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Author Topic: Meritocracy Reborn  (Read 3039 times)

Merit: 6
Posts: 156

« on: April 23, 2008, 12:20:24 AM »

Meritocracy Reborn
A Story by Raheem Raza, Senator from Shasarazade

This time a month ago, the storied halls of the Meritocratic Senate sat silent and unused. I stood inside the Library of the Meritocracy. Where once the voices of the greats of NationStates echoed under lofty domes, then silence reigned over rubble and ruin. Among these ruins I walked, reader—from the cracked marble floor I took what was once a bust of a Consul I could no longer recognize. Whether he had known prominence before my time, or whether his likeness was lost in the bust’s fracture, I do not know. I held the piece aloft, examining it; through a hole in the domed ceiling a beam of light fell upon that cracked face. I replaced the piece carefully on the floor.

It, and all this place around me, would soon be restored.

Workers from across Meriterra greeted me outside the Library. There were hundreds, thousands of them, reader, toiling day and night to clear the streets of rubble, to restore the shattered embassies, to reconstruct this entire Meritocratic Administration District down to the last carved garland on the last block of marble. Never in all my years had I seen so many people working together so diligently for a common goal. I was awed—but not surprised: this was, after all, the Meritocracy. This place was the embodiment of an ideal dear to the hearts of all. How could I be surprised to see it shine again? How could I think anything, except “but of course?”

All of this was thanks to a few former Senators, the former Senator from Puppet States not least among them. It was Prime Minister Beam from that nation who began this great effort, and for that he will never be forgotten.

I walked the main street leading down the island from the Senate Building, gazing at the old embassies now under reconstruction. The sounds of hammers and trucks, of voices and activity, came lilting from each of these scarred buildings. It was like music to me, the sound of progress, of rebirth.

On my walk I came upon the ancient embassy of Corintur. Somehow, the Corinturans had hidden a nuclear device in there, and detonated it when Camozayo invaded the MAD. I turned to face it—from here, all that was the Senate of the Meritocracy was laid to waste. And yet, even the Corinturan embassy was being rebuilt. Everything was to be as it was, and more—past transgressions would be forgiven and forgotten—it was a rebirth, a new beginning, a new age of unity and cooperation, One Senate, One Meritocracy, where action, not bureaucracy, reigned, where the merited stood together in equality, united in dedication to the highest ideals of greatness, a Senate to equal, to surpass, the storied Senate of our past.

Reader, Meritocrats of old were known to be dour, but I admit to you this and you may take from it what you will: this Senator stood in the middle of that busy street and grinned from ear to ear.

You may note my use of the term Senator. Yes, our efforts were successful. There is a Senate of the Meritocracy again and I am a Senator there. I stood laughing in the streets of the MAD a month ago—we rebuilt this island, we held a summit, a convention, we drafted our constitution, we elected our first new Consul—all done within a month. Awing, perhaps, but again it is no surprise to this Senator.

Yesterday, on the first day of the Pact Senate, I walked again down the streets of the MAD. I looked upon the restored embassies shining in the sun, the great Library towering a short stroll down the way. Everywhere, men and women dressed in fine clothing, going here and there between the buildings, busy as it ever was. I spotted a few fellow Senators on my right. They were smiling, and I waved to them and crossed the street to join them. Together, we proceeded down the way, until we saw the Senate Hall looming in the distance.

And we saw it, then—upon that historic building, on the highest dome, there stood a lone flagstaff, and my fellows and I caught sight just as they were raising a familiar banner. I shielded my eyes against the sun and peered across the distance at the purple and cream flag with the star in its center, waving in the wind as it always had, standing tall over our island, challenging the sun, shining like a beacon to all those across all the realms, calling to them across the seas and across mountains, beckoning across time and space—it was a call to arms and a call to return. It spoke across all distances to all those of merit: “the Great Experiment lives on—you of merit, this is your home!”

Again this Senator smiled.

« Last Edit: April 23, 2008, 09:08:39 AM by Shasarazade » Logged

Shasarazade—Slices like a #@$% hammer!
Consul of the Meritocracy
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