Three things from DAH.

DAH is me, David Anthony Hance. "I prefer the folly of enthusiasm to the indifference of wisdom." (Anatole France)

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First up this week: Saugeais … 
I'm distracted by quasi-countries and micronations. My infatuation began when I found three stamps from Lundy in what remains of my mother's stamp collection. They were labeled "industrial post." What? Where's Lundy? It turns out to be an island off the coast of Britain inhabited largely by puffins. It does have a pub and a lighthouse. The "King of Puffinland" clearly owns the island, and (among other things) prints postage stamps to get mail to the English mainland, at which point if must also have British postage affixed to advance. The authors of a recent book (How To Rule Your Own Country, by Harry Hobbs and George Williams) suggest that there are 130 "micronations" across the globe (one third of them in Australia!). I'm introducing this subject to you with La République du Saugeais … eleven municipalities in northeastern France (bordering Switzerland). This micronation had such a friendly beginning: A joke and a handshake and, voila! -- a fresh new land was established in 1947. There have been four presidents. The French Postal Service issued a stamp commemorating the republic. Sadly, I haven't got my hands on one yet.  

Second up this week, Sark …
Maybe not a micronation at all, but Sark was the last feudal fiefdom in Europe (the fief granted to Hellier de Carteretuntil in 1565 … feudalism on Sark wasn't abolished until 2008). Sark is one of the Channel Islands, rising out of the sea rather closer to France than to it's ultimate master-country, the United Kingdom. Officially, Sark is a royal fief, which forms part of the Bailiwick of Guernsey, with its own set of laws and its own parliament. Guernsey and Jersey, the English Channel Islands, have a rather complicated history and relationship with their boss country. So, Sark has some weird rules and laws for its 500 island-dwellers. For example, Sark was designated the first Dark Sky Island in the world in 2011. Cool! Of course, electricity came to the island very late anyway. Further, no cars are allowed on the island's roads, only horse-drawn vehicles, bicycles, and tractors (a nod to the farmers). Which also sounds cool, except I understand that eventually everyone got tractors and they simply bounce along the roads of Sark with those big wheels, kicking up dust and dirt. There are lots of other odd bits and bobs about Sark. Its postage stamps? Guernsey stamps, sometimes with a nod to Sark. The place seems worth a visit to me!

Third up this week, Sealand …
Sealand is a very tiny micronation, but they do print postage stamps! Probably one of their major fund-raising activities, along with other Sealand merch. Where is Sealand? It's in the North Sea, off the southeast coast of England, and it's man-made. Roughs Tower is a Maunsell Sea Fort. It was built by the British during World War II. Long decommissioned, Roughs Tower has been (since 1967)  claimed as a sovereign state by the family and associates of Paddy Roy Bates. The adventure began when Bates looked for something better than a boat in international waters for his pirate radio operation. Ultimately, he sought as much legitimacy as could be mustered by establishing Roughs Tower as the new nation of Sealand. Although the UK eventually extended it's territory claim farther offshore, bringing Sealand into the English fold, Sealand perseveres! It's survived armed coup attempts (disputed prime minister attacking with speedboats!), fires, the death of its founder, and threatened sales to resort hotel-casinos. And yet, Sealand survives! I doubt I'll ever go there, but I want to learn more. I'm really quite inspired by the folly of these little lords around the world. 

A book I'm waiting for (ordered used) … 
Micronations: The Lonely Planet Guide to Home-Made Nations, by John Ryan
"Take, for example, the Lonely Planet guide to Micronations, which takes us to homemade nations like The Principality of Sealand, the Northern Forest Archipelago, and the Kingdom of Romkerhall. These nations, which often exist only in the minds of their inhabitants, are unlikely to become tourist destinations, but the stories of people who have tried to remove themselves from our planet-wide system of independent states are interesting nonetheless." (C. Max Magee, in The Millions)

And a bit more: 

"Alive Together", by Lisel Mueller

Speaking of marvels, I am alive
together with you, when I might have been
alive with anyone under the sun,
when I might have been Abelard’s woman
or the whore of a Renaissance pope
or a peasant wife with not enough food
and not enough love, with my children
dead of the plague. I might have slept
in an alcove next to the man
with the golden nose, who poked it
into the business of stars,
or sewn a starry flag
for a general with wooden teeth.
I might have been the exemplary Pocahontas
or a woman without a name
weeping in Master’s bed
for my husband, exchanged for a mule,
my daughter, lost in a drunken bet.
I might have been stretched on a totem pole
to appease a vindictive god
or left, a useless girl-child,
to die on a cliff. I like to think
I might have been Mary Shelley
in love with a wrongheaded angel,
or Mary’s friend, I might have been you.
This poem is endless, the odds against us are endless,
our chances of being alive together
statistically nonexistent;
still we have made it, alive in a time
when rationalists in square hats
and hatless Jehovah’s Witnesses
agree it is almost over,
alive with our lively children
who–but for endless ifs–
might have missed out on being alive
together with marvels and follies
and longings and lies and wishes
and error and humor and mercy
and journeys and voices and faces
and colors and summers and mornings
and knowledge and tears and chance.


And that's all for this week.
From Mary Oliver's "Sometimes"