Lynxhannesburg
20-04-2008, 21:30
OOC: My intro for this MT nation. Open to general comments, diplomatic responses and the like. Hope you enjoy.
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“Ladies and Gentlemen; the Guardian and Protector of the Free Land of Lynxhannesburg, Generalissimo Maximillian Steel!”
The crowd of roughly several hundred clapped loudly, with half-hearted cheers from several in the crowd as they gripped long coats around their necks against the dying heat of the day. Along either side of the boulevard that led to the Generalissimo’s Palace, keeping their beady eyes on the crowd’s movements, infantry from the unified military force of the Lynxhannesburg City State, the Free Land Surculus Nex Exercitus, stood at attention behind stern gazes and tightly-gripped machine guns. A vague gesture by several infantrymen caused the cheers to amplify considerably as members of the crowd decided that cause and effect was somewhat important where automatic weapons were involved. Pavlov may have made dogs drool with a bell, but an AK-47 would have had the animal leaping somersaults through a hoop.
Satisfied with the increase of noise, the Generalissimo of Lynxhannesburg strode purposefully into view from one side of the hastily-erected wooden platform. He paused for a moment before the podium with a practiced sneer that mixed the perfect amount of haughtiness and elitism, looking across the forced smiles of the crowd before him. Dressed head-to-toe in a uniform of black, his breast pocket carried enough medals to make Idi Amin drown in his own saliva. Behind him and adorning the podium, the flag of the Free Land of Lynxhannesburg was lit proudly by several high power spotlights. The white circle upon a red background held the silhouette of an Eagle diving, talons outstretched, towards a small mouse below it. The flag had been commissioned one hundred years before by Marcus Cane, the first Generalissimo of Lynxhannesburg, also known as the “gentlemen Generalissimo” due to his belief in good manners, such as allowing political opponents a final cigarette and a bathroom visit before being summarily executed. The symbolic animal of the Lynxhannesburg government bearing down on the weaker party; the original dictator of Lynxhannesburg had maintained a disturbing appreciation for truthful humour and symbolism.
As the cheering gradually died to an uncomfortable silence (the population of Lynxhannesburg had quickly realised that cheering for as long as possible was normally wise on state occasions), Generalissimo Steel cleared his throat and glanced down at his speech. He squinted; the all-powerful, strong-willed leader of the Free Land had a problem with his sight, but refused to accept the fact. Opticians had long given up telling him in the truth about the condition of his vision, as reports of anything less than perfection normally resulted in the messenger being more than metaphorically shot.
“My fellow citizens of the Free Land,” Steel declared after a moment of studying the paper. “Today is an austere…no, wait…” He stopped, squinted again at the paper. “…auspicious occasion. The great triumph of the Free Land has been the management of an internal…erm…interspecies…” The Generalissimo held the paper up to his eye-line, nose almost pressed against the parchment as he muttered possibilities to himself. There were a few embarrassed coughs and a general shuffling of feet. One soldier was dozing quietly against a wall.
“Independent!” Steel declared, waking the soldier from his sleep and causing several members of the crowd to jump. “An independent national economy, free from…extreme…existential…external! External infl…erm…”
The crowd collectively sighed, and several governmental officials settled into more comfortable positions in their seats at the back of the podium. Two hours later and eighty-five minutes over the original length planned for the speech, the general message as understood by the crowd was as follows; after a century of trying to maintain a self-sufficient economic system, the economic advisors of the Lynxhannesburg state had finally brought up the courage to tell the Generalissimo that his paranoid delusions regarding a completely independent economic system were not only economically infeasible, but the cause of quite a few unintended civilian deaths. The Free Land was broke and starving, and industry within the city-state was still mastering the marvels of using computerised production lines run by Sinclairs. Farming in the outlying areas of the city-state was not so much self-sufficient as self-managing, with government quotas being completely ignored and farmers simply trading between each-other. Nobody in the high levels of government knew about this because, quite frankly, nobody was brave enough to mention it.
And so a momentous decision had been taken, and a very reluctant Generalissimo Steel had authorised some of his more competent civil servants to begin organising diplomatic relations with other countries to bring basic necessities to the population of Lynxhannesburg. Initially, Steel had been completely against the idea, being a graduate of the school of paranoid nationalism and believing foreigners to be not only irritating but the actual devil. His mind had been eventually changed, mostly after someone pointed out that, irregardless of the malnourished population, food was getting scarce for the army, and when the army got hungry in Lynxhannesburg it had a tendency to voice its annoyance at the situation with bullets, bayonets and burning things.
And so the speech was broadcast internationally, the newly-formed Ministry for Dealing with Foreigners and Other Miscellaneous Situations utilising the somewhat dated communication relays of the city-state to send out the message.
The Free Land of Lynxhannesburg was not open for business, but had poked its head around the door to peek out at the world. God help the world.
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“Ladies and Gentlemen; the Guardian and Protector of the Free Land of Lynxhannesburg, Generalissimo Maximillian Steel!”
The crowd of roughly several hundred clapped loudly, with half-hearted cheers from several in the crowd as they gripped long coats around their necks against the dying heat of the day. Along either side of the boulevard that led to the Generalissimo’s Palace, keeping their beady eyes on the crowd’s movements, infantry from the unified military force of the Lynxhannesburg City State, the Free Land Surculus Nex Exercitus, stood at attention behind stern gazes and tightly-gripped machine guns. A vague gesture by several infantrymen caused the cheers to amplify considerably as members of the crowd decided that cause and effect was somewhat important where automatic weapons were involved. Pavlov may have made dogs drool with a bell, but an AK-47 would have had the animal leaping somersaults through a hoop.
Satisfied with the increase of noise, the Generalissimo of Lynxhannesburg strode purposefully into view from one side of the hastily-erected wooden platform. He paused for a moment before the podium with a practiced sneer that mixed the perfect amount of haughtiness and elitism, looking across the forced smiles of the crowd before him. Dressed head-to-toe in a uniform of black, his breast pocket carried enough medals to make Idi Amin drown in his own saliva. Behind him and adorning the podium, the flag of the Free Land of Lynxhannesburg was lit proudly by several high power spotlights. The white circle upon a red background held the silhouette of an Eagle diving, talons outstretched, towards a small mouse below it. The flag had been commissioned one hundred years before by Marcus Cane, the first Generalissimo of Lynxhannesburg, also known as the “gentlemen Generalissimo” due to his belief in good manners, such as allowing political opponents a final cigarette and a bathroom visit before being summarily executed. The symbolic animal of the Lynxhannesburg government bearing down on the weaker party; the original dictator of Lynxhannesburg had maintained a disturbing appreciation for truthful humour and symbolism.
As the cheering gradually died to an uncomfortable silence (the population of Lynxhannesburg had quickly realised that cheering for as long as possible was normally wise on state occasions), Generalissimo Steel cleared his throat and glanced down at his speech. He squinted; the all-powerful, strong-willed leader of the Free Land had a problem with his sight, but refused to accept the fact. Opticians had long given up telling him in the truth about the condition of his vision, as reports of anything less than perfection normally resulted in the messenger being more than metaphorically shot.
“My fellow citizens of the Free Land,” Steel declared after a moment of studying the paper. “Today is an austere…no, wait…” He stopped, squinted again at the paper. “…auspicious occasion. The great triumph of the Free Land has been the management of an internal…erm…interspecies…” The Generalissimo held the paper up to his eye-line, nose almost pressed against the parchment as he muttered possibilities to himself. There were a few embarrassed coughs and a general shuffling of feet. One soldier was dozing quietly against a wall.
“Independent!” Steel declared, waking the soldier from his sleep and causing several members of the crowd to jump. “An independent national economy, free from…extreme…existential…external! External infl…erm…”
The crowd collectively sighed, and several governmental officials settled into more comfortable positions in their seats at the back of the podium. Two hours later and eighty-five minutes over the original length planned for the speech, the general message as understood by the crowd was as follows; after a century of trying to maintain a self-sufficient economic system, the economic advisors of the Lynxhannesburg state had finally brought up the courage to tell the Generalissimo that his paranoid delusions regarding a completely independent economic system were not only economically infeasible, but the cause of quite a few unintended civilian deaths. The Free Land was broke and starving, and industry within the city-state was still mastering the marvels of using computerised production lines run by Sinclairs. Farming in the outlying areas of the city-state was not so much self-sufficient as self-managing, with government quotas being completely ignored and farmers simply trading between each-other. Nobody in the high levels of government knew about this because, quite frankly, nobody was brave enough to mention it.
And so a momentous decision had been taken, and a very reluctant Generalissimo Steel had authorised some of his more competent civil servants to begin organising diplomatic relations with other countries to bring basic necessities to the population of Lynxhannesburg. Initially, Steel had been completely against the idea, being a graduate of the school of paranoid nationalism and believing foreigners to be not only irritating but the actual devil. His mind had been eventually changed, mostly after someone pointed out that, irregardless of the malnourished population, food was getting scarce for the army, and when the army got hungry in Lynxhannesburg it had a tendency to voice its annoyance at the situation with bullets, bayonets and burning things.
And so the speech was broadcast internationally, the newly-formed Ministry for Dealing with Foreigners and Other Miscellaneous Situations utilising the somewhat dated communication relays of the city-state to send out the message.
The Free Land of Lynxhannesburg was not open for business, but had poked its head around the door to peek out at the world. God help the world.