Al Steiner: Greenies

She paused again, allowing what she assumed was another planetwide cheer to die down. She then turned her face serious.

"This brings us to a subject that seems unrelated but that really is not. It is the subject of welfare reform. For dozens of generations we have had a system in place in which the needy, the jobless, the infirm among us have been supported by the government so that they may continue to be housed and fed. This is a system that many of you who fought in the revolution, who toiled in the factories to supply the revolution, lived under when WestHem rule was in place. It is a system in which the government paid you a certain amount of money each month for expenses. It was a system that was necessary when we had better than twenty-five percent unemployment on this planet. But it is a system that was and is rife for abuse by many of those who partake in it. It is time for that system to change and it is with the influx of these luxury items that we must act to avoid further abuses. It is time for what our ancestors used to call 'tough love'."

"We have reached a point now in Martian history where there are many more jobs available than there are workers to fill them. Our war efforts have opened up positions in every conceivable field. We need police officers, dip-hoes, factory workers, agricultural workers, janitors, soldiers, miners. We need people to work in order to make this new reality we are forging continue on. In short, there is no reason why everyone who is capable of working should not be working. 'I can't get a job' was a very legitimate excuse under WestHem. It is not a legitimate excuse today. What I'm about to suggest may sound harsh to those accustomed to the WestHem way of doing things, but it is a necessity for our new system. From this point on if you do not work, you will not get any money."

From all over the planet people gasped as they heard this. Some in surprise, many in approval, some, like Belinda Creek, in surprised shock.

"Now I'm not talking about cutting everyone off from government assistance," Whiting continued. "I wouldn't dream of such a thing. It is my belief that just by virtue of being born you are entitled to certain basic needs of life. If you are capable of working but choose not to, that is your right as a citizen of Mars. The government will continue to provide you with basic food items, with basic shelter in public housing buildings, with basic clothing, with an education in public schools, with basic Internet access and a personal computer. But that is all we will provide you with and from here on out these things will be provided for you by vouchers. Those on public assistance will no longer receive any money of any kind from the government of Mars.

"Now as to how that relates to these luxuries we have just negotiated for our planet, you will have to have money in order to obtain them from a store. There will be no vouchers for cigarettes, for coffee, for alcohol, or for marijuana. If you want some of those things, or if you want premium cuts of beef, or if you want food from a restaurant, you will have to have money — namely credits, which I've named in that they represent a credit you have received for some sort of contribution to society. Those who contribute will be given credits. Those who do not will be fed, housed, and clothed in basic format and will have no credits for luxuries.

"For those of you sitting in your homes accustomed to receiving your monthly marijuana and alcohol vouchers and your one hundred credits of spending money, those days are at an end as of now. We're not doing this because we hate you. We're doing it to encourage you to get up and make something of yourselves.

"That is all I have to say. Good night. Let's keep Mars free."

Belinda Creek was shocked beyond belief. She had watched the Whiting bitch's speech with initial glee as she talked about all the wonderful and cheap booze that would soon be pouring in from EastHem. True there had been no mention of Fruity — her favorite — but surely the EastHems had some sort of similar concoction for their own vermin. Her elation had turned to horror, however, as Whiting had explained the welfare reform. No money of any kind? Vouchers for food, housing, and clothing? What kind of shit was that? That wasn't fair! There was no way the people of Mars would stand for that, was there?

She went to bed that night convinced that the press would crucify Whiting the next morning, that popular outrage would quickly overturn this fascist edict. In this she was partially right. There were many questions about her unexpected welfare reform law the next morning, most having to do with what those who were unable to work because of disability would do. As the days went on and Whiting explained that her reform only applied to those who were able to work but chose not to, much of the questions faded away. In fact, it was determined that the majority of the planet, including those who had grown up as vermin but were now working, approved of Whiting's reform. Some of them were even of the opinion that she was being too generous.

Jack Strough and his growing number of followers were one such group. Strough was all in favor of denying credits or dollars or pounds (whatever they ultimately ended up going with) to those on welfare but he was opposed to the idea of giving them even basic vouchers.

"Why should we house them if they refuse to work?" Strough asked a group of reporters interviewing him on the subject. "Why should our hardworking field hands have to feed them if they refuse to work? Why should we give them free clothing and free education if they refuse to work? Working is what keeps the economy rolling. Everyone capable of it should contribute to the cause. If you choose not to, I say you can go naked and homeless and starve in the street."

After a week of excited talk about the welfare reform rules it was apparent to Belinda and everyone like her that public opinion was not in their favor. If anything they stood to lose the meager handouts Whiting was offering them.

"This is a bunch of fuckin' bullshit," Belinda told the computer screen one night after smoking the last of her marijuana supply. She had just received the first of her monthly vouchers via email and, as promised, there was no credits or dollars listed in them.

She longed for the way things used to be, when the booze was free, the asshole that lived with her was fucking her on a regular basis, and no one expected her to go out and find a fucking job.

The fervor over the welfare reform act died down quickly the last week of December when the subject of "the vote" was raised for the first time. It was Jack Strough who raised it and once it was brought to the public's attention it would only be called "the vote" when discussed.

"It's obvious that myself and Governor Whiting have very differing views on the direction this planet should take in the post-revolutionary phase," Strough announced at a press conference. "I represent an organization that a good portion of our blue collar workers now belong to — the Martian Federation of Labor — and I speak to you now as their voice. We have achieved what Ms. Whiting set out to do. We have beaten the WestHem marines and chased them from our planet. Now it is time for us to reconcile with them in the interest of all Martians.

"Governor Whiting's idealistic plans of an isolated planet, independent from the economies of EastHem and WestHem sound good after smoking a few bowls and bullshitting with your buddies over artichokes and cheesecake, but they hardly hold water in the real world. We cannot exist without WestHem. They are our mother country and they are the ones who must purchase the majority of what we produce here. We must establish diplomacy with them, negotiate a permanent armistice, exchange our prisoners, and, most of all, trade with them in the great tradition of democratic capitalism. It is a nice pipe dream that we can be fully independent but it can't happen in real life. It simply can't!