Welcome to Nicetown

A long time ago there was a place called Nicetown. Not to say everything was perfect in Nicetown, but it was a very nice place to live.

There may have been some crime. Not everyone did as well as their neighbor, and the schools were shamefully bad. But it was a community, and it took some bad with its good. For there was boldness in its culture, spirit in its diversity, vitality in its struggles and vigor in its youth.

But the people who made the rules in Nicetown (Who were neither diverse, struggling nor young) dreamed of something more. Nice wasn't nice enough for them and their friends. They tried using their trusted authority as rule-writers to edit out the errors and fix the broken syntax of a community. To correct the dangling participles of its residents and eliminate any unscripted ad-libbing.

Essentially, their singular obsession: Remaking Nicetown into Supernicetown.

Unfortunately, they had long forgotten what it was to be young, or poor or human and for the most part, sexually active. So with bulldozers and sweetheart deals, minor graft and a lazy myopia, they peeled away the soul and the occasional slop and unintended rougher edges one layer at a time, like an onion. Without the crying.

Their only opposition came from flawed antiheroes and fringe voices who only served to reinforce the rulemakers righteous certitude.

And soon it was Supernice Town. A Supernice town for soulless consumption by Supernice people. Supernice town did so well, it could fly silk banners from every lamp post. It did so well, the rulemakers could spend much of the people's money not on the people -- but on making and remaking greater monuments to themselves and insuring there were no tits to be seen anywhere in town. The social complexities -- once shouted in vigorous debate -- were laminated and hung from a wall as relics of the past. Not the "Nicetown Way."

Problem was, most of the nice people who lived in Nicetown had left. Their unique businesses gave way to corporate outposts peddling bland experiences. Fewer Supernicetown residents had any notion where they were and stopped investing in its future. Things grew kinda stagnant. Social division and ignored ills of the community fueled anger and unrest. Although crime became less common, it became more vile, desperate and ugly.

And the schools? They were still shamefully awful. Despite more than a decade of leeching blood and treasure with platitudes and promises, the hangers-on so dear to the rulemakers had only improved their own futures. But the Supernice people and their friends were either too old to care or placed their children into corporate academies.

Still certain of their mission, they tried to divert attention elsewhere. If only they could unearth the sources of such unpleasantess, dig them up like earthworms and leave them to rot in the sun.

So, they crusaded against everything they could find left that some people considered Not the Nice Way. Issued hastily considered Final Solutions for the Real Ills of Supernicetown! Throw out tits! Snuff smokers! Clean out coal! Move out massages! Shutter liquor stores! Quash protest and dissent! Eliminate anguish by hosting biannual Art Nights and adding a marathon!

In the end, they got everything they wanted. A Supernicetown for themselves and their friends, as long as they stuck to certain streets at certain times of the day and tuned out the voices of dissent. A Supernice town for themselves and their friends, at least for as long as it would take them to die.