Imagine, you wake up one day. You walk outside your house to find that you live in a small garden city made up of a population no larger than a handful of hundreds of people. You notice that “modern” architecture is no longer modern - all housing is comparable to that of past Vienna. You see plant growth across all walks of the city. You see flea markets instead of Walmart. You see instead of roaming police cars of overweight enforcers instead replaced by local marching squads of your cities militiamen goose stepping in Unison. You walk across the casual bridge that is one of many in your locality stretching over natural clean bodies of water. You see fishermen regularly. You notice on every person neighborhood steppe a fliers with one man’s face and posture on it. You see one uniform. You see one people all in one form or another. Instead of finding a job online or through nepotism you are greeting into your town square with job listings on the rise. You get a job as a carpenter, or an artist, or a city developer. All are valued and important. All are necessary. You come home at the end of the day, done with your marching ordinance after having volunteered your share of time with the militia - you open the door to your wife - who does not work but instead takes care of the home and the children. Perhaps she is a nurse at best. Doubtful though, her time is with you and the family, and the community as a whole. Later that night after dinner you and the your family congregate with the rest of the city to the center of your township to hear your leader’s new speech broadcasted, in celebration you and your locality celebrate with a feast and antics of culture. You end the night just as you awoke the morning - with a salute and a Heil. @clutsyjap
