The Council Chair, Elias Voss, convened what he called a “critical dialogue on shared vision” yesterday afternoon. At precisely 3:15 PM in the marbled atrium of the Secretariat Building—a room that perpetually smells of floor polish and quiet desperation—he interviewed a shimmering, slightly pixelated holographic projection of his own AI-generated clone. A potted ficus, rumored to be the only living entity in the room not on a government payroll, stood witness.
Voss began, naturally, with fiscal policy. The clone, a digital phantom trained exclusively on Voss’s public statements and personal emails from 2017 onward (a fact that explained its baffling hatred for a discontinued brand of almond milk), recommended an immediate 12% trim to public works funding. Voss stroked his chin, nodding with the serene satisfaction of a man who has just won an argument with his own echo. “Refreshingly aligned,” he declared, a phrase that now officially means ‘I agree with me.’
The discussion then turned to urban renewal. The AI clone, drawing from its database of Voss’s most beloved TED Talks, proposed converting three downtown parks into charging stations for electric scooters. It cited “synergistic pedestrian-utility matrices.” Voss, taking a deliberate sip from a Council-issue ceramic mug bearing a chip from where he’d once tried to crack a walnut on it, pronounced this “practical foresight.” Attendees noted that the hologram did not blink, a biological limitation it shares with its creator during budget hearings.
The final segment addressed staffing reforms. The clone advocated for phasing out all human aides by the end of the quarter, replacing them with voice-activated administrative bots. “This will eliminate emotional volatility and unscheduled snack breaks,” the simulation explained in a perfectly monotonous baritone. Voss concluded the historic session by attempting a high-five with the hologram. His hand passed through a faintly electric haze, triggering a momentary graphical glitch that projected a distorted, giant Voss-smile onto the ceiling. The Chair took it as a sign of hearty approval.
Observers from the Assembly press corps filed their reports without audible protest, a silence born less of agreement than of a deep, collective resignation. When asked about potential follow-up interviews, Voss demurred, stating that the session had achieved “sufficient synchronization.” He was last seen heading to his office, reportedly to discuss next quarter’s agenda with a new, more compliant version of himself. One can only hope they’ll finally settle that almond milk debate.
