Septentrion Regional Headlines

[Themiclesia]

Sept. 12, 2021

At recruitment fair marines bet uniforms with exhibition-goers over FACs

Kien-k’ang • Potential recruits at the annual Naval Technology Exhibition will be granted a year-long coupon for free meals at the Marines HQ on 7 Crystal Park, if they can guess the number of FACs (guided missile boats) now commissioned correctly.

The penalty? The loser must wear the marine corps’s uniform for 30 days, without taking it off, even in bed or a bath. They must wear it wherever they do or go, and the Marines spokesperson threatened that, as a force with “very sophisticated intelligence apparatus”, they “have ways to detect non-compliance”. Luckily, any loser has an immediate ticket out of this very unpleasant predicament if they join up, with the Marines of course.

“The deal is simple,” Colonel Pit, commander of the Qrut Empress Engineers said. “If you win, you get to be the special person when you walk about in the headquarters, and you can do it for an entire year, plus a spot at the top table and twelve-course meals, the lot. But if you lose, you would be a walking billboard for us for 30 days.”

“How is wearing your uniform for 30 days going to help your recruitment campaign?” Andrew Krat, our reporter, asked.

“Well, it’s all about starting conversations, to force people to talk about us,” Pit replied. “In the first place, anyone you know would ask what befell you. Second, because we don’t shop in uniform, we expect people would speak of you as a noob. Third, at the end of it all, we anticipate people will start speak of your hygiene or the wrinkles on your clothes, because we’d bet our private money you wouldn’t iron something over your skin.”

“What motivated you to pursue this strategy, which you have not attempted before?”

“The Coast Guard,” Pit replied, “always has dozens of its members parading its uniforms at its recruitment events, and that seems to have a wonderful visual effect. We stole a leaf out of their book but made it better: we get losers of this bet to parade our uniforms, because marines have actual jobs to do.”

At the start of the day, bettors were called to write their names onto a Styrofoam ball which is then dropped into a chest. At the relevant segment, bettors were drawn and asked to shout their answer to the audience. The event drew a crowd of no small size, though evidently most bettors were quite young and indeed to be dissuaded from entering multiple times.

Ilmari Krem, aged 20 and described as an “avid modeller of the Themiclesian fleet”, confidently declared the answer to be 32. Unfortunately, he was equally confidently forced to give up his clothes and leave the place in a uniform.

In a fit of amazement, Krem lost his temper and profanely ejaculated at the hosts, declaring that he “could not possibly be wrong” as he “had a model for each of the 32.” However, Colonel Pit set him straight in the most civil manner:

“Listen, boy, when the Marines tell you the fleet does not have 32 FFGs, you better consign yourself to believing it however many your silly models are. In fact, I’ve stood on the decks of all [gasp]… all of them.”

Charles Merrell, aged 17, proffered the number of 33, but he was slapped with the uniform likewise. He, too, gave protestations, that he was a student at a private preparatory school and was not at liberty to wear the uniform at school.

“Too bad,” Pit blurted. “You made the bet. Wet your bed.”

Patricia Ren, aged 24, having introduced herself as a student of international relations at the Army Academy, gave her estimate as 31.

“Well,” Pit sighed, “it’s never the same considering where you’re educated, isn’t it?”

“Am I right?” She asked, cocking her head.

“Most certainly not,” he spouted as his resurrected energy brimmed, “and I can already hear the snide remarks the professors with smells under their noses will make of you. My dear young woman, I wish you the best of luck when you’re at Bri Hall, and I speak from personal experience as I absolutely detest that school.”

“Are you an alumnus?” She asked.

“Most reluctantly,” Pit replied.

“The traitor Colonel Pit’s name has not been forgotten, according to my information,” she rejoined.

“I profess my views with belly-full pride,” he exclaimed as the assistant turned up with a man’s uniform.

She looked at them and asked for a woman’s set, but the colonel eagerly cut her off and asked who did she think she was. His arrogance, though, was short-lived, as Ren’s loudly cleared throat silenced further slights sounding forth out of his mouth.

“Yes, of course,” he relented.

Lastly, the 18-year-old Marcus Pyer ascended the scaffolding and calmly said the fleet had 290,000,000,000,000 [sic] FFGs. Pit asked if this was his “final answer”, to which he assented by a deep nod.

“I’m afraid it isn’t the shiny meal coupon waiting for you then,” he said with an irrepressible smirk.

“Do I really have to?” He asked timidly.

“Yes,” Pit hissed with a raised eyebrow. “I don’t know what came over you to make the bet. But, come to think of it, I do rather think your intention was something other than the meal coupon…”

He watched as Pyer walked into a curtained cubiculum, out of sight, to put on the uniform.

“You really do like the uniform over the year of free meals, don’t you?” Pit circled the stationary youngster who just emerged with his hands clasped behind his back. “Well go on then, put the hat on. I like its look on you. After the month elapses, call us, and hopefully we can put it on your back permanently.”

“Huh, you only have the enlisted cap?” Pyer said after tilting it and reshaping it on his head, after the latest regimental fashion.

“You want a bicorne instead? We don’t have any prepared, but you know what,” he fished his hat off his head, “since you know what you want, I’ll give mine to you. It isn’t new, but at least for the next 30 days it might look slightly better.”

“I… I appreciate it,” Pyer replied, fingering the bicorne’s fine stitch work before lifting it and carrying it under his right arm. “I do.”

“I’ve been at this job for nine years, young man,” Pit said with a hand on Pyer’s shoulder, “and I have not seen a mind as resolute as yours. You know what you want, and you’re stopping at nothing to get it.”

“Mwahahahah, sucks to be you, I guess,” Pyer suddenly let out a burst of laughter.

“Eh?” Pit yelped.

“That guy in the green blazer there,” Pyer gestured, “my cousin, Mr. Nathan Ryi, lieutenant in the 15th Regiment.”

The indicated person lifted his hat and nodded towards the stage.

“He’s promised to pay me $1,000 for a full set of marine corps uniforms that costs him $4,000 at the tailor. We were worried you wouldn’t have an officer’s bicorne, but I guess I managed to obtain it too. So, all in all, in keeping with my end of the bargain, these items will become his in 30 days time. I’ll keep the cap for myself, though.”

“What! No!” Pit clamoured with his fists in the air. “That uniform… that uniform is for people that are not already marines! It is given out to find new marines, not for the benefit of existing ones! You… you… how could you?”

“Well, I guess, it sucks to be you then.”

This agency is informed that Colonel Pit spoke to his colleagues after the event, still insistent on recruiting Pyer.

[Themiclesia]

Sept. 16, 2021

2003 sarin attack and station heist mastermind to be released, or why we should never be tolerant because we are Themiclesians

Kien-k’ang • The mastermind known as “The Light” behind the 2003 sarin gas attack on KRT’s metropolitan and city lines and the heist of Twa-ts’uk Station, which left over 100 dead, is to be released from prison today after serving his 18-year sentence.

Born in 1954, the man rose from virtually no background to become the absolute leader of a spiritual movement of thousands… and the owner of a bank account worth hundreds of millions. Though of nobody’s admission, his theology—mainly of his own divinity—was unique in a country whose religious institutions praised secular virtues and could appear almost chorus-like.

While all religious beliefs can be examined as a comment on secular issues, The Light has distinguished himself from the archbishops, gurus, and imams of Themiclesia. He did not ask his followers to give up time, attention, money, and love for something beyond bodily death. Daring to assert, nay, impose the reality of his doctrines on the material world, he declared he had dissolve the barrier between this world and the next. He wanted to bring the perfected after-world into this world, and that was commonly understood as the cause for his madness.

The Archbishop of Tsins had, on four separate occasions, denied that his church had anything to do with The Light.

Lest an impression is given this article is an obituary, we are reminded that he is alive and, apparently, in reasonably good health. Unlike others who seek to stay in control of their subordinates, it seems The Light is satisfied that his incarceration is a period of meditation or transcendental existence, of which only 18 days he will experience in the real world. He has not sent word to his followers or admitted visitors.

Wardens of the Kral-ga Prison where he has spent the last 18 years have stated that he is in “good physical condition” and “shows no sign of significant mental distress”.

It seems this nonchalant isolation has only enhanced his mystique to acolytes and solidified his incorporeality to the die-hard following. With respect to his astonishing ability to command the obedience of his followers without so much as speaking, Martin Lit, host of the prime-time Middleword show, has proposed to award “two honorary doctorates in psychology” to him.

In the trial that took place after the attack, which extended eight years and ended in the corridors of the House of Lords, The Light himself was sentenced to life in prison. However, his attorney demonstrated that the defendant had suffered neglect as a child, experienced setbacks in his love life, and may not have a perfect understanding of the consequences of his actions due to the religious environment he had established. According to sentencing guidelines, the judges reluctantly granted him a 4-year remission from the life sentence, which is calculated as a 24-year sentence for remission purposes.

In a flourishing of public anger, thousands attended a vigil for the victims and demanded the judges not remit the sentence.

“For every circumstance meriting remission,” Mr. Pek, who lost two brothers to the sarin gas attack, said, “there are a thousand meriting aggravation the law also recognizes.”

Yet at the end of the day, another law prevailed—a life sentence cannot be aggravated, but it can be remitted. Thus, the judges handed down a 10-year sentence after time already served. After the sentence was read, the trial court judge stated to the courtroom that, while the bench was aghast at the magnitude of the crime, it was satisfied that its sentence was the one provided for by the law. The judge Kam said, “We must all remember that the law which guided the court today is the same law that protects all of us. We ask that anger be reined in, if not for the sake of the prisoner, but for the sake of the laws that we have agreed to and that make us who we are.”

Yet it seems difficult to allow the same with due consideration to the grotesque casualties that his movement has legated to Themiclesian society in general—102 dead, over 4,000 injured in some way, the lingering insecurity in public transport, and the incessant and meandering debates about the regulation of religion, social accord, and so forth. These topics were somewhat taboos as admissions to considerable imperfections in a society that has branded itself successfully tolerant and multi-cultural.

On an aside, for decades Themiclesian political parties have suppressed voices that demand uniformity, whether it be linguistic or cultural. The casualties are innumerable—the Nationalist Party (of 1925), the second Nationalist Party (of 1951), the Radical Communists, the Civic Coalition, the Heritage Party, the Local Consultancy Group, etc. Even the Progressive Party have openly claimed that the main parties, the Liberals and Conservatives, collude to smother smaller parties.

“If your views are to the left of the Conservatives or to the right of the Liberals, you will be defeated by a compromise candidate with both parties’ support. If your views are between those of the Conservatives and Liberals, then your candidature is redundant,” the ousted Progressive leader N. Ki said.

That, of course, is a uniquely Progressive view not widely accepted by others. Co-operation between parties to defeat a candidate is within electoral rules, and if anything co-operation between voting groups with normally-opposite preferences is a strong expression of common desire—or in this case, disgust—of an outcome.

Some even go as far as to say Ki’s statements are insidious; after all, political parties’ co-operation means very little if not backed by a voting public, and to suggest that the parties’ collusion somehow invalidates the decision of the public really is to suggest that the decision made at the ballot box is less important than what they’ve been told by the parties, both of them.

The comparison of the oppression of small parties to the suppression of some religious beliefs, such as many have demanded after the attack, may be spurious, since it is a candidate’s right to stand but not to be elected, but a human being’s right, valid against everyone else, not to be violated. It demonstrates the point, however, that the prohibition of some religious beliefs so that the rest may co-exist can appear to be restrictive and place the monicker of a tolerant society in jeopardy.

It is a political refrain these days to swear as a politician you would speak for everyone’s cultural usages, no matter how large or small they are. That such an oath is compulsory suggests, if nothing else, that it is politically profitable to do so. It calls into question why some Themiclesians feel so invested in a subject normally restricted to ivory towers. Is it a sense of moral superiority that they get from being critical of other, more nationalist regimes? Does it require confirmation or encouragement?

The situation has evolved so far that the Terry Koppa has claimed that there is a “nationalism of the absence of nationalism” in Themiclesia—that conventional actions that carry the imagery or “taint” of nationalism, such as supporting football teams, displaying flags, singing the national anthem, etc. is castigated as un-Themiclesian. In the academic world, such a description is rarely pejorative, but in a perhaps uglier turn of events, Koppa’s work has been ardently roasted on Internet fora.

There is a certain risk to this ethic. In our increasingly divided world where identities are falling into alignment, where shades of grey fade from consciousness, a strong focus on co-operation and international harmony can be both a strong political statement domestically and a strident international position. Yet nationalisms only work up to a point. Nobody likes to be compelled to uniformity, and what is sacrificed in the name of nationhood must, to all minds, earn a return. And if the return fails to materialize, systemic collapse by way of disillusionment may prevail.

It would be a grave danger to be led to believe that tolerance results in entitlement—it does not. It is more dangerous, I say, if someone were allowed to make that promise with the expectation that it be broken in the future. Indeed, this is what fascists and their ilk have been presenting to the world as “proof” of the failure of multiculturalism. We need not contend with demeaning accusations of this sort.

In a broader sense, if we truly believed that some of our values can bring happiness to others, we should not think these values put us on a higher pane than theirs. To be wholly honest, that is a not uncommon way the Themiclesian flag is looked upon, and it is altogether not a fault of which our government is innocent. It has been said that a person’s tolerance for pain is, ironically, much better than that for indignity, and indignation is, as it is also said, the supreme motivator.

We should all be very happy that the perils I quantify do not appear, at present, to be relevant for most of us. The “nationalism of the absence of nationalism” is a series of phenomena assigned an abstract form by a observant and perceptive mind, and not a dogma that can be wielded in general society.

This is why, I think, I must raise an objection against Kam J.’s earnest reminder, which I have no doubt is delivered under great pressure and the most honourable intention, to remember our accustomed virtues as a nation, to be respect the rule of law as a Themiclesian virtue. We shall indeed respect the rule of law, but that is a virtue which has nothing to do with being Themiclesian.

[Themiclesia]

Sept. 19, 2021

Provulgation and honours for soldier saving patients in Kainan

Kien-k’ang • Ms. Naido, the sister of Henry Naido, who threw himself at a gunman and died of four shots to his chest, has published a provulgation notice on Sept. 17 instant of Henry Naido’s loss on The Times of Kien-k’ang.

In Themiclesian funerary custom, a provulgation is a formal invitation by the family to the community, to participate in the funeral. The funeral, as a rite of passage, is a very public process, and much solemnity is associated with the scale of the rites. As a matter of respect to the family, public involvement in a funeral is considered improper until the notice is given, and it is understood that the government has co-operated with the Naido family to announce posthumous honours only after the notice.

Ms. Naido has told the press that, as the next of kin of the deceased, her choice was based the newspaper preferences of the same. The Times, which is noted for its critical editorial stance of the operation in Kainan, calling it “a military occupation disguised as a relief effort”, offered to publish the notice for free, but Ms. Naido declined the offer and paid the ordinary costs of the advertisement.

“The Naido family of Daks begs the indulgence of the gentlepeople of the same, to inform most humbly and earnestly that the loving Henry Naido has died abroad on September 4, 2021… his body having been recovered… will be commended to this City at the Tert Mortuary on September 30, 2021.” the notice read.

The notice goes on to decline funerary gifts of value and defrayments.

One day after the provulgation notice has been published, Henry Naido’s name has appeared on an order paper before the House of Lords, for the approbation of posthumous honours granted in the name of the Emperor.

Henry Naido is to receive the Order of Stargaze, an order created in 1840 to honour servicepersons who show great resolve in the face of adversity in the protection of the lives of others. The name of the order commemorates the Star-gazers, a group of naval officers who observed the motions of celestial bodies, which were indispensable for safe navigation prior to the introduction of magnetic compasses. Legend states that some Star-gazers stood firmly on the open deck in 804 as battle was joined, declining to take cover so as not to omit the observation of astronomical signs. The order is awarded to servicepeople of the navy in modern practice and is the most senior available to both officers and enlisted men.

While most states place the power to grant honours within the remit of the head of state, the Themiclesian monarch by custom does not exercise his powers without the advice of his ministers. After the advice is given, the royal edict symbolically goes through the House of Lords, which sits as a vestigial committee called the Council of Attending Peers, to give approval to executive actions.

Interestingly, Henry Naido’s posthumous honours was not the sole article of business before the Council of Attending Peers today—there is another regulation, from the Ministry of Transport, that amends a previous regulation on the “width of doors perpendicular to the direction of travel” on urban trains in Tups.

While the Council of Attending Peers, which rubberstamps the government’s executive orders issued in the name of the Crown, can be as large as the entire body of peers in the government party, the La government has been considerably derelict in their appointment—only ten have been appointed, when the average number in the 20th century was as high as 35.

Both measures passed the Council with a recorded vote of 3-0.

The Minister of State for Foreign Affairs, Lord Nin, has released to the press that Henry Naido is also the posthumous recipient of the Order of the Rising Sun, 2nd Class, from Dayashina. The order is the most senior honour available to members of the Dayashinese military and has been awarded on occasion to officers and men from other countries’ forces.

“Posthumously awarded to Henry Naido for utmost gallantry, absolute moral conviction, and selflessness above and beyond the call of duty with an act of self sacrifice undertaken in the protection of defenceless innocents,” the notice in the Dayashinese government gazette read.

[Themiclesia]

Oct. 3, 2021

Rak College of Economics to take over National Rifle Competition

Kien-k’ang • The amendment to the National Rifle Competition Charter has received the Defence Secretary’s sign manual today, abolishing the requirement that a regiment of the regular army host it annually.

This is the first time since 1938 the competition is to be hosted by civilian groups, though before that time it was an intramural event between universities, admitting both civilian and military “rifle squads”. While it was under the superintendency of the War Office and (since 1970) the Defence Ministry, the host of the competition was drawn by lot amongst the regiments of the regular army, which number 693 as of 2020.

While the competition was arrogated to the armed forces in 1938 because university interest in competitive shooting was waning, the hosting of the competition has perpetually been seen as a “hot potato” passed between the regiments. This is because the cost of the competition—renting and preparing premises, accommodating competitors, and hiring umpires—is not specifically budgeted by Parliament.

Instead, the full amount issues from hosting regiment’s recreation budget, and the event may well consume the whole year’s allotment, leaving the regiment unable to afford other recreational activities.

The Lord of Kran, War Secretary in 1961, said that he hoped the regiments would “carry on the spirit of healthy, self-motivated competition”. However, his wishes have not been as realized as he may have hoped. As the host is determined by drawing lots, it could easily land in a regiment whose duties involve no gunmanship: in 2019, it fell on the Department of Bakers—which is also a regiment in the administrative sense that its members are dispersed into battalions in the field.

Not all regiments are capable of or interested in sparing the ten men required to form a squad, and participation has never been mandatory. Conversely, enthusiastic parties could form squads nearly without restriction: the Coast Guard has been prolific, sending on average 12.5 squads every year and winning the last 59 editions of the National Rifle Competition.

Ironically, it seems the Coast Guard has taken the competition most seriously, appointing a special commissioner to study the range of environments that the host may provide for a given competition. By sending multiple squads specialized for possible environments, the Coast Guard has capitalized on its immense size in comparison with the average regiment and maximized its chance of victory.

In late 2020, it was revealed that the 2021 host would be the Supernumerary Engineers, a diminutive regiment of the marine corps of only 182 members. The unit had apparently made plans for its small recreational budget already—a fund with various other Marines regiments to commission an OVA (original video animation). The unit’s colonel told the Defence Secretary that, if the scale of the competition is to match that of the previous year’s, the Supernumerary Engineers would have to go into debt.

Initially, it is understood that many other regiments objected to the Supernumerary Engineer’s attempt to dodge the hot potato.

“There have been smaller regiments and smaller budgets that have taken the National Rifle Competition before,” Major Krem of the 122nd Light Infantry said. “The Supernumerary Engineers must not be permitted to dodge it just because they want some sort of anime episode about themselves.”

However, as the Coast Guard began releasing workout and practicing videos in preparation of their anticipated 60th straight win at the competition, the mood shifted in August. It is rumoured that the actions of Dr. Skur, Captain-general of Marines, was instrumental in the mood shift. She politely hinted at the fact that the competition was no longer competitive, since the Coast Guard has “overwhelming resources” compared to the average regiment to prepare for the competition.

“The Coast Guard must not be allowed to win the National Rifle Competition for the 60th year in a row over all 693 regiments of the entire army,” Mr. Marcus Tim, lieutenant of the Empress’s Foot Guards wrote on his Facebook account. “It must be stopped at any cost, ANY cost. All 693 regiments must unite against the Coast Guard by abolishing their pet competition.”

This agency has the information of a certain Mr. Jim Pyat, who spoke to us anonymously, that the Defence Secretary has taken dozens of calls from officers of all ranks asking for a fundamental change as to the way the competition is organized.

E, short for Marine Corps Management Committee, i.e. E=MC²=(MC)(MC), was also concerned that if the Supernumerary Engineers isn’t able to make a contribution to the anime fund, their memorandum of interest with the Mak Animation Studio would expire in the current calendar year.

We are told that the principal argument is that there was practically no difference between a regimental and civilian host, and there are numerous institutions that still engage in shooting competitions in Themiclesia. It would be more appropriate, they argue, that such institutions be given the chance to host for a “more professional and informative experience” than a regiment selected randomly.

“A regiment’s duty is to provide its companies with all the training and human services they need when in their respective field battalions,” Captain Sik said to us. “A regiment is not an adequate host for a grand event that is not specifically budgeted.”

Therefore, the decision was quietly reached in the Ministry of Defence that the competition will, once again, be hosted voluntarily by civilian groups rather than randomly selected regiments.

“If the host is civilian, the Coast Guard will no longer be able to say it defeated the entire regular army,” Sik explained. “The abolition of the National Rifle Competition as a military event will uphold the dignity of the Consolidated Army and Reserve Army. And the Marines will get their anime, too.”

[Themiclesia]

Oct. 21, 2021

Halconian, the Marines band that never plays the same song

Kien-k’ang • The Halconian Ensemble, the Themiclesian Marines’ premier music group, dates to the 19th century but relies on music from the 14th to the 17th.

“The entire foundation of Halconian is on a manuscript, which we believe unique, found in the Royal Archives in 1887,” Major Trit said to us in an interview, “it was dated by its final user to 1802 and sent to the Archives for preservation. The military cuts at that time probably finished the band off, and the curator of this music too, who painstakingly copied the scores onto archival-grade paper and had it sent for preservation.”

While music is not the primary occupation of the Marines, at least three bands were in their service in the 18th century.

“The music that we play is a survivor of a centuries-long cultural dialogue spanning the Middle Ages to the 17th century,” Trit explained. “It bears witness to the acceptance and elaboration of Hallian and Casaterran music theories in Themiclesia.”

The Halconian Ensemble now often supplies music to various ceremonies where the Marines are present, though not to universal acclaim.

“We do our best like all organizers to choose the music that best suits the occasion,” Trit said with a coy grin, “but many of the pieces are untitled, and so much of its milieu are lost to our modern sensibilities.

“Particularly to modern ears accultured to modern harmonic structure and melodic progression, the music we perform can sound anything from ethereal and otherworldly, to quite hypnotic and rasping.”

Many of the group’s music instruments are custom-made, some having fallen out of use in the decades after the disbanding of the band [not intended]. These include a marimba of stones, wooden clappers, pipes, and standing drums.

The scores for the 447 preserved pieces, other than being a source of early colonial music treated by scholars, are often skeletal and leaves the performer to furnish notes according to their creativity and the needs of the occasion.

“We want to compare some of the lines we have to the figured bass in Baroque music,” Trit demystified the situation for us. “There are some rules that we can infer from other works written in this period about proper harmonization according to the composer’s granted framework. But these rules are not always in agreement with each other, much less the music received. We do take creative liberties here and there.”

The works he mentions refer to the treatises on Themiclesian music in the 12th and 13th centuries. However, scholars typify these treatises as “historically-oriented”, that is, they seek to find out historic truths about music from the perspective of their own time, and more often than not, the reasonings used intermingle with political and social concepts, reflecting the widespread belief that music expressed political and religious power and therefore entertained a certain “correctness” in alignment with political orthodoxy.

The issue of geography also comes into play, as the treatises were written in service to the imperial court and imperial cults in the metropole, where no doubt the most highly regarded music was performed, but the Marines’ music scores reflect a tradition that is more fluid, demotic, and transnational, less political, solemn, and orthodox.

“We’re quite sure these pieces were performed for the entertainment of ordinary marines, who would have no part in elite life and its quasi-political strictures on orthodox music. They likely played a part in guiding the compilation of this anthology,” Captain Mi, who accompanied Trit, told us. “We’re hearing something that a population on the very margins of history would have heard. In a limited way, we can re-animate them by understanding why they liked this music and what they felt when they heard this music.”

However, Mi also confesses that the historical uses of many of the pieces are simply lost to time. Some, which have text, have transparent meanings; others can only be compared to contemporary pieces found in other sources to infer their genre and emotion.

“Are some of these supposed to be victory marches or funerary laments? The four-syllable tunes are probably poetic, which should rule out the genre of marching songs. The ones in perfect time may represent slower, more formal compositions. Otherwise, we don’t know. We can guess, but we don’t know, but we do know that nobody else knows—we hope.”

The skeletal scores that Halconian plays presents a unique challenge to the group. If played according to the score alone, the music would be exceptionally flat.

“But what is more important to us is that a literal repetition of the score is almost certainly—nearly certainly—not intended by the composer, who really gives the performer both a challenge and a complement by leaving the harmonization and ornamentation to us. All nine members of the Halconian Ensemble are trained best to approximate the composer’s intentions, but there is always an air of sweetness when you know that your performance is unique,” Mi concluded. “As a result of this improvisational practice, none of our performances are exactly the same. We feel it best to respect the practice of improvisation and refrain from adding our interpretations to the score, which should be open, as it has been for us, to interpretations by future performers.”

[Themiclesia]

Nov. 21, 2021

Military may have dumped favourite food due to insurance policy

Kien-k’ang • A few weeks ago, a baker who is a denizen of Kainan’s capital city presented the Themiclesian forces in the region with a 300-person sized strawberry cake. The delivery of the cake was photographed and released to the press, though the pictures barely made the cut due to public attention about the shooting that led to a troop’s death that month.

Then, apparently, the forces threw the cake away without taking a single bite out of it.

This information was forwarded to us by a source in the military who, having been placed on furlough and is now in Themiclesia, wishes to remain unnamed.

“Apparently, the insurance policy that soldiers have does not cover the consumption of food in foreign states not approved by the Board of Victual Inspection, which is a government body that examines the foods provided to servicepersons,” it is declared to us. “The BVI issues certificates to manufacturers it deems having conformed to a certain standard of sourcing, sanitation, and procedural scrutiny, and the confectioner in Kainan was not amongst those certificated.”

We are told that the servicepeople now in Kainan were probably heartbroken by this measure imposed for the security of their digestive tracts.

“For the sixth year in a row, strawberry shortcake was voted as marines’ favourite food, with a preference rating of 3.6%. It edged out bagel and lox, which received 3.4%, and cod and chips with peas, with 3.3% of the vote. It is probably no accident that the confectioner who presented the cake chose this item to give to the Themiclesian troops in the region.”

This vote has been done every year since 2003, as the Ministry of Defence sought to cater better to the dietary preferences of their servicepeople.

“Unfortunately, most of the foods we receive on deployment are bastardized, airline-style versions of what we’re asking for,” Major Mep said upon our application.

“The BVI’s task is to ensure that food conforming to nutritional and preservational standards is manufactured and packaged ethically, safely, and hygienically. Its task is not to make sure the food is gastronomically appealing,” the body’s spokesperson averred. “That is the job of the menu-writers, procurers, and taste-testers; we only do the part of making sure the food is safe to eat. These two tasks are done separately to ensure independent judgement, as you don’t want people who solicit the contract to buy the food also to decide whether the food they bought is safe to eat.”

These stories are also confirmed by Captain Mwa, who recalled that his “quartermaster took the cake into the mess and gave plates and utensils to those of us who were not on duty. He then instructed us to take a slice out of the cake, pose for the photo, and then dump the cake into our litter bins or the sewers. He told us we would not be covered by insurance if this cake turned out to be spoiled.

“He also said it is imperative we not dump the cake centrally, because this would imply we dumped the entire cake; rather, we were to discard it as diffusely as possible, so that even if someone noticed discarded slices, they would reasonably infer only a small portion of the cake was thrown away, perhaps by those who did not like the cake.”

[Themiclesia]

Dec. 17, 2021

Exonerated ex-soldier dies after a life in prison

Kien-k’ang • Mr. John Krer, serving in the 1957 intervention in Maverica, was wrongfully convicted in 1958 of sexually assaulting Ms. Julia Schreiber and sentenced to life in prison. He was exonerated after a re-investigation in 2010, but not before spending 52 years behind bars. Mr. Krer is survived by his younger sister and brother. He was 81.

Mr. Krer, born in 1939, was part of the regiment of Horsemen of Ku-ngwyan (九原羈) when the unit was committed to Maverica in 1958, with the view of defending the northern provinces of the country against communist rebels advancing at pace towards the Themiclesian border. On Nov. 10, 1958, he was suddenly arrested by his regiment’s police and presented with a staggering charge—the rape of a Maverican woman alleged to have taken place on Oct. 15 that year—that had been approved by a jury of presentment.

From then, things progressed beyond Mr. Krer’s control. The testimonies presented by Ms. Schreiber provided that perpetrator responded to ‘John’, but crucially, there was a bandage on his arm. The prosecutor’s witnesses attested that Krer, being something of a poor shot, periodically suffered injuries to his arm and consistently applied bandages pre-emptively. Mr. Krer, who was unfortunately placed to patrol the district where the offence happened, could not produce alibis. His only corroborator, Mr. Heinrich Golya, a shop-keeper, collapsed under examination and admitted that he could not be certain that Mr. Krer, helmeted and uniformed, was indeed the soldier he saw in his store at the time of the offence.

The trial jury of the regimental court convicted him on Dec. 22, 1958, and that law at that time gave the judge, the Hon. Krum-pat Sings SL (d. 1971), no option other than a life sentence. In any event, any laxity in the law would not have likely mattered given the judge’s disposition, saying that he “would have considered recommending a remission in view his youth, except [Mr. Krer] was fully armed at the time of the most odious offence.”

The matter was referred to the Court for the Correction of Marshals’ Errors in Apr. 1959 and then the Court of Appeal in Feb. 1960, to no avail. A further appeal to the House of Lords was possible but beyond Mr. Krer’s means, a service not provided by public defenders until 1969.

In prison, Mr. Krer protested his innocence consistently and unwaveringly, and even the prison officials recounted that his “rectitude of personality does not suggest of such a previous, grave offence.”

It was not until the 2006 publication of My Days in the South, Capt. Mits, who was also in the Horsemen of Ku-ngwyan, did new information come to light about the case. What had appeared to be an open-and-shut case was, in reality, complicated by translation inaccuracies, investigative oversight, a grand jury flooded with cases, and a trial jury pressured to find a scapegoat.

There is no doubt that the offence against Ms. Schreiber occurred—the assessments of two physicians, one military and one civilian, were presented in open court, but the identification of Mr. Krer as the culprit, done largely at the insistence of Mr. Pim, the military prosecutor, has been found questionable by journalists of the modern age. They doubt whether Mr. Krer was indeed the only person who responded to the name ‘John’ or had a bandage on the arm in that area on the fateful night. To Mr. Pim, the answer may have been quite straightforward: Mr. Krer was the only person in the regiment—from 1947 to 1966—to have the first name ‘John’, and that clue guided him to a gross miscarriage of justice.

The case generated no little disquiet in Maverica, as the community was anxious to see the case resolved. Mr. Pim may have felt pressured by the hierarchy to procure a conviction to satisfy local interest in the case. The same pressure, however, would have been much greater on Mr. Golya, the sole witness supporting Mr. Krer’s innocence. He may also have found it impossible to defend the innocence of someone so close in description to the culprit, when a conviction was possible and demanded by both the prosecution and his community.

It is here that Capt. Mits’s account became crucial, as he recollects that ‘John’ was a codeword used by some Themiclesian soldiers for a situation of some sort, and, upon the Krers’ inquiry into the original depositions, it emerged that Ms. Schreiber likely implied that the bandage was applied on the left arm, not the right as Mr. Krer would have done to prevent an injury. This factor never made it onto the court record.

In 2010, the Home Office issued a full pardon to Mr. Krer, who retained a consultant to apply for a much-deserved compensation for spending 52 years behind bars, which not only robbed him of the majority of his life but also any opportunity to gain employable skills, which meant that at his advanced age, his family supported him financially. In 2012, he received $3.9 million in a civil settlement with the government.

After Mr. Krer’s conviction, the criminal laws were re-written in 1962 and then in 1989 to introduce sentencing discretion in cases of murder, sexual assault, and burglary, but they could not retroactively apply to Mr. Krer.

Of the individuals originally involved in the case, only two members of the jury survive, Messrs. Mye and Ba. The trial judge, appeals judges, prosecutors, etc. have not survived until the new information came to light. Krer retained a solicitor to seek charges of perjury against Messrs. Pim, Mye, and Ba, but these were refused by the courts on the grounds that too long had elapsed since the allegation and that Pim had died in 1974.

“I have nothing but sympathy for Schreiber, and certainly nothing against her,” he said to us in 2012. “I have something against the obvious incompetence of the prosecution and the weak-willed jury that succumbed to the pressure to close the damnable case. Pim should have been disbarred for conducting such a careless prosecution, and proscribed from the legal practice.”

The Ministry of Defence considered restoring to Mr. Krer his former rank and honours but ultimately decided against ordering Mr. Krer to accept them.

“In another case we would work to restore ranks and honours to the person from whom it was unjustly deprived, but here the Secretary of State [then Mr. Mak MP] believes it would be shameless to ask Mr. Krer to accept the badges of a system that has failed him so completely and caused in him a suffering so protracted and terrible. However, all his entitlements remain available to him, in the form before the wrongful conviction, if he desires them, and so will remain at his disposal. It is intended that the case should be an example of a gross failure and not be glossed over by a compensation of little value in comparison.”

His exoneration did not alter his disposition about the country that wrongfully imprisoned him for 52 years. After receiving his compensation, he retired to Anglia and took up an offer from a publisher to write about his case.

All this leaves the largest question unanswered: who sexually assaulted Ms. Schreiber? Having been acquainted to Mr. Krer’s exoneration, she said she was “confounded” at first but would materially support a re-investigation of the case if the identity of the culprit could be found, or at least approached.

She said that her 1958 affidavits were accurate to the best of her knowledge, but there was never an opportunity to identify personally her assailant. To subsequent investigations by journalists, her depositions underlie any effort to bring justice to her after all these years.

The infirmary of the Horsemen of Ku-ngwyan record a number of bandages applied—thanks to the bureaucracy that demanded to know where each bandage went—in the interested period. At least seven individuals were named by the investigation as having worn a bandage on the left arm, and two, according to patrol schedules, were in the area of the offence.

One is Mr. Tap Nyi, sergeant, and the other is Mr. Charles Tris, private. The book notes, however, both men died after the offence was committed against Ms. Schreiber, Mr. Tap in Maverica in 1960, and Mr. Tris in Menghe, in 1963.

The investigators stress that these facts do not imply or approximate a posthumous conviction, since bandages were available not only from the infirmary but also part of servicepeople’s first-aid kits.

“Our book points out possibilities but cannot stand in place of a judicial investigation. We earnestly do not believe that any of the individuals named should be held accountable on account of our work,” the publisher states in the preface.

Mr. Krer died in Anglia on Dec. 15, 2021.

[Themiclesia]

Dec. 21, 2021

Naval officer bonked after falling asleep in the House of Commons

Kien-k’ang • At the end of the year, it is typical for both houses of Parliament to hear reports of business conducted from various government departments over their respective jurisdictions.

This is a routine affair that seldom attracts much attention conducted with the eleven Barons of the Admiralty Department. Four of titular “Barons” are MPs, one is a Peer, and the remaining six are naval officers. The five who are not naval officers are members of current Ministry, led by Prime Minister La. The House heard statements from each, the naval officers delivering theirs at the bar of the House because they are not members thereof.

This year, however, it is Smat, a lieutenant, that robbed what little attention that the press would spare to the naval leadership.

The naval officers sat at the far end of the house, opposite the Speaker, with their assistants. One by one, introduced by the Secretary of State for Defence, they were called to the bar to describe their performance and main expenditures.

After the final baron, Rear Admiral Nril spoke, Admiral Kran stood up, bowed to the Speaker, back-pedaled to the door of the House, bowed again, and left. The other officers, in order of seniority, retraced Kran’s steps and bowed out, as they were. After a few moments of well-rehearsed actions, only the Smat remained on his seat—asleep. A few smiles surfaced on MPs faces, while the admirals peeked through the door and tried to wake—by the strength of their sightlines—their unresponsive colleague.

The Captain of the Gates asked the Speaker if the delegation from the Department of Labour should be ushered in anyway. The Speaker did not respond immediately, drawing comments from the MPs, most of whom were content to allow Smat to rest.

That did not persist for long as Mr. Nret made his way to the edge of the chamber with a roll of newspaper and bonked Smat square on the head. Smat sprang to his feet, bowed, and fled down the row of seats to the door, leaving his hat on the seat. Much of the chamber burst out in laughter.

Having learned of what happened in the corner of the House, the Speaker said that Mr. Nret was not allowed to strike another person in the House. Nret protested that Smat was not a Member, but the Speaker, with the assistance of a book, stood uncorrected and explained that Nret was not allowed to strike any person in the House, Member or not.

“The Honourable Gentleman must not strike any sleeping person, Member or not, in the precincts of the House,” the Speaker ruled, silencing the MP, “as not only does it violate the dignity of the House, but as I hear the Honourable Gentleman is himself frequently seen sleeping in his committees—reported to me by a number of other Honourable Members.”

[Themiclesia]

Dec. 31, 2021

Luxury apartments go on sale in Gwreng-ngars Park

Kien-k’ang • Nam-sngrar Development Co. has formally announced that The Acorn, its latest block of luxury apartments, is due to be completed and is now entering pre-sale.

The development is a 5-storey building, 190 feet on the side of the Gwreng-ngars Park and 120 feet on Plyat Road, forming roughly an “L” shape. The main lobby is on the lane away from the park.

There are two units per storey, about the same size or 7,000 square feet. The south-facing unit is to have six bedrooms, and the east-facing one, five. The first storey-units have private entrances from the grounds of the property, while other units are accessed through a shared stairwell on the building’s north.

The first-storey units are expected to be priced at $20 million, while those in the second, third, and fourth storeys could be priced around $15 million. The top storey may fetch an extra million with exclusive rights to rooftop gardens.

The building is located on the north side of Gwreng-ngars Park, which is a large nature park located within the Citadel. The park had been the site of the Gwreng-ngars Palace, usually used by the previous emperor’s widow. Though it once had extensive building work and elaborate gardens, the former have been reduced to ashes in the infamous 1876 arson, allegedly by the Camian embassy’s guards. The fire is said to have lasted four days, and the palace was never rebuilt, its grounds being opened as a 600-acre public park in 1879.

Empress Reng, who survived the fire, ordered the construction of the New Palace, which stood on the perimeter of her former palace. More modest dwellings were given to her friends and staff, who would have also lost their apartments to the fire. Slowly, the other traditional residences that surrounded the palace were converted to more modern dwellings that were becoming ordinary at that time in high society. Many were not retained by their original owners but subdivided and sold for profits.

However, the empress’s continued presence in this neighbourhood attracted the wealthy, and the neighbourhood surprisingly retained its former character as though the palace had not burned down; indeed, its conversion into a park seems only have created new appeal to buyers who would otherwise not prefer to live in the Citadel.

While the prices of the units are undeniably high, they are not considered out of line by those involved in real estate.

“Nearby units have been rising in price since the end of the 1970s,” Mr. Mark Si said. “The average three-bedroom or four-bedroom flat has costed about $3 – 4 million in the last ten years. The Acorn is on the first row of the park and in sight of the New Palace, and it is certainly built for a very exclusive clientele in an expensive part of the city.”

Internationally speaking, cities like Kien-k’ang can expect to have a few districts where housing is very expensive, and in that league The Acorn’s price-tag hardly raises an eyebrow.

What is unusual, however, is that luxury flats in Themiclesia typically have first floor units being the most expensive, and this is owing to the possibility of a private portal segregated from the remainder of the building’s residents. In The Acorn’s case, both first-storey units will have a staircase up to their units from the grounds directly, though the eight other units will have the (equally eyebrow-raising) luxury of three lifts amongst them.

“Due to restrictions in building height, there will not be a conventional penthouse in this development,” the developer said.

The first floor ceilings are 16 feet tall, 2 feet taller than in the rest of the building, with correspondingly taller windows. This extra vertical space makes room for more elaborate ceiling mouldings.

We are told that the “formal rooms” of the new apartments will be furnished with double or triple carpets for the ultimate in plushness.

[Themiclesia]

Mar. 13, 2022

Most useless government app EXPOSED

Kien-k’ang • It is revealed today that the government had spent $260,000 on an app and related hardware to count the number of empty parking spaces on the curb of the Marines’ headquarters and display it in real time remotely through a QuasarOS app.

According to an on-site tabulation by this newspaper, that amounts to a round $20,000 per space.

In the age of mass digitization which brings about the expectation of processing many daily activities through our mobile devices, some government agencies have sought to streamline those processes through a dedicated app. These range from the frequently useful, such as the Department of Transport’s timetable that not only shows timetables but automatically assemble multiple legs of a journey on public transit, to the infrequently useful like the National Electric Power bill app that most of us only open four times a year.

But what about an app whose userbase is limited to a single military unit, and even who would only use them for infrequent visits to one of their offices? That is exactly what Northwest Crystal Park Parking Space Availability Status Monitor is made for.

“It’s known this place is woefully short of parking space for private cars ever since we moved in in 1999,” says Major Ner to us. “The then head of technology Lieutenant-Colonel Dzrap drew up this app in 2010 so that we would know, before arriving, if the spaces in front of the HQ are open. The intention is, if we could see the spots were taken, then we could park somewhere else and make plans on that basis.”

“The parking tickets in this area are class 2b, so each violation is fined $660.”

It appears, however, that Lieutenant-Colonel Dzrap’s has miscalculated the problem before going to the UX drawing board, because the source of this vehicular consternation around the Marines’ HQ is not only the spaces’ availability, but their quantity.

“This 1880 building has no interior parking spaces of any kind, not even a rear courtyard that many buildings of this vintage have, so anyone who wants to commute here by private motor car needs to park on the curb. There aren’t many of those.”

“Additionally, these parking spaces belong to the city, which makes $18 an hour off them in daytime and $11 at night. My casual observations are wealthy parents would park here and watch their kids play on the dinosaurs in the park. There are those amongst us working here whose hourly wage stands at less than $18 an hour, and their position is unenviable if they commute by car,” explains Major Ner. “So not very many of us do.”

Major Ner’s concerns seem corroborated by the fact that the average home price in East District, where their headquarters are found, is $2,900,000 as of 2021.

Kien-k’ang’s administration has introduced a parking availability app in 2019 that surveys the entire city’s parking spaces through their electronic meters. Technically, this would make the Marines’ app completely redundant, but $4,000 is still spent a year on the app since 2019.

He also foresees the question why the app, made in 2010, required a username and password that only active Marines officers and ratings have, when most of them don’t commute by car anyway.

“Initially, it was planned that the app would be shared with all the forces, so that they could check on the lucky 13 parking spaces at the curb. But the Consolidated Army told us that we’d need a log in system that accounts for some 63 different user registers with different data structures, security certificates, parity bits, word types, baud rates, maintenance hours, etc., some living on reel-to-reel tape drives. The Marines decided, at that point, it was doing more of the Consolidated Army’s job, so the app was for us only.”

[Themiclesia]

Sept. 21, 2022

New fare gate system for the KRT finalized

Kien-k’ang • After years of discussion and stop-gap solutions, the Kien-k’ang Rapid Transit system’s steadfast refusal to update their payment system has succumbed to an unlikely nemesis—energy consumption—and finally ordered a replacement system from Macchia today.

“The current fare gates were developed by the KRT’s electrical engineering department in-house and are a technological marvel by the standards of 1970 – 71,” Mr. Ker told us. “But they are the equivalent of running over 600 little lightbulbs, and each is rated for at least 25 watts. If you realize that each station has at least a dozen gates, you can see how much energy is being used.”

You see, in order for the KRT to acquire the Gold Certification of Energy Efficiency which the Department of Energy has required all public transit authorities to acquire by 2015, it needs to make sure that the energy used by non-travelling components of the system—such as station ventilation, air conditioning, lighting, etc.—are not overly energy-hungry. The old fare gates, which have been in service since the 70s, fall afoul of that standard as their vacuum-tube circuitry and electrical-mechanical components around.

“We expect to reduce energy consumption at the fare gate by 90% through adopting the new system,” says the chairwoman of the KRT board, Ms. Ku said, “and thereby meet the government’s energy requirements.”

Frequent riders of the KRT may recall that the metal shells of the fare gates are quite warm to the touch, and that is owing to the many vacuum tubes blinking away inside. This antiquated technology serves exactly the same purpose as integrated circuits today, except each unit uses much more energy and emits heat as a by-product.

Some members of the station staff take to reclining on them in winter to keep warm. On the other hand, on hot summer days, the gates are also unwanted sources of heat in the station.

The new fare gates will be replace the familiar gates during night hours in the next two years, the KRT briefed this newspaper.

The new gates are also expected to improve the throughput of the stations, as they will permit travel both in and out of the station and no longer distinguish between exits and transfers. This means you no longer need to queue for the red gate if you need to make an out-of-station transfer at one of 65 transfer stations.

The Magneta card, the KRT’s fare payment system, will carry over seamlessly to the new gates, which will be fitted with a magnetic stripe reader that accepts all varieties of the Magneta card. However, the KRT’s long-term plan is to move to a contactless platform.

“You will save about 1 second each time by using the contactless system over the magnetic stripe system. This is not a lot of time taken in isolation, but if there is a five-person queue in front of you, you stand to save 5 seconds since each person in front saves at least 1 second.” Ms. Ku said. “The contactless system is just a slight bit faster, which is on account of the lack of moving parts. The old fare gates physically take your card in, reads, writes, and then pushes it out the other end; that is done mechanically and takes time.”

For the existing contactless payment methods, the new fare gate will integrate some of the payment terminals for compatible technologies.

The KRT is famed for its acceptance of almost every payment method that exists on Septentrion, whether they are credit cards, debit cards, or mobile phones. However, to offset costs, many of the payment terminals are provided by the owners of the payment system and therefore not integrated with other terminals. This has led to a cluster of terminals that adorn each fare gate gaining some international notoriety by 2020.

While it is not a common occurrence to scan one’s card on the wrong terminal, this has been a persistent complaint if a terminal is placed too far out of reach. It has also been noted that the consolidation of the terminals would be friendlier to visually-impaired travellers, who would not need to check which terminal to use by its label.

[Jedoria]

13 Kolodorian soldiers killed in latest clash against frost demons attempting to take over Septentrion

The Silver Rock

Septentrion's Finest News Source

SALHAR - A spokesperson for the Kolodorian State Bureau of Defense confirmed that thirteen Kolodorian soldiers were killed in recent fighting against the army of frost demons that are attempting to take over Septentrion.

Colonel Severīns Aspers confirmed to reports that recent clashes had occurred between the Kolodorian Ground Forces and the army of frost demons that has been attempting a hostile takeover of the Septentrion since time immemorial, approximately 230 kilometers north of the city of Tvesta. According to Aspers, the clashes involved units from the 1st and 2nd Companies of 1st Battalion, 4th Regiment, 20th Guards Infantry Division.

“The fighting occurred north of Zigmar Mountain in the Yakutskya District between elements of two infantry companies, which resulted in the deaths of 13 Kolodorian soldiers as well as the loss of two armored personnel carriers. Frost demon casualties are uncertain, but it has been confirmed at least two dozen frost demons were killed as well.”

The thirteen fatalities are the heaviest losses suffered by the Kolodorian People’s Defense Forces so far in the year, and the first loss of life suffered by Kolodoria since the death of nine soldiers earlier in the year during clashes with the frost demons in the Zieleme District.While Aspers did not speculate on the nature of the recent frost demon offensive, analysts have predicted the attack was in retaliation for airstrikes carried out by the Kolodorian air force in September.

For the past six months the 50th Guards Infantry Division has been carrying out offensive and defensive operations north of the Yakurganya River. According to Kolodorian officials, the 50th Guards have inflicted thousands of casualties among the frost demons, and have credited the divisions’ hard work with lifting the siege of Tvesta. Nevertheless, Salhar is predicting a difficult fight in the coming months as winter approaches.

“The winter obviously gives the frost demons more strength, so we can expect a renewed offensive in the coming months.” Deputy Commander of the 50th Guards Infantry Division, Brigadier General Bernards Lielmanis told reporters. “We have been trying to deny them inroads into the District in order to prevent any gains south of the Yankurganya.”

Kolodoria began its counter-offensive in the summer to take advantage of the seasonal weakness of the frost demons, which drove back the frost demons across the entirety of the northern districts. Salhar is hoping to avoid a repeat of last year, when the frost demons were able to launch raids and incursions as far south as the Kapizeme District.

Kolodoria took the initiative by deploying a total of 30,000 troops to the Yakutskya District, in addition to 20,000 troops in the Zieleme District, 10,000 in the Salakris District, and 15,000 in the Rietukrast District. It is hoped by Salhar that the forward planning will prevent any major gains by the frost demons for the upcoming fighting. Nevertheless, the most recent clashes have shown that the frost demons do not intend for the winter to be a quiet one.

The losses come a month after a Kolodorian tank and its crew was lost in the Rietukrast District, which Kolodoria responded to with rocket barrages against frost demon positions north of the Alija River. The frost demons have shown little sign of relenting in their attacks in spite of losses suffered throughout the summer, and reports of frost demon sightings are up across all the northern districts.

For the Kolodorian soldiers on the ground, life on the front line is difficult, but many express confidence of styming future frost demon attacks. Leons Krēsliņš, a Sergeant in the 24th Mechanized Infantry Division in the Zieleme District, said he was “eager to send the frost demons back the ice caves that spawned them”.

“It’s tough, and it’s cold, but it has to be done.” Krēsliņš said. “But we spent the last several months reducing several ice fortresses to ruin, and by now most of the new recruits are good at telling which snowmen are real and which ones are frost demons in disguise. I think we’re ready for them this winter.”

The 24th Mechanized is expected to spend the winter fighting in and around Mount Zele, a major target for the frost demons due to its strategic location in the Zieleme District. Protecting the regional capital of Chevartovsk is also a major priority, as it will in all likelihood become the staging ground for Kolodoria’s summer offensive in 2023.

Colonel Aspers concluded the statement by stating that while the frost demon threat to take over Septentrion and usher in a new ice age will never fully recede, the valiant effort of the Kolodorian military will keep them at bay.

In other news:
-Top scientists dismiss bottom scientists
-Activist lights self on fire to bring attention to string of arson attacks
-Local mixologist is more open about his parent’s poly-relationship that necessary.

[Themiclesia]

Nov. 15, 2022

The Disappearance of the “Middle Class” in Themiclesia

Kien-k’ang • The publication of the results of the 2022 census in Themiclesia has revealed that the number of people in Kien-k’ang, the capital city, identified as “middle class” has dropped to zero.

Let us first take a detour to understand the history of the census in Themiclesia. Historians think the census appeared as an ad hoc measure in the collection of taxes, initially for an emergencies like invasions and later as a regular way for the government to take in revenues. Taxes could be flat, like the capitation tax, or based on metrics like land owned; in this case, the census would need to take into account how much property people owned to calculate how much they should pay.

But because registries were relevant to distinct populations, there were also multiple kinds of census in place. For example, the labour service census was done on all able-bodied adolescents and adults, regardless of status, while the baronage census was done—as its name suggests—on the sovereign’s barons only.

The stepping stone to the first modern census could be found in the Great Enumeration of 1844, when elections to the House of Commons was opened to what was called the “public suffrage”; prior to the 1844 election, the ability to vote for an MP was conferred primarily by inheritance. That year, all men who owned a certain measure of land acquired the right to vote, and a census was necessary to find out where they lived.

In 1857, the newly-established Kien-k’ang Council took the first modern census that did not have a particular revenue in mind for its institution. The City Council had simply wanted to find out how many people there were in the city and desired to tailor its policies and revenues around this information, rather work out the amount of population needed to be rounded up based on the revenues needed.

That census suggested that there were 325,129 people living in the city’s 78,220 registered houses scattered across its 75 square kilometers of land.

In that census responders were required to answer a visiting official what kind of social position the household had, and possible answers were:

1. Imperial princes and ducal houses
2. Imperial and ducal baronage and baronetage
3. Gentlemen of dignity and other honours and qualities
4. Members of spiritual orders and accredited bodies
5. Agents
6. Day labourers
7. Servants
8. Idle men
Members of the nobility require little note. #4 was for bishops, priests, monks, and so forth, as well as individuals who work for religious institutions exclusively, such as ritualistic musicians, even if they were not formally part of the religious order. This also included the staff and student body of universities, which were accredited, self-governing bodies.

#5 were individuals like solicitors, bankers, accounts, business, and estate managers employed to work; the distinction from #6, day labourers, was that an agent must have some latitude to act in the interest of their property or their personal behalf in some capacity. #7 included people like butlers, gardeners, cleaners, etc., who had a strong attachment to their employer but did not operate on their behalf; their distinction from #6, day labourers, was that the latter had more liberty generally to leave employment.

Of particular interest here is #3, gentlemen of dignity and other honours and qualities. By “honour”, a high office held from the Emperor is meant, such as a judge; if a person is a close relative of such a person, they shared this distinction and could claim to be #3. Minor royals and nobles who had no independent titles were considered “gentlemen of dignity”.

In practice, #3 was firmly associated with a group of families consistently involved in senior administrative capacities. By the middle of the 1800s, the wealthy could often lay claim to #3 as well, as involvement in politics as a member of parliament or city councillor led to #3.

Another factor that unites #3 is that they did not work for income from an employer (alas, the Emperor did not count as an employer—salaries from public office were considered to be gifts and were thus not taxable as salaries). Instead, they usually relied on a large bank of wealth that grew itself, whether by rental income or investments, to support both their lifestyle and part of the official expenses they were expected to cover by themselves.

Senior diplomats, who numbered in the hundreds, who lived in Kien-k’ang were considered to be #3 by way of their dignity.

Wealthy men often claimed that even if they never held a public office in their lives, they were “fit” for public service (usually being well-educated or savvy in one field or another) and therefore could claim to be gentlemen of other qualities, which here seems to be held to mean “qualifications” or “abilities”.

In 1887, the city simplified census classifications, as rigid descriptions such as these required too much mental gymnastics to shoehorn a changing society into. The dimension of salary-dependence was emphasized beyond other factors, so agents, day labourers, and servants were rolled into “workers”, while “gentlemen of dignity and other honours and qualities” and “members of spiritual orders and accredited bodies” were rolled into “gentlemen”.

However, the question remained if the owners of small food stalls, who did not take a salary, were to be considered “gentlemen”. By a strict interpretation of the word “worker”, they could not be considered as such, but in practice they usually reported themselves as workers as the difference from stereotypical “gentlemen” was too great. If they had reported themselves as gentlemen, it is possible that the census office would have summoned them for questions about their living conditions, which would be a hassle. However, the point is that there was a degree of flexibility in some situations whether one could be considered a worker or a gentleman, one which would become important later.

In 1887, Kien-k’ang was the home of 22,730 gentlemen, who increasingly adopted the term “middle class” to describe themselves, as it seemed less pretentious than the term “gentleman”, which certainly had a more-than-noticeable flair of birthright attached to it.

The census adopted this terminology in 1897 of “middle class” and “working class”. The term “working class”, unlike “worker”, did not literally require a person to work for a living and thus resolved the problem of the 1887 census of small stall owners having to describe themselves as “workers”. Interestingly, the middle class doubled in size between 1887 and 1897, there being about 40,000 middle class people in Kien-k’ang, out of a total population of 1.77 million.

Kien-k’ang’s population continued to boom through the early 20th century and reached 4 million people in 1930, the census showing that the “middle class” usually accounted for 2 – 2.5% of the adult population. However, in contrast with the fairly nebulous definition of what a “middle class” person was, the nature of the “working class” was set forth clearly—if you worked for a salary from anyone except the Crown, you were to report yourself as working class.

Thus, no matter how large the salary was, a person taking a salary would always fall into the working class, while a business owner at least theoretically had a choice between the middle and working class labels.

Over time, however, it became less fashionable considerably to call oneself “middle class” since it implied a person did not work for a living, though the government never formally imposed any cost or restriction on the application of the census description. Owing further to what was called the second social revolution of the 1960s, the idea that society should be stratified into distinct classes based on their lifestyles became a somewhat wryly-ridiculed anachronism, as lifestyles were becoming more variegated than before.

There were plenty of aristocratic households that lived without large staffs (or even a single staff member in the famous case of the Baron of Lwan, who advocated for simple living) or multiple residences, and the growth of salaries for professionals in the years prior to the PSW and after made options for the gentry open to a larger number of people who, by the definition of the census, must answer to the label of “working class”. If even aristocrats themselves were entering the professional employment (as something other than lawyers, accountants, and judges etc.), then it seems without much merit to maintain them as mutually-exclusive groupings.

The number of respondents who considered themselves “middle class” fell from around 1960 onwards, and now it is a description that officially nobody in Kien-k’ang uses.

[Themiclesia]

Dec. 15, 2022

Housing International Admits Gross Error in Kien-k’ang Property Price to Income Ratio

Kien-k’ang • Housing International has admitted that it incorrectly applied the income figures of Kien-k’ang to the area of Great Kien-k’ang and arrived at the (incorrect) conclusion that it would take 42 years of an average income to purchase the average property in Kien-k’ang.

The correction says the actual figure is 5.5 years.

The mistake apparently arose when the new editor of the magazine thought the term “Great Kien-k’ang” referred to the Metropolitan City of Kien-k’ang, whereas in reality the former encompassed the capital city’s medieval territories of only 32.1 sqkm., and the latter covers a much larger area of 9,024 sqkm. and is the result of successive annexations of surrounding areas in 1857, 1922, 1948, 1952, and most recently in 1970.

The medieval city, which arose around the palace complex and the ancient city to the southeast, has gone through two major waves of gentrification, first during the Industrial Revolution and then after the Pan-Septentrion War, which had the combined effect of displacing many of its less affluent residents. As a result, properties here have appreciated greatly, and the average price of a 2-room flat soared past $1 million in 1990 and rests at $3.5 million as of 2020. Prices of comparable properties in particularly desirable areas are easily double or triple this figure.

While the wages earned by residents of Great Kien-k’ang are only marginally higher than Kien-k’ang as a whole, they have tend to have more income from capital gains than their peers living elsewhere, and real estate is usually amongst their portfolio of investments. Looking even deeper, wages earned by many residents of Great Kien-k’ang is much higher than Kien-k’ang, but the average wage figure is offset by those who only take nominal salaries (like corporate directors) but earn their income chiefly through equity and other capital gains.

Thus, home prices in Great Kien-k’ang are about 13 years against the average income but about 29 years against average wage. This observation explains in part why it proves very challenging for people who do not live here to move in.

[Themiclesia]

Oct. 15, 2023

Murderer pardoned after 40 years in prison

Kien-k’ang • Commentators have noted that Mr. Kur Nim has been pardoned today of the life sentence handed down as a result of his murder conviction in 1982. Nim is 64 this year.

A spokesperson for the Exchequer Division of Juridical Affairs told us that Nim has spent the last 40 years behind bars and has not caused a single trouble in those years, and while he would have been eligible for parole since 1994, he has not actively applied for it. In view of this, successive wardens at the correctional facility has recommended him for pardon, speaking of the “clear evidence of contrition and the impossibility for a person in his condition to be placed in a similar situation again.”

The government did not respond to this recommendation, which was first lodged in 2005, until now, having “received information that individuals most directly implicated by the crime are passed away.”

In 1979, amidst political turmoil, Themiclesia participated in an expeditionary campaign to Kolodoria along with forces from various other states, such as Dayashina and Banbha. Nim held the rank of lieutenant in the 522nd Mobility Regiment and was in the vicinity of a town on the Luminovia Canal, where apparently a Kolodorian citizen pelted a stone at him.

Nim, who was in the company of other members of the said Regiment, removed his backpack, took out a pistol, and shot the person. While no action was immediately taken, news of this homicide soon reached the expedition’s headquarters, and a warrant for his arrest was issued with the authority of the Solicitor-general.

Investigators from that authority went out to Kolodoria to interview regimental troops who witnessed the homicide that day, and the investigation then led to an indictment filed at the Central Criminal Court for the crime of murder.

Nim retained an attorney who unsuccessfully argued that he acted from a motive of self-defence, as the stone-thrower was, on all accounts, otherwise unarmed. The fact that none of the other regimental troops there that day drew their weapons or ran away as a consequence was held by the court to indicate Nim could not have reasonably feared for his life. That line of thinking likely motivated the jury impanelled to give the guilty verdict.

Under contemporary laws, the judge had the option of giving a sentence for life or between 8 and 24 years. While the judge was more inclined towards a shorter sentence, the Crown attorney reminded the bench that committing a crime by means of public property and in public service are typical causes of aggravation, and Nim fell into both categories very clearly.

The judge therefore told him that he is to be kept behind bars for the rest of his natural life. Television reporting indicated that the judge may have been somewhat reluctant to hand down a life sentence, but this would have been an easier sentence to give in view of aggravating factors. What is clear, however, is that the judge felt he did not thoroughly understand the reason Nim committed the crime or why he did not more vigorously defend himself before the court.

As a life sentence was involved, the law required that a procedural appeal be launched on his behalf by the Central Criminal Court, and sentence was confirmed in the Imperial Court of Appeal in 1982. Nim was not present for this final hearing, but upon an interview given in prison he revealed that he could only feel a great deal of sorrow for what he had done that day.

“As a very religious person, I’m thoroughly frightened and left confounded by myself. I can only dedicate myself to praying for his soul. I have nothing more to say.” He said in an exclusive interview in 1983. “I wanted to throw something back, but the only thing that came out of the backpack was the pistol.”

The matter was not widely reported in the press—more lurid and shocking stories were widely available in that conflict, and the incident though outraging the local community had failed to make the round in Themiclesian news.

“Religious people are no less capable of committing crimes than those who are not,” the Archbishop of Rak said of an unrelated matter in 1990. “That is an unfortunate fact. But it is for the sinners and the imperfections in life that religions exist, and every one of them who desires consolation and absolution should come forth.”

Nim was released from prison early in the morning of October 5th to the embrace of his family, who spoke to this newspaper while waiting for his release. According to them, Nim’s letters were always filled with bitter regret over his actions that day, indeed going so far as to blame the government over the provision of a pistol when he never had any use for it.

“I wish I could say I was John Krer [the soldier falsely convicted of rape in 1959, served 52 years in prison before exoneration], but I am not. I’ve been a better treated yet less deserving person, I think.” He said to us before walking into a taxicab.

[Themiclesia]

Dec. 7, 2023

Kien-k'ang, wide roads, and tired urbanists

Kien-k’ang • “70 years ago,” Mr. Kam pointed to the car that rammed into his storefront, “my father wrote a letter to the city government when an accident of this kind happened in 1953.”

He went on to recount people have driven into his cozy book store in 1959, 1977, 1980, and again in 1992, or one of the quaint, time-honoured establishments that border his. In 1960, the government erected a few bollards in front of his shop, but they have not been able to stop every incursion.

Mr. Kam is hardly alone in experiences that brings traffic closer that is suitable for safety. But the jury is still out, as far as the city’s denizens are concerned, as to who is responsible.

The city has always pointed its corporate, accusatory fingers to “drivers from out-of-town” as the source of most of its traffic accidents. Dr. Bannett confirms that the data do bear out such a story—alien drivers do indeed crash more often than natives of the city by a considerable margin—ever since such data were collected from 1923. Amongst the supporters of this line of thinking are many of the city’s public figures, holding that those from out of town have an obligation to drive according to the city’s habits, whatever they are.

This argument is confronted with an equally powerful and venerable objection: the city has bad roads and has refused to redesign them for decades. This voice issues forth from the lungs of several Ministers of Transport in the central government and has implored the city to convert more of its medieval alleys into roads suitable for vehicular traffic, to the undaunted reply that such alleys are more passable than many think, given a degree of care.

Even the city’s boulevards of global renown, a roundtable twelve of them in total, are wide in name only—most of the girth consisting of gardening and landscaping wild, exotic, and majestic. While Kien-k’ang does not have the world’s widest road, it does have the widest four-lane road, at 72.4 m wide and the widest six-lane at 92.4 m.

Such roads came about after a fashion to live in the Superior Woods developed amongst the nouveau riche; once that area filled, its wooded ambiance was thoughtfully recreated by a trifecta of city officials, speculators, and those hoping to climb the social ladder upon less desirable areas. An inconspicuous street would be dramatically widened or two parallel ones combined, with the area left landscaped. The city was especially supportive of such transformation under the presidency of Lord Ba-tum, who saw Kien-k’ang as the Paris of the Orient and found wide boulevards a must.

The downside that haunts the motoring age is that streets widened like this would often only have portions, usually two to three street corners, widened; adjoining the developed area, the street shrank back to its natural, medieval width. If the adjoining sections were also developed, the size of the street would likely be different, and even the alignment at the interface could migrate away. The city only cared that the thoroughfare remained passable—sorry no gated communities, even for the nouveaux riches.

Since at least 1931, motorists have called upon the city to make more effective use of the great width of some of its boulevards—not all of them—for improved traffic, amongst other requests like straightening alleys to permit faster traffic and sealing road surfaces. Some of these requests were honoured by the city, but many were not. Those regarding the widest roads—affectionately called the ‘best roads’ locally—were not. The city had a hard line on the position that it was incumbent on drivers to choose the passable thoroughfares and drive safely according to local habits, rather than on the city to redraw roads to suit drivers.

Obviously, to change an environment that the wealthy have crafted expressly as emblems of their attainment was difficult for the city. For many decades, the debate has been formulated as one between the modernist, pragmatic motorist and the classicist, aestheticist locality.

In the shadow of modern urbanism, Kien-k’ang’s gardened roads have provided a global battleground for enthusiasts and officials alike.

“In a world of road hierarchies and levels of access, Kien-k’ang seems to be throwing every rule that scientific urban planners have laid down to the wind,” Dr. Bannett said. “You have an enormous variety of road conditions that would not be possible without the city’s historical experience. You feel this when you see an intersection that’s so far off square because one street is so wide and another is so narrow. You feel like the city’s designers are making fun of traffic engineers and urban planners.”

“I think no major city in the world has yielded so little to and defended so much from the motor vehicle,” said Martin Masseran. “When we think of streets elsewhere the number of vehicular lanes and horrid traffic congestion and fumes multiply with the width, and that is the result of determining street width by traffic flow—specifically car flow. But this city does something cute: why not make a street wide even if there’s no traffic and fill it with trees? Why not make it wide because it looks good? This is spatial art as lost elsewhere to the depredations of urban planning.”

But Samantha Kish is not as taken away by the kaleidoscope of the city.

“What we seen in other countries is a drive—pun intended—towards a consistent travelling experience that creates as much safety for all road users as possible. That out-of-town travellers are disproportionately implicated in accidents merely shows how hostile the city is towards standard traffic patterns and how little it has done to make its roads safe.

“The away these giant roads and absurd intersections are designed makes me think the city wants to make fun of everyone by trapping them in complexity and paralysis, save experienced drivers of 30 years.”

[Qei-pen]

(Image)

Dec. 7, 2023

Kien-k'ang, wide roads, and tired urbanists

Kien-k’ang • “70 years ago,” Mr. Kam pointed to the car that rammed into his storefront, “my father wrote a letter to the city government when an accident of this kind happened in 1953.”

He went on to recount people have driven into his cozy book store in 1959, 1977, 1980, and again in 1992, or one of the quaint, time-honoured establishments that border his. In 1960, the government erected a few bollards in front of his shop, but they have not been able to stop every incursion.

Mr. Kam is hardly alone in experiences that brings traffic closer that is suitable for safety. But the jury is still out, as far as the city’s denizens are concerned, as to who is responsible.

The city has always pointed its corporate, accusatory fingers to “drivers from out-of-town” as the source of most of its traffic accidents. Dr. Bannett confirms that the data do bear out such a story—alien drivers do indeed crash more often than natives of the city by a considerable margin—ever since such data were collected from 1923. Amongst the supporters of this line of thinking are many of the city’s public figures, holding that those from out of town have an obligation to drive according to the city’s habits, whatever they are.

This argument is confronted with an equally powerful and venerable objection: the city has bad roads and has refused to redesign them for decades. This voice issues forth from the lungs of several Ministers of Transport in the central government and has implored the city to convert more of its medieval alleys into roads suitable for vehicular traffic, to the undaunted reply that such alleys are more passable than many think, given a degree of care.

Even the city’s boulevards of global renown, a roundtable twelve of them in total, are wide in name only—most of the girth consisting of gardening and landscaping wild, exotic, and majestic. While Kien-k’ang does not have the world’s widest road, it does have the widest four-lane road, at 72.4 m wide and the widest six-lane at 92.4 m.

Such roads came about after a fashion to live in the Superior Woods developed amongst the nouveau riche; once that area filled, its wooded ambiance was thoughtfully recreated by a trifecta of city officials, speculators, and those hoping to climb the social ladder upon less desirable areas. An inconspicuous street would be dramatically widened or two parallel ones combined, with the area left landscaped. The city was especially supportive of such transformation under the presidency of Lord Ba-tum, who saw Kien-k’ang as the Paris of the Orient and found wide boulevards a must.

The downside that haunts the motoring age is that streets widened like this would often only have portions, usually two to three street corners, widened; adjoining the developed area, the street shrank back to its natural, medieval width. If the adjoining sections were also developed, the size of the street would likely be different, and even the alignment at the interface could migrate away. The city only cared that the thoroughfare remained passable—sorry no gated communities, even for the nouveaux riches.

Since at least 1931, motorists have called upon the city to make more effective use of the great width of some of its boulevards—not all of them—for improved traffic, amongst other requests like straightening alleys to permit faster traffic and sealing road surfaces. Some of these requests were honoured by the city, but many were not. Those regarding the widest roads—affectionately called the ‘best roads’ locally—were not. The city had a hard line on the position that it was incumbent on drivers to choose the passable thoroughfares and drive safely according to local habits, rather than on the city to redraw roads to suit drivers.

Obviously, to change an environment that the wealthy have crafted expressly as emblems of their attainment was difficult for the city. For many decades, the debate has been formulated as one between the modernist, pragmatic motorist and the classicist, aestheticist locality.

In the shadow of modern urbanism, Kien-k’ang’s gardened roads have provided a global battleground for enthusiasts and officials alike.

“In a world of road hierarchies and levels of access, Kien-k’ang seems to be throwing every rule that scientific urban planners have laid down to the wind,” Dr. Bannett said. “You have an enormous variety of road conditions that would not be possible without the city’s historical experience. You feel this when you see an intersection that’s so far off square because one street is so wide and another is so narrow. You feel like the city’s designers are making fun of traffic engineers and urban planners.”

“I think no major city in the world has yielded so little to and defended so much from the motor vehicle,” said Martin Masseran. “When we think of streets elsewhere the number of vehicular lanes and horrid traffic congestion and fumes multiply with the width, and that is the result of determining street width by traffic flow—specifically car flow. But this city does something cute: why not make a street wide even if there’s no traffic and fill it with trees? Why not make it wide because it looks good? This is spatial art as lost elsewhere to the depredations of urban planning.”

But Samantha Kish is not as taken away by the kaleidoscope of the city.

“What we seen in other countries is a drive—pun intended—towards a consistent travelling experience that creates as much safety for all road users as possible. That out-of-town travellers are disproportionately implicated in accidents merely shows how hostile the city is towards standard traffic patterns and how little it has done to make its roads safe.

“The away these giant roads and absurd intersections are designed makes me think the city wants to make fun of everyone by trapping them in complexity and paralysis, save experienced drivers of 30 years.”