in my life” I replied back with irritation in my voice. David has been my best friend since the 1st grade and has been there for me through everything. My parents divorce because of my dad's abusive behavior, and my family falling apart after that. Well what structure we did have I mean, it was close to none to begin with. David was staring at me with a soft expression wanting me to vent to him. I decided to help myself and share my past hour, “my mom yelled at my little brother for eating my portion of dinner, and when I defended him she freaked out on me. It’s ok though, he needed the food more anyways” I said without looking at him. My family lives paycheck to paycheck, and sometimes We don’t always have food. David hates it when I don’t eat, he will bring me and my family food sometimes or take me out to dinner on school nights after we do homework at his place. He lives in the next town over in a fancy house with nice parents and a good family. He immediately got to his feet and offered me his hand. Without speaking I stood up from my sitting position and knew that I was leaving my house for the night ————————Time skip————————— After sleeping in David’s room on his bed while he took the floor, I had breakfast with his family. His family loves me and has said I am welcome any time and that has so far proved to be true. His mom had turned on the news after finding the cops caught the girl I saw last night, after she robbed a store. The scene skipped to the president being escorted to a cop car in handcuffs. The Vice President had quit his job earlier this week due to drama with a coworker and had filed for a divorce after finding her man with another man shockingly. The senate then came on the screen and stated that American was falling to pieces and that in-light of our president going to prison the office was now open to anyone as long as they were or have been, at least a senior in high school. David looked over at me to meet my amused gaze. We jokingly dialed the number to run for president thinking nothing of it, the lady on the other end of our phone took our names and did a small background check on us, after confirming who we were and our grades she put our name in a drawing. We as a county we’re planning on a lottery to pick our president! If I get picked I’m focusing on small towns, then working my way to the whole state, to better America one state at a time. And to make sure people know what’s right!

“Breaking News coming in just now. This announcement was made by the United States president during the annual United Nations conference. ‘I propose today that we let regular ordinary civilians become the next steps in leading the world. The world should learn by the voice of an average civilian in the population. They will determine the future this world shall go.’ That was President Rickston with the latest report. And now back to Cheryl with the latest…”

I turned off the television, my mind still attempting to process what my ears had just heard from the television broadcast. The president was going to allow a regular citizen to rule the world? That’s blasphemy! They’ll lead the world to chaos!

I heard a knock at the front door, so I got up from my seat and opened it. A mailman was standing outside with a massive box, about as tall as he was.

He said to me, “Hello, sir. Are you Harry Hillard?”

“Yes.”

“This package was sent to you from the White House. It’s allegedly something extremely important, so please handle this with caution. Thank you.”

With that, the mailman went back to his truck and drove off down the street. Baffled, I dragged the heavy package inside my house and laid it down in the living room, thankfully there was enough space.

I then got a knife from my kitchen and used it to cut open the huge package. When I opened it, the golden sunlight reflected into my open eyes, I immediately shielded my eyes from the light.

When I closed my windows, I took another look at the content. I found out it was a massive gold trophy of the White House. Under it, it stated “Congratulations, you’ve just been awarded the honor of becoming the next president! A limo shall arrive in 24 hours to pick you up and take you to the White House. Welcome to the office, new president!”

About one hundred and fifty years ago the government realised the role of sovereign nations was redundant. So began the great world war, the war to end all wars. And at the end the great unification. At first the world had a president, the great Robin Mallory, the man who had united the world under one rule.

But Mallory, the visionary that he was, recognised the limitations of a world governed by one man. Even he had weaknesses, blind spots, biases and eventually one of them would jeopardise his ability to make the right decision at a critical time.

So he started building W.OL.I - the worldwide organisation leadership initiative. It was a database of every individual in the world that could afford to run the necessary tests to be included. It involved extensive personality and intelligence tests, logs of skills, political leanings and everything else you could possibly imagine. Only twenty percent of the world was on the database, but it was growing over time. Anyone within WOLI was eligible for shortlisting for any government role. President included.

Different roles within the centralised government had different parameters. Some would last for a year or more and involve strategic or tactical objectives specific to the individual qualified. Others, such as president, were extremely transactional, once you completed the task necessary you were replaced by the next president, sometimes after only days or weeks. This transactional nature of the role, generated by a central AI in WOLI which was being fed every other decision made in the government across the globe, meant that in theory the president was always the ‘right man for the job’. Whatever that job ended up being.

And that’s how one day I opened up my email and found I’d been shortlisted for the next role as president. My potential tenure would be short, specifically a mechanical disparity across the different pjs masses of the world meant that repairs and parts were not being balanced properly and parts were having to be shipped across continents in a way that was sub optimal. It was the incoming presidents job to resolve this. As a mechanical technician class 4-B I was qualified for this role, as would thousands of others be.

A lot of people would jump at the opportunity, the fame, the publicity. Not me, I shuddered at the idea. A low panic rose in my gut, I needed to find a way to get out of this.

“You should run for president! Your so wise! If anyone could bring world peace it would be you!” I stared over my cup of jasmine tea, at my sister that sat across from me, her ecstatic face lit by the television. I shook my head rather violently. “Oh no, I would have funded three rebellions against me in the first hour and by the end of the day I would have accidentally started a nuclear holocaust.” “No, you wouldn’t!” I narrowed my eyes and sipped my tea. “You know how much I like to hit the big red button.” She thought about all the times I got us into trouble after repeatedly being told to NOT do something. She nodded. “Okay maybe you shouldn’t be allowed in a nuclear store room...”

The year is 18,5XX AE, humanity has moved beyond the petty squalor of political debate and has transcended into the true art of quantum duck lottery’s. The rules are simple, every person who wishes to have a leading role selects a duck from a specific longitude, latitude, altitude, date, time, timeline, and ultra postion. If your duck is the first chosen by the society leading quantim A.I. that makes up Mars’ 4th moon, known as Hamtam, you control all major political decisions for the human race.

“YOU ARE NOW ELIGIBLE TO RUN FOR PRESIDENT OF THE WORLD!”

My eyebrows go up as I ponder the headline in the morning paper.

“Nah,” I respond, then turn the page.

At the first stage BgBRo did the first analysis, searching all forms of social media as well as every private data base that was hooked to the Earthnet. That meant everyone on this slowly spinning, slowly dying, slowly hoping planet was analyzed. BgBRo’s speed had accelerated over the years, so that on the first Monday in the second Month at the third hour GMT, within four minutes, the ten selections were made. They were based only on the best candidates who had not been involved in any negative activities whether that be in writing or pictures shared or comments from others. Wherever the selected were at the time of the selection, at work or even in bed, a live-cam projected their images on every screen on the whole planet. Those who had turned off their cell phones or TVs, were awakened as their devices were automatically turned on. I myself was in a deep sleep since I was nine hours behind the 3 GMT. My cell phone rumbled and its glare filled my bedroom with midday light. I pulled the covers tight over my face as the names of those selected as a candidate for WP (World President) were read by BgBRo, whose voice was neither male nor female yet pleasant, non-binary, perfectly not gendered, friendly voice. I knew the broadcast would last a little more than five minutes and they always started with number ten ranking first and moved up from there. As they neared number three, my eyelids became heavy again until I heard number one from the list: Norman Tanner. I sat straight up in bed, that’s me! I grabbed my phone from the nightstand and saw myself, unshaven, bare chested, with dark circles under my eyes. I took a deep breath as my image faded from the screen. Of course it didn’t mean that I was president yet, but it meant I had to report to the local authorities for the final test and that meant as soon as it was morning on the second day of the second month at nine in the morning local time. I had worked so hard trying to avoid any use of social media. My cell phone was only there for work and my friends made fun of me since I only visited them in person or left a slip of paper on their desk or slipped it under their doors at their homes. They called me Not-Normal-Norman. I accepted it like a noble title. I had tried so hard. I didn’t have a television to watch so they couldn’t analyze and categorize what I streamed. Every thing I did, I tried to do without a keyboard or touch screen. It was not easy and not always possible. I gulped hard and got up realizing that there was no way for me to sleep. The car would show up for me, they would take me, and then they would install a chip in my head to attach the long wires that would feed my thoughts directly into BgBRo. I jumped into the shower shivering and didn’t stop until the steaming stream warmed me from outside to in. I put on my clothes, ate toast while I drank a coffee, and waited at the door. They came, they knocked and I opened the door. It was two standard LiLBgBRos with their face recognition faces analyzing mine. “Norman Tanner, accompany us please.” Again voices pleasant, non-gendered and happy to serve. When I arrived, I was greeted by a rusty headed woman with rosy cheeks to match. Her blouse with a mixed print of irises and lilacs seemed very out of place on a mid-winter morning. Even though she was of real flesh and blood just like me, she mimicked those voices of all the kinds of BgBRos, friendly and ready to be of service. She glowed with a white neon halo from all the screens behind her, “Oh, how exciting! You’re the first person chosen from our district ever!” She danced light.y around the lab. The two bots who had accompanied me brought me forward to a chair and I could see the chipping device lying next to the one packaged alcohol swab. She picked it and continued to chat, “Why did you know, from all your public data your slate was judged 99% clean! There was just one phone call when you were seventeen when you used…well you know…one of those words that’s not so pure.” So, they even had all the calls I had ever made in my life, a teenager calling a friend, who knows what I said. There was a swipe at the back of my head and then a slight sting. “Now we’re ready. The last check just to see what an upstanding person you are. You might be the President of the World tomorrow!” She was much more excited than I. I felt the wire go in, and then I had to smile as I saw the look of surprise on her face. My thoughts rolled out on the screens in that lab. Everything I had pondered, considered and would have like to have done if I had lived in a different time. My hands un-balled. I relaxed into the chair and let all those stories roll out. A smutty, dirty, untidy deluge. I knew I wouldn’t be World President on the third day of the second month at 4 pm GMT.