by DIMSUM AGGLOMERATIZATONALISTICALISM, Alternate Reality News Service International Writer
Grandmaster Interactive-FlexTime looks out over his plastic kingdom, bobbing ever so gently on the Pacific Ocean and thinks…something. I don’t have access to his brain, so I cannot know what he is thinking, and what he tells me he is thinking may or may not be an accurate reflection of what he is actually thinking. Since, as a journalist, I’m trained to report only on the facts, I have to let this powerful lede go to waste.
It has been three months since the United Nations formally recognized the Duchy of Grand Fenwick as a sovereign nation. In that time, although it has been the subject of jokes on late night television and spam from Nigerian princes and companies whose products are guaranteed to improv your sxe life, it hasn’t been invaded, subject to an economic embargo or lost its Internet access.
“I consider that, like, personal vindication, like, wow, man” Grandmaster Interactive-FlexTime, the leader of the new nation (and its only citizen) commented with a self-satisfied belch. “If I can’t check in on my Facebook friends every couple of hours, I get really, really grumpy.”
Grandmaster Interactive-FlexTime, who was born Tom Finnegan (“Did you have to mention that? Booooring!”), is a marine biologist with a Second Degree Blue Belt in Molecular Manipulation. His area of expertise is garbage, but not just any garbage (“I really don’t want to go through your trash cans, man. Why? You throw out something gnarly?”): he wanted to do something about the three million tons of mostly plastic garbage that had been collecting in oceanic gyres (surprisingly, not a word made up by Lewis Carroll) in the Pacific.
“You know your rubber ducky, man?” Grandmaster Interactive-FlexTime rhetorically asked. “Well, he’s the one…killing the ocean. But, you never hear Ernie singing about that…I wonder why that is?”
To combat the problem, Grandmaster Interactive-FlexTime developed nanobots that fused stray pieces of plastic together. Individually, the plastic was killing fish that ate bits of plastic thinking it was food or got trapped in plastic mazes. “It’s about the children, man,” Grandmaster Interactive-FlexTime explained. “No, wait…”
While other scientists might have spent years milking the government for research grants while testing the technology in labs, Grandmaster Interactive-FlexTime set it loose in the Pacific Ocean. His nanobots worked, fusing all the plastic garbage into a single mass. The size of Texas. Seeing what had happened, he did what any self-respecting scientist would do.
Grandmaster Interactive-FlexTime set up a server farm on the mass, hoisted a flag and declared himself a sovereign data and money haven.
“It’s a rad flag, man,” Grandmaster Interactive-FlexTime stated, belching thoughtfully. “All, purple and brown with a silhouette of a Mac, cause PCs suck. And, we have a national bird, the Peregrine Falcon, cause it’s real swoopy, right? And, I’m thinking of Azaleas as the national plant, but, when you’re talking about your sovereignty, you know, you gotta get the details just right.”
And, why did he call his country the Duchy of Grand Fenwick? “You’re not much of a Peter Sellers fan, are you?” Grandmaster Interactive-FlexTime belched sadly.
When he first applied for membership in the United Nations, Grandmaster Interactive-FlexTime was met with skepticism. It was pointed out that the nanobots continued to work, adding to the outer edges of the plastic mass. “That whole ‘stable borders’ thing was, like, so twentieth century,” Grandmaster Interactive-FlexTime argued. “I mean, really, hasn’t anybody been paying attention to Afghanistan and Pakistan? I mean, if you don’t want my country to grow, stop throwing your plastic crap in the ocean.”
With unassailable logic like that, it was only a matter of time before the United Nations recognized the Duchy of Grand Fenwick.
“As a sovereign democratic country, the Duchy of Grand Fenwick is welcome to take its place among civilized nations,” United States Ambassador to the UN Sissy Telford read from a prepared statement. “And, if it should find itself in need of protection for any reason from any threat, the United States would be honoured to offer it whatever help it requires.”
“They want my nanotech, man,” Grandmaster Interactive-FlexTime translated, belching contemptuously, “but they know that if they, like, attack me, they could set the whole structure on fire, killing humungous amounts of fish and whales and plankton and stuff. So, they pretend to be my friend. Skeezy, man. Very skeezy.”
“China wishes to express solidarity with the new nation of Grand Fenwick,” Chinese Ambassador to the UN Xaio Ting-Ting read from a prepared statement, “and condemns the naked rhetorical aggression of the United States.”
“Them, too, man,” Grandmaster Interactive-FlexTime responded, scarfing some chocolate and dill pickle Doritos and downing it with the New Old Coke.
“Good show,” British Ambassador to the UN Sir Clive Maguffin stated off the cuff. “Bloody good show.”
“Uhh, yeah. I never did get the British.” Grandmaster Interactive-FlexTime said, wiping mustard off his mouth on the sleeve of his sweat-stained shirt and belching uncertainly. He should really see a doctor about that.
Now that the Duchy of Grand Fenwick has been recognized as a sovereign nation, what will Grandmaster Interactive-FlexTime do? “I could apply for development funds,” Grandmaster Interactive-FlexTime thoughtfully stated, “or I could see Terminator Salvation again. It’s good to have choices…”