Grigovia fights nutritionism

For the health and safety of current citizen and growing fetus alike, the Glorious Republic of Grigovia launched Operation Real Food Now (ORFN). A nationwide program aimed at gathering and disseminating traditional recipes and empirically-based eating advice passed down through the ages from grandmother to son and grandfather to daughter, ORFN emphasizes the consumption these items: fresh fruits and vegetables grown without pesticides; chemical-free oats, millet, and barley; dairy products fermented from cows living organically; eggs from chickens that eat bugs in the grass and live in the sun; and a minimal amount of meat. Questioning the merits of nutritionism (which is the idea that food can be broken down into its component parts, bombarded with trace minerals and vitamins, and processed back into food-like substances without harming the being consuming it or depriving him of what his body needs to live a disease-free life), Minister of Health Dr. Hheiryest Ondiest, said, “How our grandmothers taught us to eat is how it is healthiest to eat – a variety of unprocessed but cooked vegetables, yellow butter from roaming bovines, as little wheat as possible, lots of teas, an egg or two now and again, and meat only on the sacred days.” ORFN began in the Spring of 2013 with a country-wide ban on fast food. At the end of five years, the Ministry of Health will thoroughly measure the overall health of the Grigovian citizenry, its reaction to ORFN, and whether it has been eating its peas and carrots.

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Grigovia preserves past

Mark Twain, Ernest Hemingway, Franz Kafka, and Hunter S. Thompson are but a few of the authors who slept at the Faraway Home for Travelers in downtown Grig. For the last 150 years, the three-story structure on the north shore of the Yalung River has sat wedged between an abandoned brick factory and a defunct dirigible manufacturer. Growing interest and trade in the Glorious Republic of Grigovia's vast reserves of lithium and other rare-earth minerals has allowed this landlocked Central Asian nation to skirt the worst of the ongoing global recession and to sink large sums of money into improving the lot of its citizens. As part of a neighborhood revitalization project that has included purchasing the Statue of Liberty from a tyrannical U.S. federal government, Grig's city planners have decided to expand the footprint of the Faraway House for Travelers and turn it into a national monument. The first and second floors of the adjacent brick factory to its west will become additional dormitories as well as workshops and living quarters for local artisans, and the roof – all 4 square city blocks of it – will be converted to green-space complete with groves of trees, meandering walking paths, and wilderness areas set aside for local weeds and plants. A portion of the cavernous interior of the dirigible hall to its east will be strung with zip-lines, and a climbing wall will grace the entire 5-story expanse of that building's southern wall. Additionally, there will be an archery tunnel, a paper airplane launching platform, numerous sitting and viewing perches, and a green roof reserved for persons seeking to exercise their Liberty (do a bunch of drugs) while watching the setting sun grace the majestic spires of the Yiptlong massif to the north. The Faraway Home itself will be completely overhauled inside and out (while preserving any priceless graffiti left behind by its illustrious former inhabitants), wired with an encrypted T-1 data connection, outfitted with a enough solar panels to make it nearly self-sufficient, and staffed by friendly and accommodating multi-lingual Grigovians versed in self-defense, first aid, and the art of hangover elimination. If you are looking for a place to let loose, love Liberty, and languish luxuriously, Grig's own Faraway Home for Travelers is the place for you. Please, come soon. For more information visit farawayhomeingrig.gv.

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Grigovia accepts refugees

As part of its century-long effort to house and shelter the victims of imperialistic overreach, the Glorious Republic of Grigovia announced today it would take in and care for a first wave of 100,000 refugees fleeing war in Syrian. “The United States of America and the Russia Federation are waging a proxy war with one another in the Middle East,” said spokeswoman for the Interior Ministry Dr. Eroya Yastoyeindt. “Grigovia opens her doors to the civilians affected by these barbaric atrocities.” “We are a small nation, but we spread our arms wide,” said Ulla Rouvendt, Grigovia's third female president, during an address live-cast on the website for her country's executive branch, www.exe.gov.gv. “To the downtrodden and disaffected people of the world,” she continued, “to the tired, poor, and hungry, hear this: Come enjoy the blessings of Liberty, the bounty of peaceful cooperation, and the tranquility of effortless productivity.” Until dedicated housing is available, the refugees will live in the homes of thousands of magnanimous and caring Grigovians.

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on crazy daisies

The Glorious Republic of Grigovia, having recognized the impending shift in the sun's polar alignment and the affect that shift is having on the minds of normally sane people, declared the remainder of 2013 and the first half of 2014 Crazy Days. During the next 11 months, anyone feeling mad, nutty, wacko, strange, loopy, loony, crazy, wigged-out, or just plain odd is advised to pin a daisy to his or her shift-collar and have the fuck at it. Persons seeking to avoid the sight of or unwanted consequences from contact with People Acting Strangely – i.e. Crazy Daisies – are advised to do their grocery shopping during the day and to stay away from crowded areas. Last decade, during Crazy Days, a mere 9 persons were killed by other humans, with 147 non-fatal injuries and 18 deaths resulting from falls and animal assaults. (Compare this to Crazy Days 1900, when hundreds of lunatics died trying to gain entrance into the Homes for Orphans of Imperialistic Overreach that dot Grig, the nation's capital. Fiercely defended by crews of machine-pistol-toting babushkas, not one of the Homes was ever fully breached.) The Ministry of Information, which approves this message, understands the futility of trying to reason with people who are off their rockers; nevertheless it urges all citizens to remember that deep, conscious breathing and cold baths are two effective ways to combat a case of the crazies, and that mace or pepper spray (both of which are available upon request at any Grigovian National Police station) are effective in holding off encroaching buffoons until help arrives. As always, dear Grigovians, stay safe out there, and don't forget to check for flowers.

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man selects horse

Following his decision to joined his the 59nd armored cavalry division of his nation's armed forces, local equestrian enthusiast Percival Florence Chusstwerth bought a horse. “My superior officers may try to issue me a different horse than Chestnut here,” the young man said, patting the tan-colored foal, “but I shall insist on riding only her, and on brushing her sleek flanks every night before bedtime.” The 19-year-old honors student from Flushing, New York, USA, purchased the horse using a large personal loan and most of the money he had saved up over the years doing odd jobs around his neighborhood. “We told him not to do it,” said Dorothy Chusstwerth, the young man's mother. “We even sat down with Percy in the presence of his recruiting officer to try to explain to our son that modern cavalry forces use motorized vehicles – not horses – to move themselves around on the battlefield.” The diminutive woman stopped to blow her nose on a couch-pillow. The recruit's father wrinkled his nose in disgust at his wife's behavior, shook his head, and said, “Unless we can donate his foal to some farm out in the country, we'll be having flank-steak for the next couple of weeks. That boy watched the movie War Horse one too fucking many times.”

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Ynki-proofed data

Now hear ye all hackers, from far and from near, come store with us data files, emails, and gear. We protect our servers from Ynki intrusion, with firewalls, blind-loops, and other solutions. We safeguard your messages, intel, and drops, we stonewall all queries, especially cops'. Our farms they lie buried, in Grig's tunnels deep, watched over by robots that never do sleep. Our coding is some of the finest around, for we just rebuilt it on up from the ground. Sign-up it is shrouded and name-less to boot, we won't check your ID or go through your loot. So stop by and set up your own cloudy hoard, or proxy in via the network of Tor. We welcome all comers, and curse Western eyes, your data is safe from flood theft mold and spies. Our website is ynkiproofdata.gv, sign-up is encrypted, anonymous, free. We're quick alert brash brave fun relaxed and clever, you'll not want to leave but to stay for forever. Huzzah.

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sleepy, sleepy Yyeirdoyesst

There did live once a sleepy man who'd snooze away the day, and slumber deep as cow and crook would make off with his hay. He'd rake again, the very next, and lament his undoing, but afterward, he'd choose to sleep, neglectful of his shooing. He slept so much that mountains sprites those nasty mischief-makers, hatched plan one night to make things right and filled up their dream-shakers. They stole upon the sleeping gent young Yyeirdoyesst his name was, and covered him from head to toe in sparkling shiny sleep-dust. You did too much (said leader-sprite, admonishing his cousin) for now this man will sleep not nights but years – perhaps five dozen. The sprites they panicked, cried and fled, they raced on back to hearths they knew, they wailed and gnashed and foamed with dread, young Yyeirdoyesst they left for dead. But here a goddess came along, her life a careless happy song, she saw the poor man sitting there, with ruddy cheeks and golden hair, and spied the mischief all too soon, and bore him off for home, the moon. Oh what is done?! (she cried aloud, remembering the veils and shrouds that guard the waters of the moon from mortal man's intrusion) act is act, for worse or better; with me he stays but not in fetters. And so she ceased his magic slumber, hoping he would soon recover. Yyeirdoyesst he sat upright, looked around, realized his plight, shrugged his shoulders, lay back down, then bid the goddess fair good-night. Enraged his sloth did made her, mere death it could not slake her, she quickly conjured up his doom, then cast his mug upon the moon, then cast his body down below, and now his face will ever show, on lunar surface brightly.

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on whorphan's tender

Members wanted at the PA 3rd Tender of Whorphans. Duties include balling that jack, sitting pretty, rofl, and minding one's own business. Meetings begin at high noon every second Thor's Day at the corners of Market and South, Philadelphia; the ultimate destination is at the discretion of attending members. Persons interesting in joining this Liberty-minded group are invited to visit www.pa3rdtender.net, or wait at the aforementioned intersection for someone to show up carrying a black flag. Mahalo.

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czabtyip (mountain sharpstand)

Our czabtyip is famous, throughout many lands, we grow it right here with our own rough bare hands. The leaf it is potent, as salve food and drug, from fibers make clothing rope paper and rug. Smoke ferment or grind it, up into a paste, the sharpstand brings joy to the whole human race. The root when it's boiled can cure many ills, among them weak kidneys, sore-face, and the Chills. Don't give it to children, under age of eight, for they'll bound and leap then stay up way too late. Use it as you would use a cherished rare spice, or as a repellent of vermin, like lice. The czabtyip has been worth its own weight in gold, since nasty king Xerxes got timid, and old. It grows in moonshadow, where winds holiday, right next to first sunrise, on each Wednesday. Its powers are useful, to priest smith and king, no wonder all cultures its praises do sing. Please come now and pick some, be quick on the hip, rejoice in the uses of fine pure czabtyip.

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on fearless Banoyend

Sometimes they come as single briefs, and other-times in bundled sheafs, but mostly they – surprise! – arrive in urgent blinking emails, these screams and cries that all ask please, What is the fearless Banoyend? and, Where does it reside? The author hopes these simple words will banish fears and calm some nerves: the Banoyend it is all things, through all of time and everywhere! Each beast and live being, energy and might, each footstool and fungus, galaxy and host, all persons and planets, both thought and xenon – Banoyend is all things both here and beyond. It's what drives all forces, and puzzles all minds, most pregnant of silences, things left behind; it is intuition, and bravery bold, it is stunning beauty, and death's grip ice-cold. Some Western cultures call it god, some Eastern name it prana, but people of Grigovia do call their ken the Banoyend. But why a name so strange and wrong for something that's been here for so long? Banoyend, the useful noun, has roots both in Greek and Grigovian. Ban stems from pan, Greek for all, everything; and yend stems from yendt (or yinnd, yennt), Grigovian for thing, person, or beast. So there it stands, for once and all, pray let the queries come to end, dare drink it in, with soul enthralled, this mighty, quiet Banoyend.

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on Sommerfesst 2013

Loud strangers have come here, guest-houses to fill. We've reached the high summer, chased off the last chill. Oh come ye good people from wide and from far, to witness the bounty of all that we are. Grigovia beckons and opens her doors, to English and Chinese, to Cubans and Moors. The tables are heaped up with food drink and cheer, come lap up some czabtyip wine, spice-rum, or beer. Our women are fertile, our men they are strong, our wild beasts are fierce, and our days have grown long. The Yiptlong it beckons, with trails and sights both, so please come enjoy them, ask we your proud hosts. Resistance is futile, as is all delay, so book ye your travel, and stop by today. Your moods they will brighten, your spirits will lift, you'll let go of fearfulness, anger, spend-thrift. Please do come and join us, for our Sommer's fesst, we've worked all through Spring to make this one the best. You need not be wealthy, we're willing to share, so long as you smile wide and let down your hair. Enough of this riddle, these rhymes make me wince, please come, let us fête you, fair princess or prince. For time it is wasting, the nights will grow long, abandon your purpose, come join in this song. Huzzah!

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Grigovian folk belief

Theirs is a society founded on strongly secular roots, but the Grigovian people do practice some forms of folk religion, a select few of which are examined here. First, and perhaps most widespread, is Sighting First Rays, a ceremony held every morning after the daily yoga practice in honor of the first shining tendrils of sunlight to grace the resplendent peaks of the towering Yiptlong massif. This ceremony consists of pausing one's actions, moving so as to be able to see the Yiptlong massif, and watching closely as its peaks are drenched in sunlight. Second-most widespread after Sighting First Rays is a ceremony known as Clarified Unity, in which one sits quietly for a certain amount of time in order to clarify the inner vision and unify the often competing energies of body ​and stomach and mind. A meditative custom, practitioners of Clarified Unity swear that it helps to reduce distress and worry and to lessen the ravenous cravings of addiction – including those involving food, sex, and self-mutilation. The third most widespread religious practice is Seeing Smallest Beauty, a process by which people look for symmetry in all things, even in those instances – death or destruction or illness – that other societies vilify. Seeing Smallest Beauty leads directly into Walking Beautifully; practitioners of these closely interrelated methods remain detached from the notions of honor and dishonor, profit and loss, benefit and harm, following rather the dictates of their hearts and acting in accordance with Universal patterns. The final belief system examined here is Honoring Good & Bad, a ritual that acknowledges the fickle whims of the Tunnel Pixies. Sometimes helpful and sometimes harmful, Tunnel Pixies are blamed not only for leading children miraculously unharmed out of caved-in sections of tunnel but also for having caused the cave-ins in the first place. Belief in these mischievous beings stretches back to at least the 15th Century, when Briny the Younger – Grigovia's preeminent medieval bard – sang, 'Here they pull on loose brick, and there they light the way, their moods are not for wondering, for these shift with each day.' Examined here are but a few of the customs of the Glorious Republic of Grigovia. Come visit, and discover more for yourself!

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Grigovian princesses born

With little fanfare and less public fuss, princess Thallandia Yündlennd of Grigovia recently gave birth to healthy twin girls. The heiresses to the (perfunctory and largely ceremonial) royal house of this small, landlocked Central Asian nation were born in the wee hours of Saturday morning to the aforementioned princess and Reginald Augustus Steele, a U.S. born author, artist, and social critic who can trace his ancestry to the founding of the American republic. Now that his liaison with princess Thallandia has borne fruit, two of the world's strongest hereditary lines have merged: a Son of the American Revolution and direct descendant ​of the Founders of the Virginia Colony, Mr. Steele walks in Beauty, working tirelessly to safeguard Liberty; and Her Somewhat Royal Highness Ms. Yündlennd can trace her ancestry all the way back to wise old king Krukuv himself, who in the 14th Century married a fierce-eyed princess of the most powerful Yaelong tribe and later dug the first tunnels under now-cosmopolitan Grig. “It is good that so few people have taken notice of this event,” said a radiantly glowing princess Thallandia during an on-line video interview. “We are glad to have received only a handful of cards from well-wishers, and happy that we can go about our business without being hounded by hordes of paparazzi.” In the background of the high-definition video up-link, Reginald Steele, whose presence causes hearts to stir, nodded sagely while tending to his newborn children. Thallandia continued, saying, “According to a recent census, the Grigovian people tolerate the House of Yündlennd for the following reasons: we maintain traditions such as the monthly Celebration of the New Moon, which is also a national women's holiday; we live modestly and do not parade around in gilded coaches; we spend our time and resources advancing the causes of personal liberty, self-sufficiency, and world peace; and most of all because we stay out of politics and watch as the citizens of this fine land rule themselves through an efficient and direct democracy.” The twins – born in summer's heat – carry the names Shimur and Freya.

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