HOW THE SOUTHWEST WAS WON; or, AUSTERITY MEASURES, part 1143

the narrow littoral region at the western edge of the continent is by no means a stranger to conflict, but visitors who manage to avoid the agitation in the streets should still manage to discovery its characteristically idyllic charm. to be sure: the luminous capital on the coast and the old roman city in the southeastern interior have seen their share of ravage (both historical and as a result of the delicacy of the political situation at present), but their quiet way of wearing their not so hidden diminuition is as a testament to the resolve of the entire country to do its best to maintain the calm, which is certainly being tested by the current crisis. interlopers will lope. and if it's angela merkel and the international monetary fund that are having their way playing at queens and kings throughout the rest of the zone, then the problem in that country at the eastern edge of the sea is undeniably british. because the british didn't want to deal with the problem, and so they've mounted the vanguard and led the world in sending the problem somewhere else. after their own conflict ridden real estate adventure in the region, why not? two birds with one stone, they thought, maybe, as they encouraged the problem group to resettle. after all, the diplomats argue as they survey the map in the aftermath of the culture wars, these people shouldn't be forced to live in scattered diaspora throughout the countries of the north. why should this displaced, persecuted people not have a country of its own, a country founded on its devotion to a shared faith?

and so the hippies were packed into their campers and sent with smiles to follow the sacred call of their world music to the promised land. and when they arrived, they said the calm was theirs -- and that it had been -- and they circled their campers around fires in the parking lots and campgrounds behind the british owned vacation homes on the beach. and at every world music festival in that narrow littoral region at the western edge of the continent was to be heard the sacred cry of "woof!"

the families whose families had been in the region for centuries should be willing to share this holy land, the queens and kings of europe argued, and -- happy to have the hippies gone from their own territories -- they supported the policies of the british in its new mandate. the families, however, would only be pushed so far. when there were fewer seats at the festivals for their children than for the interlopers' dogs, and when there was no more room to strike because the newcomers slept with their dogs in the streets, the families closed the campgrounds and imposed stricter hiring regulations at the organic farms. and the hippies called it inhumanitarian -- terrorism! -- their firmly shut to the effects of the shortages caused by the needs of their dogs on the children of the families. so they appealed to great britain (or was it germany...or the united states), and mom and dad send money so that the hippies could stand and fight for their religion, in hopes that the world music wouldn't come back to play at home.

now the hippies are building a wall.

and when the displaced families are forced to abandon the (now only mythic) idyll of their calm and move east, they're met with indifferent excuses. the people across the border have much in common with the displaced families, but they would prefer that the families try to resettle their country from the resettlers -- and that they do it themselves. the people across the border have their own problems with the hippies -- not to mention with angela, the imf and its own dog soiled streets.

"woof!" the idea wasn't entirely misintended on any side, although all sides might agree that the ones who think their dogs have mastered the execution of socialism and don't deserve the kindness of a leash might be better off nowhere. really, hippie, it's fighting with everything. and it's shitting on the beach.