ah yes, nothing screams memegame like 20,000 sorbian artisans in cootbus churning out artisanal clipper ships in the marshy floodplains of lower lusatia, 300 kilometers from the nearest ocean. every morning jan and sławomir roll out of their shoelace hovels, sit by the spree river, and handcraft three-deck ocean-going vessels with nothing but twine and leftover manure, which are then instantly teleported to liverpool’s docks because the sky vending machine decreed britain needed them yesterday...
the game cheerfully ignores the fact that not a single tree in the area is large enough for a mast, and that the local carpentry guilds have never seen a ship longer than a bathtub. logistics, literacy, material shortages, and physics? irrelevant. every clipper magically arrives fully crewed, fully provisioned, and with a navigation system that somehow knows the wind patterns of the atlantic decades in advance. even better, cootbus pops continue their normal daily lives of tending tiny vegetable gardens behind cramped brick hovels, mending worn-out shoes for the local aristocrats, grumbling about the latest prussian tax edicts and composing minor poetry about the floods of sprjewja while simultaneously fueling the global trade economy with zero infrastructure investment, because memegame2 firmly believes that a dozen shoelace-mending blokes arguing by the spree all morning is all a nation needs to dominate global commerce, not a book that's called "how to build a sailboat 101"