A Nemo Vignette: The Feast of Capital
In the Town of Tillamook, they have a very curious but long standing custom. The "Feast
Of Capital" is seen mostly as a children's holiday, but is an intrinsic part of
understanding Dealer Culture.
At the start of the holiday period, at the end of October, all of the children of the
village are gathered together and told that they are going to be reviewed as to their
behavior as children. Each child is taken into the headoffis and told what a wonderful
child they are, and that if only they try their hardest they will be better than all of
the other children. Every child is told this exact same speech, in confidence, and out of
both sight and view of the other children.
For the next month the children are encouraged to act totally on their own on a small
project of some kind. These range from paintings, to sculptures, to small speeches and
even dollhouses or other small models. They are told that if they don't make the best
project, that their project will be destroyed and only the best child's project
will be rewarded.
At the final festival of park nightmare, the children's projects are brought forth, and
shown off to a group of adults dressed as some classic children's story villains, like the
dracula, the seeoh, or the drone. They serve as the judges for the project. At the end of
a table made up specially for the event is the winner's prize section, the loser's prize
section, and a large collection of sweets, desserts and small gifts which represent the
potential jackpot for the lucky child. The scents of the mix of treats, mixed with some
imported holly and nutmeg makes for the appropriate feel.
At the very start, a single treat is placed into the loser's section, and all of the
children are told that the losers will get to share that one treat. Then the judging
begins.
No matter how good the child's work, it is deemed unacceptable, and a treat is placed into
the winner's pile. The reasons for this often make little to no sense, and the judges
often will affect stilted or ridiculous voices in order to further drive home how little
the actual judging matches the product. The child's project is then smashed, deleted,
deconstructed, or otherwise made useless, despite any protests from the child that
actually created the project.
However, if another child in the group voices discontent, the project is set aside. The
judges traditionally grumble among themselves about it, and finally move one treat to the
loser's pile with the caveat that this is the ONLY time this will happen.
Indeed, the next time a child raises an objection, there is no response. It is only if
two or more children raise objections that the project is put aside, and a treat moved to
the loser's pile, with the usual grumblings and warnings that this will not occur again.
The process continues, with every project either smashed by the judges or saved by an ever
increasing number of children. If every child objects at once, the judges angrily scoop
up the winner's pile and leave, declaring that the group are breaking the rules of the
game.
If the entire process continues with even one child never objecting and playing perfectly
by the rules, the children who didn't object are declared the winners. The judges give the
winners a small percentage of the winner's pile, explaining that the costs for judging and
the festival, all have to come from somewhere. The judges then scoop up everything save
the loser's pile.
The loser's pile is of course shared among the children who were called losers. As are
any treats left over if the game was ended prematurely. Some traditionalists claim that the unclaimed treats should still be grabbed by the judges, because most Dealer children are familiar with the game, and it tends to end earlier than later.
Comments
This just came to me...
Because I was thinking about some old Hopi tribe traditions which involved community involvement in teaching moral lessons to children.
I was thinking what an anti-capitalist moral lesson story might look like, and this sprang to mind.
I do not pretend I know what I do not know.
Why I still have ambivalent feelings toward my mother
I recall an Easter Egg line of kids, me being one. Balking at start. Late drag, broken eggs on the ground. Johnson City TN. My sister was born there. There may be a connection.
Hey! my dear friends or soon-to-be's, JtC could use the donations to keep this site functioning for those of us who can still see the life preserver or flotsam in the water.
I'm not sure... the feel I was trying to evoke came from
https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Nataska
I honestly think that isolated communities come up with some of the most interesting folklore.
I'm not sure where the easter egg thing comes in, but maybe there's a bit of primal feel still in community activity, no matter what the outward trappings, and we sense it better as children.
I do not pretend I know what I do not know.
Primal may be it.
Hey! my dear friends or soon-to-be's, JtC could use the donations to keep this site functioning for those of us who can still see the life preserver or flotsam in the water.