Thanks to Brian's shrewd zoo outreach program, we've pretty well locked in the prairie dog vote. This is good news, of course, because these tunnel-digging wonders number in the millions nationwide. And wild and domesticated animals, so long as they spend at least 51% of the year on American soil (or air space, for migratory birds), will be allowed to vote by 2032. In the coming few years, you can expect numerous congressional arguments to focus on whether non-human species, since they share this same earth, shouldn't have an equal say in its management. Wild animals will be an easier sell as they live independently and generally try to eat as few people as possible. Domesticated species, however, will add a compelling dynamic to the electorate.
Take cows, for instance. Many agronomists predict that cattle, though they seem prone to a herd mentality, will actually prove a rebellious lot if politically empowered. Your average cow, be it range-fed or stock-raised, will no doubt favor further opening the foreign beef market, very much angering their rancher owners who insist that American beef should be all that Americans grill. Every Argentine cow shipped into this country, after all, is an American cow possibly not eaten. Inflexible, single-issue politics will dominate, for you'd better believe that cows will not agree, flat-hoofed, to having themselves slaughtered and sliced into steaks and hamburgers. What we could be facing is rank mutiny on vast ranches across the world. Better that we should strategize now to prevent this sort of anarchy. So livestock, I'm speaking to you now: join Team Wirsing, and we promise to be less dependent on you for protein and deliciousness.
This meaty sacrifice, of course, could anger another developing constituent - plants. Our campaign experts estimate that our leafy, oxygen-generating neighbors ought to join the electorate by 2040, a mere eight years behind. Their claim, long made but seldom heeded, will be that they produce what we breathe. When we nearly run out of air in 2034, gleeful giggles and taunts from garden produce will compel us to re-think our values. Damn those loud-mouthed, mocking tomatoes. Damn them!
Imagine these uncountable billions of as yet unswayed voters. Now imagine them all in our camp. Beat Wirsing? Beware our thunderous stampede of support, is more like it. You might caution us that we shouldn't count our chickens before they hatch. To that I say, "But hah, in the Wirld of tomorrow, those chickens will be counted, as will their votes!" At this point you should be speechless.
This weekend, Team Wirsing is taking a campaign trip deep into the mountain wilderness of Vermont to woo the flora and fauna of this fine New England state. All we have is a (borrowed) tent and a (stolen) cooler, but we expect to come back with an entire forest of support ... for the first time, literally.
Here's to hoping that Katie's toast doesn't prove too prophetic just yet.