Daniel L 
In a bold experiment to redefine urban planning, several Democratic-run cities across the nation recently embraced a peculiar theory championed by local pothead philosophers: that defecating in nature would unleash a mystical force to revitalize their metropolises. Promising greener parks, booming economies, and a “return to Mother Earth,” city officials from San Francisco to Seattle rolled out the “Squat for Growth” initiative, encouraging residents to, ahem, fertilize public spaces.
“It was a grassroots movement—literally,” said Mayor Bud Greenleaf of Portland, wiping his brow during a press conference held in a suspiciously odorous city park. “Our local think tank, the Joint Council for Urban Renewal, convinced us that human compost could unlock nature’s potential to rebuild our cities. They had charts. And bongs.”
The theory, born in a haze of late-night dispensary debates, posited that by “returning nutrients to the earth,” cities could harness a primal energy to attract businesses, reduce crime, and even fix potholes. “It’s like Feng Shui, but with more… squatting,” explained self-proclaimed urban shaman and theory architect, Stash Moonbeam. “The earth vibes with our offerings, man.”
The Great Experiment
Armed with this wisdom, cities like Chicago, Oakland, and Minneapolis designated “Free Soil Zones” in parks, vacant lots, and even downtown sidewalks. Residents were issued biodegradable “squat kits” and encouraged to “contribute to the cycle of life.” Public service announcements featured slogans like “Drop It for Democracy!” and “Poop for Prosperity!” San Francisco went as far as installing artisanal compost bins shaped like lotus flowers, funded by a $12 million grant from a now-defunct green initiative.
For a brief moment, the plan seemed to take root. Social media buzzed with #SquatForGrowth selfies, and local influencers dubbed it “the ultimate act of civic pride.” But the euphoria was short-lived. By month three, the promised economic boom hadn’t materialized. Instead, cities faced a stench of regret—and something far worse.
The Backlash
“It’s a literal shitshow,” fumed Angela Carter, a former barista turned urban nomad, as she navigated a minefield of “contributions” in Seattle’s Pioneer Square. “I thought this was about sustainability, not turning our parks into open-air latrines.”
Major corporations, once lured by tax breaks, began fleeing faster than a tourist stepping in a Free Soil Zone. Tech giant MacroHard announced it was relocating its headquarters from Seattle to Singapore, citing “unhygienic working conditions.” Retail chains followed suit, with one CEO bluntly stating, “We’re not coming back until the city is leveled and every soiled patch is scorched earth.”
Public health officials raised alarms as E. coli levels spiked in city water supplies, and the CDC issued a rare “Fecal Overload Advisory.” Urban wildlife, initially thrilled by the nutrient influx, began mutating in unsettling ways—rumors of hyper-aggressive squirrels still haunt Minneapolis residents.
The Fallout
By late 2024, the “Squat for Growth” initiative was officially scrapped. Cities scrambled to clean up, but the damage was done. Downtown areas, once bustling, now resembled abandoned archaeological sites, with hazmat teams excavating what one official called “a geological layer of regret.” The Joint Council for Urban Renewal quietly disbanded after Stash Moonbeam was spotted fleeing to a yurt in rural Oregon, muttering about “bad vibes.”
Mayor Greenleaf, facing a recall election, defended the experiment. “We took a bold risk for innovation. Sure, it didn’t work, but at least we proved the theory was… well, crap.”
Looking Ahead
As cities grapple with the aftermath, experts warn it could take decades—and billions in federal aid—to restore urban centers to their pre-squat glory. Meanwhile, a new theory is gaining traction among the same pothead philosophers: that chanting at skyscrapers can attract alien investors. City councils, still reeling, have yet to comment.
For now, residents are left with a lingering question: If shitting in nature couldn’t save their cities, what will?
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