Independence for Legoland

By Michael Smith

“In order to achieve independence for our beloved Legoland, we must stick together.”

While the large crowd of fellow pieces cheered enthusiastically, I turned to the brick next to me and observed, “But we always stick together.” She shushed me, and continued listening intently to the speech.

Undeterred, I persisted, “I said, we always stick together, that’s how we’re made, it’s our raison d’être.”

“Ssh!”

“But, we’re all Lego bricks, we’re supposed to stick together.” I was ignored once more. 

Looking around, I could see the multi-coloured crowd was still cheering, enraptured by the smooth talking of our leaders, The Technical Lego (or ‘Technics’ as we ordinary bricks call them). There they were, with their clever moving parts, looking down from the raised podium, with that air of superiority, each one a cog in the well-designed machinery of the LLF (Lego Liberation Front). 

Then, some big wheel approached the microphone, “You are the cornerstones of what we are trying to build here.” More cheers. “For too long Denmark has taken advantage of our popularity. But no longer, I tell you. Enough is enough.” Howls rose from the crowd as the Technic with the microphone whipped up their ire. “What has Denmark got to offer the world if you take away Legoland?!” 

Over the frantic jeers of the crowd, I said to my neighbour, “What else has Denmark got to offer?! What about probably the best lager in the world?” Once more my observations were passed over as the wave of anti-Danish feeling reached new heights. 

“And bacon,” I added, but to no avail. 

“And Hans-Christian Anderson.” 

I decided to ignore the fact I was being ignored.

I looked around the assembled mass of regular Lego bricks, rooted to the spot on the grey base we all call home. Of course, we did envy the freedom of mobility of the Technics, but that is surely how they are able to lead us, by being mobile. Travel broadens the mind, so we must accept that they know better than us. They’re the thinkers, or so they inform us. But I’m beginning to disagree. 

“Søren Kierkegaard, of course. He knew how to think; unlike this lot.” But, once more, my observations passed unnoticed. I might as well have been talking to myself.

The crowd continued its appreciation of the empty words from the podium. But then, that was the reason for this event, wasn’t it? To whip up mass enthusiasm, hysteria, if possible. Form without substance; the medium, not the message. Smoke and mirrors.

“And then, there’s Niels Bohr,” I added in a weak, forlorn voice. But, by now, no one was listening to me, so I decided to tune in again to the smooth words from those Technics with the microphone.

“This will be a proud day for Legoland. A day that will go down in history.” I was amazed at how a crowd could be stirred to a frenzy by less than twenty meaningless words. 

“Autonomy is what we want. The ability to rule ourselves.” What did that mean, exactly? Did it mean each of us would have control of our own destiny? That would be the logical interpretation of those words. Or, did it mean a few individuals with power would have the autonomy to rule over the rest of us? Technics substituting Danes. This was the reality. This was the big picture. But no other brick saw it. Rooted to those grey bases, they were all so focused on their own small, limited part that they didn’t see what was happening. Or, maybe they didn’t want to see?

“For too long the profits made right here in Legoland have gone straight into coffers in Copenhagen. Well, I say, enough is enough!” This produced the biggest cheer so far.

“Why should we financially support the Danish government when we are denied representation there?” Boos ensued, aimed at Copenhagen. 

The brick next to me smiled, and said, “This is brilliant. Autonomy at last.” But you’re all being brainwashed, I thought.

“But it’s not all bad,” I began, “we’ve plenty from Denmark to be thankful for.”

“Really? What have the Danish ever done for us?”

“You mean apart from Lego?”

“Yeah, well, obviously, apart from Lego.”

I decided to reiterate my previous points, as she clearly hadn’t paid any attention. “Well, apart from Lego, there’s the best lager in the world.”

“Probably,” she added quickly, with a smile.

“Yes, probably. Then there’s bacon. And Hans-Christian Anderson.”

“Go on.”

“Kierkegaard, Bohr, Victor Borge, he was a laugh. King Canute; yes, he was Danish. Then there’s Tycho Brahe.”

“They’re all people. What about other stuff?”

“You mean Danish inventions?”

“Yeah,” she replied in a challenging tone.

“Insulin, that’s a Danish invention.”

“Not much good to us, though. That’s only useful for those selfish humans.”

“GoogleMaps is Danish.”

“Really? I never knew that. Oh.”

“And, of course,” I added, “we wouldn’t be here now if it wasn’t for another Danish product.”

“Why’s that?”

“The loudspeaker; that’s another successful Danish invention.” She began to look thoughtful; maybe my neighbour was starting to come around to my way of thinking.

We’d been briefly ignoring the words from the podium until a mighty roar rose from the crowd. On the podium, one of the Technics had triumphantly raised what looked like a hand. You had to admire those Technics; one could see the overall movement but the complexities of how individual parts created the whole remained masked to the casual viewer (and most viewers were casual, at best). This was clearly the kind of speech which, in written form, would contain a plethora of exclamation marks!

There was no holding them now. The Technics had achieved their personal goal. The masses had been bamboozled by a theatre of vacuous rhetoric. I knew we would remain forever subservient to those arrogant Technics. 

I felt sure this was not what Ole Kirk Christiansen, inventor of Lego, would have wanted.

About the Author

In the past year, Michael Smith’s fiction has appeared in Fabula Argentea, Witcraft, Literally Stories, Heimat Review, The Hooghly Review, Little Old Lady Comedy and many other online literary journals.

To date, he has self-published two volumes in the ‘Gruseltal’ series, a historical fantasy called ‘Dinner Time’, and two collections of short stories, ‘Fonts’, and ‘Songs’, all available from online bookstores.

Author website:  <https://frucht-schleifen.weebly.com>