Detroit Candidate Promises to Make the City Insane Again

By Lura Kemp, Staff Reporter, Detroit Interplanetary GazetteStardate 98934.6 — Downtown Detroit, North American Continent, Earth

In a city where the weather is always 72 degrees, public transportation runs on time, and even the pigeons have universal healthcare, one man is boldly going where no candidate has gone before: backwards.

Former cargo transporter foreman Rex “Icepick” Mallory has announced his candidacy for District Prefect of Detroit, running on a campaign slogan that has startled voters and delighted late-night comedians across the Alpha Quadrant: “Make Detroit Dangerous Again.”

Standing in front of a holographic mural depicting Detroit’s fabled 21st-century skyline—complete with crumbling factories and suspiciously orange smoky air—Mallory told a crowd of puzzled journalists that “modern Detroit has gone soft.”

“Look around,” he said, gesturing at a group of children happily playing in a park where the grass self-trims and crime is statistically extinct. “No one’s struggling! No one’s scared! Kids today don’t even know how to hot-wire a hovercar just to get home from school! How can we call ourselves Detroiters if we’ve never had to sprint from an angry snowplow in minus thirty degrees?” Indicating the security drones hovering above, he said "The safety... it's suffocating!"

Mallory, 58, a self-described “Old School Enthusiast,” fondly recalls a grittier Motor City he missed by almost 200 years, as historians note that the last recorded violent crime in Detroit occurred in 2134 when a malfunctioning food replicator attempted to assault a customer with an undercooked pierogi.

“Back then,” Mallory said, pounding his fist on the podium, “we had character! We had frostbite! We had the constant, character-building threat of being shot over your shoelace color! That’s how we knew who our real friends were!”

Asked by reporters what exactly he planned to do if elected, Mallory laid out a five-point platform he describes as "freeform jazz legislating" that has experts scratching their heads and emergency services on standby:

A man with a (bad) plan.

1. Reintroduce Winter. “Detroit’s been at a balmy 72 degrees since the planetary climate control network came online. That’s unnatural! I’ll bring back real winters: ice, snow, wind that peels your face like a replicator banana. If you can’t feel your fingers, you’re alive! But probably not for long.”

2. Ban Personal Shields. “People should earn their survival. Shields make us lazy. You should be able to dodge a phaser blast the old-fashioned way: by running and praying... Maybe we bring back shotguns. They seemed fun.”

3. Abolish Free Energy. “Nothing builds moral fiber like wondering if your lights will come back on before the Tigers game. And maybe we get a few free-range tigers.”

4. Subsidize Grit. “Every citizen gets a voucher for one minor hardship per year instigated by city robots: a power outage, a pothole, maybe a raccoon infestation. Keeps the spirit alive.”

5. Bring Back Shoelaces. “Those self-tying boots are ruining the culture. I want every child in Detroit to know the pain of double knots and the terror of picking the wrong color on the wrong block. I will personally be walking around taking pot shots at anyone wearing the wrong color-of-the-day, which will be secret to everyone but me.”

   
   

Public response to Mallory’s campaign has been mixed. One local teacher, Amaya Cortez, told the Gazette, “I teach third graders. Last week, they were learning quantum calculus while floating in zero-gravity art class. I’m not sure they’re emotionally ready for raccoon infestations, though I wouldn't object to a couple of these bastards taking a bit of lead."

Still, Mallory has found a devoted following among Detroit’s small but passionate Retro Hardship Society, a group of citizens dedicated to reintroducing mild discomforts into their daily lives. Their weekly meetings include activities such as waiting in lines, drinking coffee that isn’t perfectly temperature-optimized, and arguing about who had it worse in 2020.

More controversially, Mallory polls extremely well with roughly 30% of Detroiters who want to “freeze out the Klingons, Vulcans, and other unsavory off-worlders” with an arctic blast that could literally kill the Vulcans. This is a voting bloc that political analysts describe as “loud, nostalgic, and perpetually wearing vintage wool.” Though the United Federation of Planets has long since outlawed species-based discrimination, Mallory’s supporters insist their candidate “just wants to bring back good, honest xenophobia—the kind your granddad used to complain about over a mug of antifreeze coffee.” Mallory's omnipresent bright orange knit wool beanies have them sweating into their brows across the city.

Political observers note that his rhetoric has led to several awkward moments on the campaign trail, including a televised debate where he accused a Vulcan moderator of “smugly controlling the weather with logic.” And another when he challenged a Klingon street vendor to a thumb wrestling match for a free hotdog, accusing the Klingon Detroiter of "disloyalty" when the Klingon observed he didn't want a free hotdog as he had a cart full of them.

“Detroit’s had 150 years of peace, prosperity, and championship-winning sports teams... well peace and prosperity anyway.” said Dr. T’Lana Vos, professor of Terran Political Psychology at Starfleet Academy. “Normally, there’s limited appetite for being cold, broke, and afraid of shoelaces, but somehow he has convinced some Detroiters.”

Mallory, undeterred, insists he’s the only candidate with “the courage to bring back misery.”

“We’ve eliminated hunger, crime, and despair,” he said, staring wistfully at the skyline of solar-paneled skyscrapers. “It's a shame. Where's the thrill of possibly being mugged by someone named Big Tony? Of losing a finger? Ya know, the things that make life worth living? I’m gonna give Detroit back its edge—and maybe make those hipster Klingons think twice before opening another artisanal bloodwine bar downtown.”

As of press time, Mallory’s campaign holographic posters have been flagged by city sensors as “potential mental health alerts,” automatically dispatching comfort drones to anyone who stares at them too long.

Nevertheless, the polls show him holding a solid 30% of the vote, mostly among people who planned to move out of Detroit anyway and were eager for those left behind to "suck it".