Greetings British!
As you know, my predecessor, Gordonicus Laborius (aka “Gordonicus the terrible because he was, well, damn terrible) has kindly fallen on his sword and it has been an honor for me, along with my cohorts from the Coalitium Desperandum, to have been chosen by the Emperor. to be elevated to high office through the Festival of Dupus Electus. Consequently, I have seized the kidneys of power in this troubled province.
It seems appropriate at this juncture to address you, the commoner masses, directly now that I have been in my tenure for a few weeks and things are moving as smoothly as a loose car on a steep incline and in the face of the high hopes that attended my assumption of the governorship I have completed its traditional evaporation.
The first thing I should point out, and let me be very clear about this, is that when I used the term “reins of power”, of course, I was speaking symbolically: I discovered that my high office does not exercise power as such, except the power to follow. the dictates and edicts of His Majesty Caesar Nefarius Vexus and the Illuminati of his imperial council, the Hiddum Agendum.
To tell the truth, I did not know until I took office that there was an Emperor or a Hiddum Agendum, though remembering with nostalgia the heady days when my responsibilities were confined to gleefully scorn the hapless Gordonicus, who seemed wise in the footsteps of the Senate and dreaming up policies that sounded different than the ones that already had the state’s galley tucked below the waterline and sinking fast, I’m not sure how I managed to overlook the glaringly obvious.
The fact that almost everyone in the country knew about it, thanks to the irresponsible agitations of the renegade Conspiricus Theorus faction, which got the slaves, artisans, commoners and small merchants of the land to hurl insults at the Televisium, was particularly upsetting.
Why the hell didn’t anyone think to mention it to me? I can imagine that the deposed Gordonicus is laughing quietly at my expense now that I am well and truly heavy.
But that’s life. I couldn’t be expected to know everything and there was little time in my busy schedule to acquire an understanding of the economy, the real world we live in, or indeed the people who inhabit it. Furthermore, we have hundreds of years of history to attest that these are not necessary skills for the leaders of nations.
Be that as it may, now that the Emperor has made himself known to me and the realities of life have been impressed upon me in no uncertain terms, I have had to make some minor adjustments to the plans than myself and my co-governor, Nickus. Cleggus, made when we thought we would have actual control of a sovereign nation, rather than provincial administrators acting on behalf of the Empire (known as “The Union” or “Democracy”).
The main adjustment, very small, in our thinking has been to go from making decisions and trying to get things done to not making any decisions or doing nothing unless directed to do so by the Emperor or his main agencies, such as the World Debt Emporium. or the Complex Militaria. Industry.
Fortunately, many of our policies, known as “Adjustmens Cosmetix”, were more of the same policies already used by Gordonicus and his predecessors: political and economic measures that had proven so successful in the bloodless subjugation of Britannia, his resignation the will to live and his consequent incorporation into the Empire.
As such, these policies already carry the imperial seal of approval and His Majesty is very fond of people coming up with creative ideas on how to disguise the surrounding verbiage, or even hide them. That is why I was chosen to be elected: the Emperor wants regional administrators who represent his interests, deflect the anger of the natives, etc., at least to appear guilty.
So very little had to change, beyond dropping whatever great ideas we might have had about our position in the grand scheme of things and once we did, we managed to fit unfortunately but nonetheless disappointed in the smoothly turning gears. and grinding stones. of the Imperial Mill.
Our huge and broad vision that so fired the imagination of the public and established a new and majestic horizon before the nation, to “balance the books by cutting out all non-essential services such as hospitals, schools and the police and bringing the citizens of this great nation to hardship, “had to go away – well, at least the” balancing the books “part that we’ve been told is actually impossible. The rest of our grand vision remains inviolable, and therefore we plan to press ahead with radical reforms that, like all best reforms, will avoid bringing real change to the equation, except of course when we can make things worse.
Therefore, we are confident that we will be able to reverse the failures of Gordonicus, whose tenure caused the province to sink to the 15th most powerful place in the Empire. We fully intend for Britannia to move to sixteenth or seventeenth position, although ultimately the fate of any province largely depends on who the Emperor likes at the time, if he likes anyone.
Be that as it may, it is now my turn to address you as your Governor and inform you of all the great advances that the Empire to which you are subjected has made and my immediate plans for this Province.
There is a lot of positive news to pass on to you, news that, while it may not give you cause for celebration, will at least convince you to keep your head down and refrain from rocking the boat.
The Usurers’ Guild and its global Debt Emporia network have continued to thrive beyond all dreams of greed, while Onerus Incumtax’s agents, the Imperial Proconsul of Threats and Extortions, have devised ever more ingenious ways to extract a lever of the commoner bag. money that the aforementioned mob would otherwise have wasted on food and clothing.
The apothecaries of the Pharmacopoeia, from whose ubiquitous dispensaries flow magic pills and potions, known in popular parlance as Serius Sideffex, have opened their doors to the nation’s children and thus thrive beyond belief. Or at least they would, if those same pills and potions didn’t rob their beneficiaries of their onerous powers of imagination.
It’s a similar success story for makers of fortifications, tridents, claymores, slave collars, and tombstones, all of which are reporting dizzying profits.
Which brings us to our peacekeeping operations: Britannian auxiliaries continue to defy friendly fire in their selfless and indeed often futile sacrifice in support of the legions of the Militaria Industrial Complex, which tirelessly campaign against the barbarian hordes that, under their leader Holdus Toransum, threaten at any moment. time to sweep away the Empire and force ourselves to the ignominy of invading no one. That support, I must add, shames the one that comes from other provinces like Gaul and Germania, which seem quite incapable of getting into the spirit of the thing.
Naysayers may argue that our peacekeeping efforts have resulted in a prolonged and incessant war, but that it is surely a small price to pay for our peace of mind, not to mention that we give the population something to think about other than hook their lords and masters. Furthermore, the peaceful sandal maker of today could easily become the blood-crazed terrorist of tomorrow unless we take firm action to prevent it, preferably before the idea has even occurred to him.
(This address continues in the second part)