In this paradise of wars forgotten, men read and share without conflict.

Knowledge is free, ethically bound, without reason for profit among any for themselves, but for each other. Combat is play, with smiles amid sweat and blood and flexed muscles and strained tendons. Injuries are treated and welcome with open arms, locked joints cause glee among even he who has submitted, and all is in good nature. Bladed edges, once bayonets and swords, serve now as trowels and spades, digging earth for seed to grow and feed the people. The masses have forgotten the childish pursuit of war, but know defense, for they have taken up these relics of war against wild beasts who seek the lifeforce from their loved ones. Life is simple, but not without need for safety. Thus, all things become weapons, and all weapons become things. The mind an object for life as well as death; a spade an object of death as well as life.

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