There are many stories in our world that date back many ages; many ages dated back through our world in stories many; and many storied worlds in dates with aged backs our many. If that made any sense at all, you probably don’t have any sense.
One of the oldest stories I know is an ancient tale related by an old bard named “Lordle the Lowest of the Lesser Lords of Lohem” in his epic story, the Trälead. It is a story of adventure, or intrigue, and massive amounts of Duct Tape. Yes, my beloved hearkeners, the story I am about to relate is the ancient history of that great nation that no one’s ever heard of except a few of you who have actually read this blog before… Träliá!
Charles Dickens
Once upon a time, in a wide green meadow somewhere on the beautiful peninsula of Italy (although no one knew what to call the place at that time), there was a gathering of homeless premedieval hobos living in shacks. Now, this tribe of hobos had lived in pre-Italian Italy for several hundred generations, and the neighboring Etruscan tribes pretty much left them alone. One year, however, a group of stylishly dressed people who spoke a cool language and thought very highly of themselves decided they wanted to take over Italy, and so they called themselves Romans and started conquering.Needless to say, the hobos decided it was high time to get up and go, so they all split up and ran like the dickens (although this was, of course, long before Charles Dickens was born).
Atlantian Treasure
Also Atlantian Treasure
One of these former hobos turned global traveler was a short little dude named Bfer. He also had a friend named Ihse. Bfer and Ihse traveled far and wide, trying to find a place to live. In the first month of their roamings, they were nearly killed by wild animals, drowned by a flood, starved by a famine, dehydrated by a drought, slaughtered by barbarians, and they weren’t able to get a single good night of sleep, but at long last they met a mysterious Wanderer from the ancient civilization of Atlantis. The Wanderer handed them one of the greatest treasures of Atlantis, and said in true creepy-mysterious-hooded-individual fashion: “Keep it secret – Keep it safe!”
Bfers "Amazing Roll of Silver Sticky Stuff" Shop
Unfortunately, they didn’t speak Atlantian – or English, for that matter – so Bfer and Ihse didn’t know to keep it secret or safe. They soon realized that this silvery-sticky thin band of stuff all rolled up like a wheel was really good at doing just about anything. So Bfer set up shop on a large island. He and Ihse used their silver sticky stuff to build a ring of several huge monumental stones, all set up on end and topped by horizontal stones. Bfer would stand in the middle and sell his product, which he ingeniously named the “Amazing Roll of Silvery Sticky Stuff.”
“Come and get your own Amazing Roll of Silvery Sticky Stuff!” he would yell from the center of his stone store.
“What’s it for?” a grumpy old duck farmer asked.
“It does everything!” Ihse explained. “It sticks stuff together!”
“Like tape?”
“It’s the greatest of all tape!” Bfer responded.
“It’s the greatest thing in the world!” Ihse exhorted.
“Nah, ducks are the greatest thing in the world,” the duck farmer insisted.
“Well this tape is better than ducks,” Bfer replied. “It’s Duck Tape!”
Soon, the product name morphed into “Duct Tape”, only because Ducks were apparently patented in that region by the same duck farmer who always gave them trouble. So Bfer and Ihse continued to manufacture and sell their Duct Tape, until one sad day when the native Britons decided they didn’t like Bfer and his friend anymore, so they tarred and feathered them and forced them to leave.
It was after this incident that Bfer decided to follow after the American Dream (although he didn’t know the dream was American at the time). He and Ihse decided to get married, have kids, raise a family, make a fortune, eventually buy a Ferrari Testarossa Convertible and maybe found a nation or two. With this dream in mind, they married in a newly founded church no one had ever heard of (called St. Paul’s Cathedral, or something like that) and set off for the New World; only, no one knew the New World was there at that time, so they all waved goodbye to the newly weds at the dock fully expecting them to drop off the edge of the earth or be consumed by fire breathing sea serpents or something like that.
The Ferrari Testarossa - Man's Best Friend.
After a short detour in Greenland where the couple had a less than civil meeting with the Viking Leif Ericson, the two landed in the marshy peninsula of Florida. Ihse demanded they find a nice clean stream to wash their clothes in, and unintentionally did so in a little river that the Native Americans liked to call the “Fountain of Youth”. Six hundred years later, Bfer and Ihse began to suspect that the stream they were drinking from wasn’t entirely normal.
It was about this time when European people started showing up in the New World, probably trying to figure out what was taking Bfer and Ihse so long to come home. First was Columbus, then Ponce de Leon, soon a whole gang of people aboard a boat called the Mayflower – the immigrants just wouldn’t cease. Realizing it was time they moved on, Bfer and Ihse packed their luggage and started trekking yet again, with their newly born daughter, who they named Träliá.
Map of the Nation of Träliá
After a brief sojourn of thirteen years in La-La-Land, the young family found a piece of land that no one else had claimed yet, probably because it was covered in jungles, a desert, and deep, purple acidic lakes, and infested with dragons, the terrible Van-Pie Eater, and brain-sucking moths the size of small bicycles. For Bfer and Ihse, however, it was home. They named the land Träliá, after their growing daughter, who would one day be Queen, and they named the capitol city “Bferihse”, after themselves, where they built a home and a small village out of Duct Tape. Bfer also designed the very first automotive vehicle, still dreaming of his Ferrari Testarossa Convertible; but unfortunately he sold the patent and designing rights to some German named Benz.
And so that is how that small European country in South America was originally founded, and ever since then it has adopted a culture not too unlike that of the native La-Ladians of La-La-Land. Certainly, there are many more stories that can be told of the amazingly diverse and altogether fictional country, but those will be left for another day. Lordle, the Lowest of the Lesser Lords of Lohem, apparently ran out of ink before he could write anything more. Thank you for reading this long, picture-filled, random and pointless story, known simply as the Trälead.
Where do you get your facts for this? I happen to have studied ancient epic literature once, and I can assure you there is no such thing as the “Tralead” or whatever you call it. There is also no such place as Tralia, as your post proves… how could Tralia be both a “small European Country” and be located in South America? It’s not possible. I studied Geography once, I should know.
And I’d like to let you know that I don’t approve of all the randomness on this site. I don’t approve of Randomness in general: I am an advocate of Nonrandomness.
Where do I get my facts? I’ll tell you where; I happen to own the one-and-only copy of the Tralead, handed down for generations until it came into the posession of a one Howard Brenslic who then gave it to me. Apparently he didn’t know what it was and had been using it for years as a doorstop to keep his unruly pet Snicker-er from escaping his basement. After the Snicker-ers sudden and unattested for demise, he had no more use for the book and gave it to me.
And as for your nonrandomness… well I have to warn you, it is dangerous to rebuke randomness. I once knew a man who hated randenuity and said so often; then one day a flying shrimp-zombie sat on his head, and a flying-shrimp-zombie-eating Alaskan Chum Chomper took a snap at the thing, but unfortunately missed and took of the nonrandom man’s head. His name was Harvey. Poor Harvey.