Greetings British!
As you know, my predecessor, Gordonicus Laborius (also known as “Gordonicus the terrible because he was, well, bloody terrible) has kindly bowed down on his sword and it has been my honour, along with my Coalitium Desperandum cohorts, to have been chosen by to the Emperor for his elevation to high office through the Festival of Dupus Electus. Consequently, I have taken the reins of power in this troubled Province.
It seems appropriate at this time to address you, the commoner masses, directly now that I have only a few weeks in office and things are proceeding as smoothly as a loose cart on a steep incline and the high hopes awaiting my assumption of office. the governorate have completed their 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”, I was of course speaking symbolically: I have discovered that my high office does not actually 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 didn’t know until I took office that there was an Emperor or a Hiddum Agendum, although I do remember with nostalgia the heady days when my responsibilities were merrily confined to sardonically heaping contempt for the hapless Gordonicus, sagely watching the footsteps of the Senate and dreaming up policies that sounded different than the ones that already had the state’s galley leaking below the waterline and sinking fast, I’m not sure how I managed to miss the glaringly obvious.
The fact that almost everyone else in the country knew about it, thanks to the irresponsible agitations of the renegade faction, Conspiricus Theorus, who got the land’s slaves, artisans, commoners, and petty merchants to hurl insults at the Televisium, was particularly annoying. .
Why the hell didn’t anyone think to mention it to me? I can imagine the ousted Gordonicus having a laugh at my expense now that I’m well loaded.
But that’s life. I couldn’t be expected to know everything and there was little time in my busy schedule to gain an understanding of economics, the real world we live in, or indeed the people who inhabit it. Furthermore, we have hundreds of years of history to attest to the fact 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 imprinted on me in no uncertain terms, I have had to make some minor adjustments to the plans that I and my co-governor, Nickus Cleggus, created when we thought that we would be in actual control of a sovereign nation, rather than provincial administrators acting on behalf of the Empire (known as “The Union” or “Democracy”).
The main, very minor, adjustment in our thinking has been to change from making decisions and trying to direct things to not making any decisions or doing anything unless the Emperor or his parent agencies, such as the World Debt Emporium or Complex Militaria, do so. indicate. Industry.
Fortunately, many of our policies, known as “Adjustmens Cosmetix,” were more or less the same policies already used by Gordonicus and his predecessors: political and economic measures that had been so successful in the bloodless subjugation of Britannia, their renunciation of the will to live and its consequent incorporation into the Empire.
As such, these policies already bore the imperial seal of approval and Her Majesty likes to see people come up with creative ideas on how to disguise the verbiage surrounding them, or even hide them. That’s why I was chosen to be elected: the Emperor wants the regional administrators to represent his interests, deflecting the wrath of the natives and the like, so that they at least look like they can be blamed.
Very little had to change then, beyond dropping any great ideas we might have had about our position in the grand scheme of things and once we did that, we managed to fit happily but nonetheless disappointed into the smooth-spinning gears and grinding stones. of the imperial mill.
Our huge, sweeping vision that ignited the public imagination and set a majestic new horizon for the nation, to “balance the books by cutting all non-essential services like hospitals, schools, and the police, and pushing the citizenry of this great nation hardship”, had to go – well, at least the “balancing the books” part, which we’ve been told is actually impossible. The rest of our grand vision remains intact, and so we plan to push ahead with sweeping reforms that, like all the best reforms, will avoid bringing real change to the equation, except, of course, where we can make things worse.
Therefore, we are confident that we can reverse the failures of Gordonicus, whose rule caused the province to sink to the 15th most powerful place in the Empire. We fully intend to see Britannia sweep to 16th or 17th position, though ultimately the fate of any given province largely depends on who, if anyone, the Emperor likes at the time.
Be that as it may, it is now up to me to address you as your Governor and inform you about all the great advances that the Empire to which it is subjugated has made and my immediate plans for this Province.
There is a lot of positive news to pass on to them, news that, while it may not be cause for celebration, will at least convince you to keep your head down and refrain from rocking the boat.
The Loan sharks Guild and its global network of Debt Emporia have continued to prosper beyond all dreams of greed, while the agents of Onerus Incumtax, the Imperial Proconsul for Threats and Extortion, have devised ever more ingenious ways to get the money out of the commoner money that the aforementioned plebs would have wasted on food and clothing.
The apothecaries of the Pharmacopoeia, from whose ubiquitous dispensaries spew magic pills and potions, known in popular parlance as Serius Sideffex, have thrown their doors wide open to the nation’s children and thus prosper beyond belief. Or at least they would, if those very pills and potions didn’t rob their recipients of their onerous capacity for imagination.
It’s a similar success story for makers of fortifications, pitchforks, claymores, slave collars, and tombstones, all of whom report skyrocketing profits.
Which brings us to our peacekeeping operations: Britannia auxiliaries continue to defy friendly fire in their selfless and, indeed, often futile sacrifice in support of the legions of the Complex Militaria Industria, who fight tirelessly against hordes barbarians who, under their leader Holdus Toransum, threaten at any moment to sweep the Empire and impose the ignominy of not invading anyone. 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.
Critics may argue that our peacekeeping efforts have resulted in prolonged and incessant warfare, but that is surely a small price to pay for our peace of mind, not to mention that it gives the population something to think about other than hanging their masters and lords. Furthermore, the peaceful sandal maker of today could easily become the blood-crazed terrorist of tomorrow, unless we take firm steps to prevent it, preferably before the thought has crossed his mind.
(This address continues in the second part)
