She was a girl from nowhere important. In fact, it was so utterly nowhere important, that it was maligned on the maps of the world it sat upon the face of, by the showing of it in minuscule proportions; and, of course, by it being labeled with a capital ‘N’ and ‘I’.
Nowhere Important, it was called; yet, it’s mountain was of dire importance to some. It’s importance to the people of its land, and others, was not because it was the tallest, grandest, prettiest, toughest, or most dangerous mountain in existence. For, while it was all of those things, the reason was much more simple and less likely to be writ on paper. You see, the people of the land, who were all the wrong shade or political background or inclination to spend money at Malls to be important to anyone, were also vicious warriors when provoked mightily. Now, if there was one thing that could provoke a warrior of that land to viciousness, it was another warrior of that land playing a practical joke on them, and they were all, in all their glorious shades and political ideals and non-money-spender ways, less practical than practical joker when it came to encountering a culture: even, their own! Yet, for all their viciousness, and prank playing, and general dislike of anyone, they all agreed on one thing, which was the name of the mountain.
Even other tribes, who swept in, occasionally, to ravage the land, pillage the villages, and produce offspring they had no intention o f paying child support for, came to agreement on the name of the mountain.
So, when the people of Nowhere Important, found that by streak of arrogance or two, and an at least equal number of strokes by pen, their land had been “conquered” and then sold to another People all together – a very surprising event, since none of them had even considered selling it and all of them had remembered kicking those last invaders arses but good – that they were now under laws other than their own, they shrugged a mighty shrug, and kept on as they were.
This irked their new “owners” something fierce, for they were a new people themselves, proud of their ability to make themselves so, to the point of calling themselves People and making fine speeches about it all; and, of course, nothing can make a People feel more independent than buying land that the inhabitants did not sell and then telling them what to do.
Equally, nothing can piss off a People more than being utterly ignored, no matter how weird they get, unless they are buying drinks. So it was, that they increased their weirdness to an extreme level, until they were doing all the things to their new acquisitions that they had previously complained of their prior owners doing to them, and which they felt justified the war that won their independence.
When even that failed to properly phase these Nowhere Importance people, it was decided to crack their spirit completely, take away what gave them a sense of unity, and thusly was the mountain renamed something utterly silly and pointless to the people of Nowhere Important. It was named after a leader, not a very prestigious one, of the People who tried so hard to capture the attention of people who really just did not care.
“We the People, “ said the leader of the People, “declare that this mountain is now named after a rather boring leader of ours; in his honor, you shall always call it by his name.”
“Phtt! That’s not going to happen!” said the people who already knew the name of their mountain. Then they drank up all the free drinks at the mountain re-naming celebration and went home to sleep it off
This is a rough draft of a bit of story. It is probably part of the larger story related to Ordine, about Angela and where she grew up. However, I am not sure of that. It might just be a different story altogether.
Whatever the case, it began with me, once again, wondering how i could tell the tale, either as being about her or just in general, without it bringing too much political controversy into it. I don’t want anti-anyone sentiment to overshadow the basic story.