Location
Mount Vernon, WA 98274
Location
Mount Vernon, WA 98274

In a move that has residents rubbing their eyes in disbelief, Blinkton's city council passed an ordinance requiring every citizen to obtain a blinking permit and log eyelid movements in a government database. From underground eyelid-weight black markets to midnight blinkathons in the town square, locals are mounting a spirited pushback against what they call the most farsighted piece of legislation ever enacted.
In a town already famous for its annual Potato Dress Parade and Cheese Fling Festival, Blinkton has once again claimed the national spotlight-this time for cracking down on the simplest of human reflexes: blinking. Last Tuesday evening, after a marathon 19-hour meeting that left council members bleary-eyed, Blinkton’s City Council unanimously approved Ordinance 427.12, which requires all residents over age five to secure a blinking permit, complete quarterly eyelid movement audits, and carry proof of compliance at all times.
Council Chair Marlowe Winkler, a long-time advocate for ocular order, opened the meeting by declaring blinking “a resource as precious as clean water.” According to his remarks, the ordinance aims to combat “blink deprivation,” a phenomenon the city claims has led to an estimated 27 percent drop in local productivity over the past six months. Precise data supporting the figure remains locked behind the council’s internal servers-ostensibly for “public eye safety”-but rumors suggest it was distilled from three tweets and a single Vine compilation of kitten fails.
Under the new law, each Blinkton resident must first download the official BlinkLog app, register an account, and schedule a biometric eye scan at City Hall’s Ocular Compliance Wing. Applicants receive a photo-ID-style BlinkPass card coded with their maximum daily blink quota, blinking speed allowance, and a color-coded status stripe indicating whether they’re in compliance (green), nearing their limit (yellow), or dangerously close to ocular exhaustion (red). A built-in NFC chip allows blinking police officers to scan the card on the spot, though many officers reportedly still lack the patience to follow up when citizens sheepishly admit they “just had one too many surprise sneezes.”
Public reaction has been swift and theatrical. On Wednesday morning, more than 100 residents formed a human chain around City Hall, linking arms and miming constant winking in protest. Local mime troupe Silent Hysteria filed a lawsuit claiming the ordinance infringes on their core performance art, which relies heavily on rapid blinking to convey existential dread. Grocery store owner Tasha Reed said she’ll keep blinking behind her counter but refuse to scan customers’ BlinkPass cards, having replaced her point-of-sale scanners with vintage cash registers in a show of solidarity. “We’re ending the tyranny of unlicensed eyelid movements,” she proclaimed while manually weighing tomatoes on an antique scale. Tomatoes, she added, will remain as free as blinks should be.
A black market has sprung up almost overnight, trading in contraband eyelid weights and homemade blink-stalling patches. Shady vendors peddle micro-weighted eyelashes that promise to slow blinking speed, allowing desperate citizens to conserve precious blinks until their next audit. Others hawk “BlinkFree Wristbands” that deliver a gentle electric jolt whenever the wearer closes their eyes, thus forcing them to keep blinking at regulated intervals. Social media feeds are flooded with testimonials from supposed BlinkZero smugglers who whisper, “Trade your tears for tokens, and see freedom once more.” The city’s Department of Civic Optics has condemned these hacks as “dangerous and reckless” and urged residents to report any suspicious eyelash trades to 555-BLNK.
Even courtroom drama has emerged. This past Thursday, self-described “Blinking Rights Activist” Jean-Paul Napper stood trial after allegedly exceeding his daily blink limit by 37 blinks. Napper’s attorney argued that spontaneous emotional reactions-especially during his daughter’s recital-should qualify for a blinking exception. The judge, whose bench apparently doubles as a reclining lounge chair for power naps, fined Napper two dozen sugar-free lollipops and sentenced him to 12 hours of public service cleaning the city’s Surveillance Mirror Park, where overlarge, reflective installations track resident compliance in real time.
Local businesses are scrambling to adapt. The Blinkton Coffee Cooperative now offers a new “BlinkBoost” espresso shot with eye-brightening ingredients, promising to replenish exhausted blinkers. Optometrist Dr. Lin Zhang just launched a “Compliance Eyewear” line featuring tiny blinking sensors embedded in the frames. For residents who prefer analog solutions, Berti’s Mechanical Timers sells wind-up desk timers that chime every 15 seconds-the city’s recommended interval for a single blink-so home-office workers can click their way back into green status.
Not everyone is inclined to full rebellion. Senior citizen Agnes McBride quietly reported her neighbor when an unauthorized blinkathon erupted on her lawn last Tuesday. Known for her immaculate flower beds and zero tolerance for rogue winks, McBride insisted that “civilization depends on perfect eyelid economy.” Meanwhile, local schools are in disarray as teachers struggle to enforce blink quotas in classrooms. Third graders now hold “blink breaks,” where they must collectively blink 20 times in unison-or face a mandatory pop-quiz on the history of ocular regulation.
Civic groups have formed faster than you can say “ocular upheaval.” The Committee for Responsible Eye Flutters, led by janitor-turned-activist Hector Alvarez, supports moderate regulation but opposes the heavy fines and intrusive reporting apps. Its rival, Watchtower of the Unblinking, is so radical they encourage members to never close their eyes under any circumstances. Alvarez describes them as “the extreme fringe” and claims they once tried to hypnotize the mayor during a council meeting by blinking in perfect sync.
The economic impact is already showing. Blinkton Eyewear Inc., the franchise that supplies nearly all prescription frames to city residents, reported a 42 percent surge in sales within days of the ordinance’s announcement. At the same time, BlinkLog’s subscription model boasts an impressive uptick: over 8,000 residents signed up for premium “All-You-Can-Blink” tracking packages that include monthly eyelid lubrication deliveries and priority customer support.
On the city’s official forum, comments range from despair to comedic resignation. One user quipped, “I haven’t blinked in three days. I think I’m starting to see through time.” Another confessed, “I accidentally practiced karaoke in the bathroom mirror and blinked 400 times in ten minutes. Am I going to jail or just require corrective therapy?” The council has promised leniency for first-time offenders but warns of “mandatory ocular rehabilitation camps” for repeat violators.
Meanwhile, a grassroots festival is in the works: the Blinkton Midnight Blinkathon. Organizers hope to raise awareness-and maybe some funds for legal defense-by hosting a synchronized blinking relay across Main Street. Prizes include a lifetime supply of artificial tears, a deluxe eye-rest pillow, and the highly coveted “Blink Medal” featuring a sculpted eyelid mid-closure.
Experts warn that overregulation of even the most mundane human behaviors can have unintended consequences. A recent study from the Institute for Practical Absurdities suggests that when governments micromanage basic reflexes, citizens tend to subvert the rules in ingenious ways-sometimes leading to more chaos than control. “Blinkton might end up spending twice as much on enforcement as it ever gains in productivity,” the study concludes, “all while causing a town-wide spike in dry-eye syndrome and secondhand eye strain.”
As of press time, the Blinkton City Council is debating a follow-up ordinance that would regulate laugh decibels and snore durations. Chair Winkler insists these measures are under careful consideration, though many wonder if he’s simply trying to catch up with his own reflection in the municipal mirror wall. For now, residents continue their animated protests, contraband eyelash trades, and midnight blink marathons, all under the gleaming glare of what was once a sleepy small town.
In a place where every eye movement is now a potential violation, Blinkton stands as a cautionary tale: when regulation gets too close to home-literally passing between your lashes-compliance can feel like an eye-watering affair.