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Smoke In the Distance: What Does it Mean?
Jackson, 1675 BC : In recent years, citizens of Legoland have noticed a strange smell in the air. Rather than the normal odors of roasting meats and pulverized rock that so often permeate the air, the distinct smell of thick, acrid smoke has filled the streets.
"I first noticed in a little while back," says local bricklayer Hans Grout, "but as every day passes, it just keeps getting worse." After the initial, lighter smell first drifted into town, soon came grayish clouds of soot and an even more intense aroma.
"It's getting to the point that I long to be able to smell the undergarments again," comments washerwoman Ida Angle, "and I never thought I'd be hearing myself say that!"
The source of this mysterious olfactory sensation remains a mystery, but area wisemen have been looking into the problem.
"At the moment, we are convinced that beyond the great sea, somewhere, somehow, a good deal of something is being set fire, and possibly burning to the ground. And though I can't be sure exactly what it is, my well-trained nostrils are telling me that it smells an awful lot like city." Should an answer to this mystery ever be found, The Daily Blueprint will be the first to bring you the story.
Point: We Really Hate the #$&(*#@ Jungle
Legopolis, 1675: Since the dawn of our civilization at the hands of the glorious Legos the Wise, a great evil has plagued our people: Jungle. I know I am not alone when I say with utmost authority that I really #$@#ing hate it.
What has jungle ever done for us? Its wood is too flimsy for our industrious workers to put to use, not that they could survive long enough in it to get it. Nor does it produce much in the way for us to eat. A few fruit now and then does not make up for having a pit of disease at your doorstep.
Sure, you say, we can cut it down and use the land beneath. Have you ever tried to cut down a jungle? Maybe it's something that you can start, but trust me, it will be your great-great-grandchildren who eventually will finish the job.
I dream of a day when our children may walk outside of town and not be attacked by poisonous snakes and irrate monkeys. When taking a leisurely walk to our neighbors does run the risk of contracting a debilitating disease. Mayhap one day our wisemen will devise some kind of "jungle-destroying" machine, that would end the spectre of the jungle hanging over us once and for all.
Until that day comes, I fear that I may have to consider leaving Legos for more hospitable lands. Perhaps somewhere that a river runs leisurely through a desert. Yes; I'm sure that would be a much friendlier land indeed.
Counterpoint: Learning to Love the Jungle
Legopolis, 1675: I hear many people complain about the vast stretches of jungle that surround our fair city, and until recently, I had counted myself among those voices. However, as time passes, I feel that I have come to accept, nay, even love our jungle environs.
When most people look at the jungle, they see a churning cauldron of sickness and vicious animals. When I look at the jungle, I see opportunity. Sure, we have jungle, but what of the people (as our wise men speculate) who live in other, less jungle-filled regions of the world? To them, our lavish greenery would be a most wondrous sight!
It is my feeling that someday people from around the world will travel to our exotic lands to take what I like to call "tours." In exchange for money, knowledgeable Legomen guides will lead these foreigners through our tangled mass of mighty trees and bubbling marshes. These people would look in wonder upon the beautiful flowers that we take for granted, and laugh at the mischeveous antics of the monkeys that we so often try to slay to keep them out of our orchards.
Think not of the jungle as a problem today, but as a profit tomorrow.
Smoke In the Distance: What Does it Mean?
Jackson, 1675 BC : In recent years, citizens of Legoland have noticed a strange smell in the air. Rather than the normal odors of roasting meats and pulverized rock that so often permeate the air, the distinct smell of thick, acrid smoke has filled the streets.
"I first noticed in a little while back," says local bricklayer Hans Grout, "but as every day passes, it just keeps getting worse." After the initial, lighter smell first drifted into town, soon came grayish clouds of soot and an even more intense aroma.
"It's getting to the point that I long to be able to smell the undergarments again," comments washerwoman Ida Angle, "and I never thought I'd be hearing myself say that!"
The source of this mysterious olfactory sensation remains a mystery, but area wisemen have been looking into the problem.
"At the moment, we are convinced that beyond the great sea, somewhere, somehow, a good deal of something is being set fire, and possibly burning to the ground. And though I can't be sure exactly what it is, my well-trained nostrils are telling me that it smells an awful lot like city." Should an answer to this mystery ever be found, The Daily Blueprint will be the first to bring you the story.
Point: We Really Hate the #$&(*#@ Jungle
Legopolis, 1675: Since the dawn of our civilization at the hands of the glorious Legos the Wise, a great evil has plagued our people: Jungle. I know I am not alone when I say with utmost authority that I really #$@#ing hate it.
What has jungle ever done for us? Its wood is too flimsy for our industrious workers to put to use, not that they could survive long enough in it to get it. Nor does it produce much in the way for us to eat. A few fruit now and then does not make up for having a pit of disease at your doorstep.
Sure, you say, we can cut it down and use the land beneath. Have you ever tried to cut down a jungle? Maybe it's something that you can start, but trust me, it will be your great-great-grandchildren who eventually will finish the job.
I dream of a day when our children may walk outside of town and not be attacked by poisonous snakes and irrate monkeys. When taking a leisurely walk to our neighbors does run the risk of contracting a debilitating disease. Mayhap one day our wisemen will devise some kind of "jungle-destroying" machine, that would end the spectre of the jungle hanging over us once and for all.
Until that day comes, I fear that I may have to consider leaving Legos for more hospitable lands. Perhaps somewhere that a river runs leisurely through a desert. Yes; I'm sure that would be a much friendlier land indeed.
Counterpoint: Learning to Love the Jungle
Legopolis, 1675: I hear many people complain about the vast stretches of jungle that surround our fair city, and until recently, I had counted myself among those voices. However, as time passes, I feel that I have come to accept, nay, even love our jungle environs.
When most people look at the jungle, they see a churning cauldron of sickness and vicious animals. When I look at the jungle, I see opportunity. Sure, we have jungle, but what of the people (as our wise men speculate) who live in other, less jungle-filled regions of the world? To them, our lavish greenery would be a most wondrous sight!
It is my feeling that someday people from around the world will travel to our exotic lands to take what I like to call "tours." In exchange for money, knowledgeable Legomen guides will lead these foreigners through our tangled mass of mighty trees and bubbling marshes. These people would look in wonder upon the beautiful flowers that we take for granted, and laugh at the mischeveous antics of the monkeys that we so often try to slay to keep them out of our orchards.
Think not of the jungle as a problem today, but as a profit tomorrow.
if the rumours are true ...
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