We the People.
Isn’t that how some famous document begins? Governments are for the people. And by the people. And therefore, one supposes, with the people.
Yet so many of the People seem to think that governments are full of whiny cronies who would just as soon as sell their children for a new pocket lining.
In these circumstances, we should all stand, salute and salivate before Gerrit Six.
Gerrit Six is not a new grunge band from Bloomington, Indiana. Though soon it probably will be.
Gerrit Six is a teacher from Brussels. He got so fed up with watching his fellow countrymen, his stale mates, create such a nothing of his homeland, that he decided to take action.
No, he did not wrap a few pounds of plastic explosive around his belly and stand in front of a bar. Though the thought might well have crossed his mind.
Instead the valiant Mr. Six put his country up for sale on eBay.
Belgium is made up of two types of white man- the Flemish, or potless Dutchmen, and the Walloons, or sexless Frenchmen.
This might go some way to explaining why Belgium is famous for very little indeed.
Some might revere Belgian beer, perhaps. Others might worship the venerable Plastic Bertrand, who sang the inimitable post-punk anthem “Ca Plane Pour Moi” before disappearing into a Walloonian ether.
Belgium is, in essence, useless.
If the US cannot be bothered to invade it, then quite clearly it should be sold. Perhaps the UN could arrange a Sunni/Walloon swap deal to see whether the Flemish might cope better with the Sunnis, leaving the Walloons to master their inner Shiite.
But, after the attempted Jewish evisceration of Kazakhstan (you think Sacha Baron Cohen was joking?), surely we can agree that there are far too many countries in the world. Their number ought to be reduced and their inhabitants ought, like the great Monsieur Six, put their nations up for sale.
What are we bid for Wales, for example, a nation of such clinical depression that even the sheep are on Prozac?
What is the point of Norway? Surely, we could lump together Denmark, Norway, Iceland, Sweden and Greenland to make one huge and dark country. We could call it Bjorkland.
Bulgaria, Rumania, Croatia, Austria, Serbia, Slovenia, Slovakia, Russia, Albania, India. Surely, these are all mere states of the great country of Ia. Lump ’em all together for the Proletariat. Or, as it will now be known, Proletaria. They could all send their prisoners not to Guantanamo but to the state of Austral.
England, Poland, Scotland, New Zealand. These could all be lumped together as, oh, I don’t know, Old Drunkland.
America, Colombia, Venezuela, Argentina, Guyana, Botswana could all be simply The Enda.
Hungary and Germany could be conjoined under the new name Why.
And then the rest could be sold off to the highest bidding conglomerate. What am I bid for Peru? And Liechstenstein? Not much, probably.
Most countries really do have ideas far, far beyond their central station.
For their grandeur and alleged individuality they rely on dull, stripey flags, a few folkloric ditties and jigs and mendacious histories concocted by politicans and their girlfriends after a heavy night of Schnapps.
Let us start again. Just as the internet is supposedly changing the very fabric of human behavior, so we need to bring people together in entirely new and rich ways.
Think of this as Nationhood 2.0.
Gerrit Six already knows this. His asking price for Belgium was a mere one euro. And this was with the Royal Family thrown in for free. The highest bid before the luddites at eBay abdicated their responsiblities and stopped the bidding was 14 million euros.
It is understood that this was a joint bid from Belize and Belarus, their goal being to turn their new conglomerate into Eastern Bel, Northen Bel and Southwestern Bel.