The Swiss Are Coming! The Swiss Are Coming!

The sharpened sticks and palm fronds make simple the old equation: what’s left to carry after an unstoppable force meets with an unstoppable force with meat on its breath. I’ve fashioned this contraption of paddles and rope to lift you water. There’s no end to our robot intelligence once storms land the stern upon the shoal, and crises learn you something of mettle and labor, especially if the island’s contents include a team of helpful animals. But should legality be an issue, remember who wears the boots in a state of nature; then walk lightly to impress on them the realms of your beneficence— nature will appreciate that. Still, listen for rustlings in the bushes; you remain a bug to them despite your best efforts to molt. Should another captive appear one morning, welcome her with old-style dances and holiday totems of mud and twigs. Don’t talk about the sea, even to avoid those awkward silences that can leave you marooned for days. When the islanders return, greet them with coconuts and gunpowder.