By Horace P. Dunwoody, Developer and Industrialist
My good citizens,
We all know our country’s proud history of attempting to build Utopian societies in exclusive, or as some would say, dangerous and ridiculous, locations. We all know that each of the twenty-two previous attempts to do so have failed, and failed horribly. But that is no reason not to make a twenty-third attempt! And I have every faith that this time, we shall succeed!
It will certainly not be easy. We can recall the failure of the gleaming, floating city of Columbia, built in the clouds in the early 20th Century, and how it quickly and shockingly came to ruin. I need not go into the details: we all remember them clearly.
We also remember Andrew Ryan’s bold dream for Rapture in the 1940′s, his proud city built beneath the sea, and how, despite an entirely logical plan involving the torture of little girls and the sale of affordable proximity mines, it still somehow fell into chaos.
We remember another attempt at Utopia in the 1950′s, with the great city of Metro-Hyperion, which was suspended from a cliff by a mighty rope, and how it swung and spun and turned to-and-fro so beautifully in the gusty winds, and how citizens eventually became tired of constantly falling over and vomiting on themselves. And so, it was abandoned.
And Isla De Lunar, built on the moon by hundreds of the patriotic monkeys from the early days of our space program, though sadly, when the time came for the city to be populated by our human astronauts, no amount of scrubbing would get that disgusting monkey smell out of the walls.
And of course, there was the massive city of Oakstone, built of gleaming, solid marble in the branches of a mighty oak tree, which, as it turns out, was not remotely mighty enough to support the weight of a city built of gleaming, solid marble. Not even close. Hoo boy, no.
And always shall we remember Evermoss! The inspiring Utopia of Evermoss, built entirely on a patch of peat moss. It succeeded brilliantly from the start and remains intact, though as the patch of moss is only eleven inches wide, the city is far too small for anyone besides a few insects and one hungry bird to enter.
Following those failures came the city of Centuria, a metropolis built half-underground and half in ice, producing the blissful Utopia we all had dreamed of, or at least that one of us had dreamed of, that one being architect Robert Whipple, who dreamed of constantly being very, very cold and very, very dirty. He lives there still. Please stop by and see him. He is quite lonely and needs groceries.
So many, many triumphs! Followed immediately by so many, many failures. The exact same number of each, in fact.
There were others, of course, all built with the inspiring ideals of Utopia we continue to strive for. The city of New Magma, built inside an active volcano. The city of Many Points, built on a pile of needles. The upside-down city of Falling Falls. Oakland, California. Failures, all.
But we must not dwell on our previous, repeated failures! We must forge ahead and build anew! While the first twenty-two attempts at building Utopian cities resulted in misery, destruction, human-rights violations, billions of lost dollars, countless deaths, and the overpowering stench of monkey filth, I am certain our twenty-third will succeed!
We merely need to find the proper location. And with your courage, we will!