Early this morning I was laying in bed while half-listening to the BBC World Service on the radio. Most of my attention was occupied by a fiddle tune playing in my head; I was trying out various improvised variations on the tune when this statement caught my attention:
…and then we crossed the border into Miscellanea.
What could the reporter be talking about in his measured British accent? Was this some sort of strained metaphor?
I listened to more of the story and gradually realized that the border referred to was with Lithuania, not Miscellanea.
This fired up my speculative engine. Why might a country be named Miscellania? (I had to change the spelling.) Perhaps Miscellania is a country of immigrants, none of which has a population majority. Or the spelling might be Missilania, the name of a paranoid country ringed by ICBM missile silos and perpetually suspicious of its neighboring realms.
Back to the tune…