I’ve spent years writing about the intersection of technology, culture, and policy. When concepts like megawatt and megabyte are reshaping the very places we live, I’m finding that work increasingly relevant.
It is one thing to write an essay here or a newsletter there. Given the potential harms, utilizing adding additional forms, like narrative, seems warranted. The Biggest Little Bill is part tech satire, part civic noir. It’s a reminder that accountability doesn’t just live in boardrooms or algorithms; like all things, it starts with people.
I hope you enjoy this one, and maybe see a bit of your own fight in it.
This is the second scene. If you missed the first, you can begin at the beginning.
~Matthew
Scene 2 - The Ballpark
“And then what happened?”
“And then,” Bill said, knocking the dust off the base before putting it in the metal box outside the dugout, “she starts gaslighting me on the county’s methodology on the way out the door. ‘Outdated’ and ‘Not fit for purpose’ she says.”
Dominic laughed and shook his head, ruefully. He leaned against the chain link backstop. “Anyway,” Bill continued, “thanks for covering. I didn’t think it would take that long but between the wait and getting over here it took a lot longer than I thought. Probably for the best - meant I had a chance to cool down.”
“No problem, happy to get practice started” Dominic said. The other parents had already picked up their players and headed for home, but the coaches’ kids - their kids - continued throwing pop-ups to each out in center field. It didn’t seem that long ago that Bill done that exact thing, on this exact field.
Dominic broke his brief revelry. “Aye yai yai. So what’s next?”
“Next?” Bill closed the lid on the equipment storage and put the padlock on, “I’m not sure what you mean. I put together the report, I gave it to Osirtek. I’d think it was on them now.”
Dominic drawled out a “Yeahhhhhh,” slow and questioning. “I’m sure they’ll get right on it.”
Bill chuckled, shook his head, and bent down to gather bats and catcher’s gear.
“Bill, have you looked at your power bill the last few months?”
“Power?” Bill looked up, “No, Stace does the utilities. Why?”
Dominic crossed his arms. “Ours has gone up every month since the beginning of the year. And not by a little - by a lot.”
“It’s been a hot summer.”
“Bill, we’ve known each other since middle school. I’ve lived here for at least as long as you. I know summers are hot. This is something different.”
Dominic sat down on the bench which doubled as a dugout at the city park. He leaned in, elbows on knees. “I went back and looked, at least the last few years, man. Something’s off. Way off. And nobody is talking about it.”
Bill could feel his jaw clenching again.
“Our water’s been fine, same as yours,” Dominic continued, “but my cousin lives over on that side of town, near Osirtek. I don’t know if they share a main or what, but they’ve had to start buying water, at least the stuff they drink. They don’t have the money for that! And they can’t do laundry or dishes in the afternoon; there’s no pressure.”
“And you think it’s the data center’s fault? Higher power, no water, cats and dog sleeping together, the whole bit?”
Dominic blew a raspberry and rocked back, looking back out to center field. “Listen, man, that place isn’t right. It’s making things worse, not better.”
“Dom, I’m not sure what you expect me to do.”
“You figure things out, remember? Like in high school, our senior year - homecoming? What was that guy’s name?”
“Jeremy Devlin.”
“JEREMY! That’s right.” Dominic whistled to get the girls attention, and waved his daughter in, “Guy was trying to steal the homecoming king election, and you caught him red handed. You noticed something that even slipped by the teachers. You pick up on things.
“And that place is miles long, like the size of a secret villain lair. And you’re telling me there’s nothing to see?”
Dominic shouldered his daughter’s softball bag.
“Anyway, we gotta go - it’s nugget night. Tell Stacey I said hi, and take another look!” Bill waved goodbye, picked up the softball gear, and turned back to the outfield. Beyond the fence, the automated sprinklers hissed loudly, before settling into their evening water.
End Scene 2 - Check back tomorrow for the next installment of Biggest Little Bill.
