MISS LOBOTOMY VISITS MOUNTPECULIAR – As Constant Readers will recall from last week’s Column (those who didn’t sleep through it, that is), Your Miss Lobotomy was sent on a commercial mission to the twin counter-cultural communities of Hippieville and Granolafield, there to browbeat the befogged, befuddled and bedizened business owners into advertising in this superb gazette. Results were distinctly mixed (one small ad after 27 stops), but This Columnist DID receive a refresher course in alternative lifestyles, which merely served to confirm her somewhat vague memories of Woodcock, New Jersey and the Early Fall of Love.

At any rate, having discharged our duties in those burgs, we mounted our newly-refurbished unicycle and sped westward in the direction of the Capital City, Mountpeculiar, a place which is well and truly named. If all of the bas couture Hippies reside in Hippieville and Granolafield, their haute couture brethren and sistren who made the seamless transition from Hippiedom to Yuppiedom make their home in the capital (except for the People’s Republic of Burlap, of course, which is QUITE another matter, and which will not be dealt with here).

On the streets of this small town masquerading as a cosmopolitan center (spelled “centre”) of Art and Culture may be seen the occasional Peruvian goat herder’s hat, yellow rubber boots ad Mexican serape worn by the few die-hard counter-culturists who repelled both the trend toward Yuppieism and the suggestion that they find lodgings in another town. The normal attire, however, seems to be three-piece suits for both men and women, white shirts (ditto), rep ties (pink ascots for the women), and briefcases. This being the case, it will come as no surprise to residents of our minitropolis to learn that fully seven-ninths of the population (at the last census) is engaged in the legal profession, and that, as a result, Mountpeculiar has the highest per capita number of attorneys of any place in the Known (and possibly the Unknown) Universe.

As might be imagined, the result of having so many lawyers so close together makes governing the city all but impossible, to say nothing of carrying on a profession, riding a unicycle, or getting a haircut; indeed, the only activities which enjoy favor there are suing and countersuing. As might also be imagined, with that many lawyers, there are nearly as many political parties, chief among which are the Mensheviks, the Socialist Revolutionaries, the Socialist Reactionaries, the Right-Wing Progressives, the Left-Wing Progressives, the Antediluvian Party of Backward Motion, the Modern Know-Nothings, the Traditional Know-Nothings and the Anarchical Anabaptists. There is also a sprinkling of Democrats (no modifier), several quite determined Whigs, and a lone Republican who escaped the Purges of 1973. With that many parties (and we have named but a small portion of them; each attorney in town seems also to function as the central committee [and often sole member] of a different party) and that many lawyers, it is small wonder that a City Council meeting with an agenda of but three items sometimes takes as four nights and days to complete its work. Under such a bizarre system, one can understand why the City recently lost track of its treasury, resulting in the loss of the nearly half-million Venetian gold ducats contained therein. A small group of the very few lawyers who do NOT serve on the City Council appointed themselves the Public-Spirited Attorneys’ Ad Hoc Ducat Search & Rescue Committee – but only after a week’s worth of wrangling over the first sentence of their Declaration of Public Good, and whether or not to take a stand in favor of Santa Claus. However, few in the capital expect anything good to come out of the PSAAHDS&RC (pronounced “pshaw”) as gold seems to stick to lawyers’ fingers. However, it will be a diversion from the tedious business of governing the city.

With that brief summary of the basics of Mountpeculiar, Your Miss Lobotomy now takes her leave. Farewell, constant readers!