Afghanistan's Little Known Neighbors

Afghanistan’s Little Known Neighbors

In its heyday, the Soviet Union held many satellites in sway. But as communism waned, larger territories reverted to rule by their ethnic populations, while smaller lots were sold to the highest bidder in an attempt to raise capital for Russia’s starved economy. American and Western European entrepreneurs were able to snap up the Baltic Avenues of the post cold war era for little more than Monopoly money. Most such properties are too small to be shown on maps, being mere closet space relative to the larger principalities. But with the eruption of the Afghani conflict, the CIA has shown increasing interest in these unknown Central Asian hamlets and the surprising social experiments to which they have become home.

Jeffbeckistan – With the music market gone Top 40 and the days of the ten minute power solo consigned to history’s dustbin, those of the shoulder length hair whose fingers never stop moving have found themselves with no place to go when the last roadie has fallen down the stairs with their doublenecks and the last bar has closed. Originally founded by the League of Drafty Guitarists (so named for the holes in their leopardskin leotards), Jeffbeckistan has become a giant woodshed where the licks are always polished and the amps all go to eleven. Its chief export, the hammer-on, still flounders on the open market, but is beginning to gain favor as a cheap and ecologically sound method of insecticide. Pledging neutrality, Jeffbeckistan has vowed not to turn down its stereos whether asked by the Taliban or the Western Coalition. Citizens of Jeffbeckistan may be contacted by posting to alt.spandex.frayed.

Nervouswreckistan – Not surprisingly, Nervouswreckistan is located just next door to Jeffbeckistan. Founded by Dr. Morris Abramowitz, a psychiatrist specializing in anxiety and panic disorders, Nervouswreckistan is famous for its couch-shaped gardens and underground falafel stands. Although rarely seen in public, its citizens lead a full and active life as Internet trolls, and have stockpiled an impressive collection of Dr. Who videos.

What-the-heckistan – Few modern people cleaning out junk drawers and back closets have failed to exclaim, "What the heck is that?" Bigger than a bread box but smaller than a football field, What-the-heckistan has become the world’s largest gift and chotchka shop, a haven for the wretched refuse of planned obsolescence economies. Its Capitol Building, made of 100,000 matchsticks glued together, remains sparsely furnished in the hope that if they just keep dusting it off, sooner or later someone’s bound to stop in and nab it. Their national emblem, a motor from a 1952 Erector set, is their free gift to anyone who recognizes what the heck it is. Their standard, a green Chia Pet running free amidst a field of mood rings and spats organizers, is sewn together from a gigaload of Crazy Eddie mousepads unearthed by archeologists working beneath the Vatican.

Noneckistan – Tired of watching UFO worshippers self-destruct in the land of camembert and ticklers, the French have enacted tough new anti-cult legislation allowing them to guillotine adherents of minority religions. Rusty from disuse are not just the guillotines, but also the guillotine operators, who during gentler times are employed as sushi chefs, moyhels, and auto body repairmen. Their skills still vacationing somewhere in the southland, their collective hands sporting a bad case of the Vin Rue shakes, these purveyors of the "half Antoinette" are responsible for many botched beheadings. Though technically still among the living, partially decapitated French cultists lack a certain panache or je ne sais quois, and have therefore been banished to Noneckistan, where they can lead the same lives of quiet desperation as other Frenchmen, albeit with less style and debauchery. This reviewer found their baguettes limpid, their crepes engaging, and their Nanettes a definite a no-no.

Bigbumistan – No one has ever seen a Swiss with a big bum. Many have attributed this to the Swiss penchant for balance and perfection. But there was in fact an outbreak of big bums in the Zurich of the late eighties, and it was only quashed by deporting many citizens to – you guessed it – Bigbumistan. Known for their cheekiness throughout Central Asia, the Bigbumistanis subsist on a diet of yak butter and Hostess Snowballs, the latter flown in by international aid workers under the condition that the Bigbumistanis don’t crash parties in neighboring states. While this uneasy truce seems rife with codependency, no one is ready to break the cycle just yet.

Badcheckistan – Political scientists have described this curious township as having a communist economic system with a capitalist fig leaf: Everything has its price, everything is paid for by check, and none of the checks are any good. Nor does anyone expect them to be. Rather, it all seems to be some elaborate system of social queues designed to highlight people’s indebtedness to one another, without the faintest hope of ever reckoning such debts. Nothing could be ruder than to fail to offer a check in payment for some goods or services, and yet nothing could be ruder than to actually make good on the funds. Eager to prove that they are honest in the worst way, Badcheckistanis will insist on giving you three forms of i.d. and a blood sample before asking you to accept their personal check; but this won’t prevent said check from bouncing higher than a superball on meth. Badcheckistan does have a banking system, but it seems to have zero liquidity, being based on a treasury of old railway timetables, most of which are inaccurate. The making of kites is the chief occupation among the citizenry, all of whom seem remarkably content.

Bedcheckistan – Run by former proprietors of British boys’ schools, Bedcheckistan boasts some of the oddest customs in all Central Asia. At midnight citizens are checked to determine whether they are alone in their own beds. While this is rarely the case, those who do find themselves so hobbled are paired with other citizens, unless it is Corporal Punishment Night, in which case group activities ensue. If traveling to Bedcheckistan, be sure and bring a cattle prod.

Stanthemanistan – During the frothy market of the late nineteen-nineties, neither tulip bulbs nor baseball cards were actually traded on the NASDAQ; but after an initial offering at a mere eight dollars, shares of stanmusiel.com soared well past two hundred in the first day of trading. While hindsight suggests that their business model was flawed, no one can deny the rugged entrepreneurial spirit behind this online firm specializing in baseball paraphernalia from a bygone era. When the market tanked, thousands of Americans realized they were paying more than half their rent to store collections of faded trading cards, moldy first-baseman’s mitts, autographed jockstraps, and major chunks of long-demolished stadiums. By cashing in all their shares of what had become a penny stock, the remaining employees of stanmusiel.com, now holed up in a single basement apartment in Queens, New York, were able to found Stanthemanistan, a home for wayward baseball souvenirs. Regrettably, most of this young nation is still taken up by the remains of Comiskey Park. Hence the Stanthemanistanis have sought to rent yet more storage space from neighboring Nervouswreckistan, but so far they have been unable to get the Nervouswreckistanis to come out of their caves and discuss the matter.

Western intelligence operatives are still studying the peculiar habits and customs of these Central Asian mini-satellites or "asteroids," convinced that through extensive leafleting and the playing of Madonna’s "Material Girl" over short wave radio, they can convert these newest members of the international community to the allied cause. However one local Sir Oracle, speaking from an undisclosed location under condition of anonymity, was quoted as saying "We have enough big bums right where we are thank-you-very-much.