Platypus of Truth

The morning sun was shining upon our metal keen, And all across the battlefield the colors could be seen, The captains gave the order, and a thousand souls or more, Went neatly marching down to death for Parliament's Little war. Around five hundred years have elapsed since the apocalyptic upheaval that birthed the modern nation-state, a geo-political entity with powers not seen in Europe since the fall of the Roman Empire. The Protectorate wielded powers that the Angevins at the height of their empire couldn't even have dreamed of. With the rise of global terrorism, are we on the brink of a new age of upheaval that will bring down this cornerstone of the modern world? Time will tell, but one thing is certain: not even the celestial order of the stars will last forever.

There is a place where I met a group of men who live their lives bounded within a box. All these men face inward toward the center, they never look outward, and it is their business each day to make a more complete review of all things inside the box. As I peered over the walls I heard them saying in unison: "Oh how great and wonderful is our box, for there is naught that exists outside it! Blessed be our box, for we created it and by our hands it was created." Any assertion that there is in fact something, indeed a good many things, outside their box is met with the upmost resistance. Indeed, they will not even turn to hear you nor acknowledge your existence until you step within the confines of their box. Once inside, any attempt to tell them of the outside world is utterly in vain for they will assure you that you have always been within their box and since nothing exists outside their box you must be a liar or deluded. Oh how they delight to spend both their venom and th...