Is There Appetite for Experiment? 

Peace is upon us.  Ever since some dead Bgs preceded a takedown and some shocking deaths, we have had a period of relative calm.  The question now could be:

What should we do with the peace?

I think we should consider some daring, innovatives adjustments to the delicate ecosystem that we live in.

We need growth, and ambition.  Could an experimental city allow for this?  Bloodlines with no leading experience taking the helm of a district, managing their own affairs, protected by us, in the non-experimental world?

Or do we need a city of many HQs led by the ambitious, and left to their own affairs?  Shake the tree, and let's see who the last person standing is?

Perhaps this delicate ecosystem needs to facilitate the creation of an alternative ecosystem?

I think experimentation only leads to greater knowledge, and greater knowledge usually leads to good things.

What would you like to see? 

Sadly, it seems we are not an experimental bunch. 

I wonder if a Competition could bring us together? 

Ian noticed Gordon out in the streets. He saw the familiar signs of his old habits beginning to show. Like the rattle of a junkie denied his fix. Ian walked over to Gordon and put a hand on his shoulder. 
 
“See now Gordon, you started off quite well there. Perfectly reasonable discussion, entirely above board and fair. But then the lack of response appears to have triggered the inner fiend and that craving for attention has destabilised your mind once more. This desperation has lead to old reflexes coming out and talk of competition arising once more.”

He placed his other large hand on Gordon’s other shoulder and fixed his gaze, sternly.

”Gordon, you’ve done well so far. You’ve been travelling in a largely positive direction. I’ve had no complaints about you and so far I’ve not had to deny any requests for your head. This however, represents a very dangerous dance out toward very thin ice. As the head of your family I would advise you not to resume the contentious ways of your past. Continue to stride the righteous path.”

He smiled at Gordon. Still hopeful the long contaminated line could turn a corner.

“Don’t make me put a billet in your head.”

There have been many proposals in the past for an experimental city, the most recent of which was the outlined utopia of debauchery, degeneracy, and filth as outlined in Petition For An Open City.

How do we know that any experimental city that is set up won't devolve into a cesspit of promiscuity as was initially conceptualised by @Conceptualist? You leave a couple of ambitious Goombas alone in a city, and before you know it the improper acts will start and the side walk will be slippery with lubricant.

As much as people will refuse to admit this, this is the #1 reason why we need strong Crew Leaders, to keep everyone in line and prevent @Conceptualists's wet dream from becoming reality.

StandbyJudgeHarold noticed Don Ian standing behind GordonGekko, nearly drilling a hole into the back of his Gordon's head with the menacing gaze of killing intent emanating from his eyes.

Worry not, Don Ian, I happen to be running a Journalism Competition of my own which should hopefully satisfy Gordon's Competition Cravings (it has been quite a while since the last legitimate competition was run. I am, of course, discounting ScroogeMcDuck's botch-job). I hope this will remove any urges Gordon might feel for making an attempt at running a Competitive Writing Competition or something dangerous like that.

Don Ian, yours are wise words.  In the street speaking game, sometimes ya win.  Often ya don't.

I won't be walking down the contentious path. 

Ian listened to Harold speaking. 
 

“Harold, I have nothing to say about anyone else’s endeavours in this. If you or anyone else cares to host some kind of competition, for whatever rewards, have at it. My concerns here are limited to my member and the agreement we made. I’m only concerned that he, specifically, doesn’t slip back into the role of corrosive nuance.”

Noting Gordon’s input, he smiled and looked back at Harold. 
 

“And despite the wobble, it appears we’re still I the right track.“

Experiment. Everyone should experiment. Put on the lab coats!

I was very experimental in my younger days. Men or women. Men AND women. Men and men. Women and women. Men and men and women and women. Men, women, men, women. Man, man, man, man, woman. Woman, woman, woman, woman, man. Man, woman, man, woman, man, woman, man, woman, woman, man, man, woman, man, man, man, woman. Swings. Ropes. Gags. Buckles on hats. Leather. Fingerless gloves. Whips. Sometimes we'd all finish and do 45 minutes of 5-a-side afterwards. 1-2-1 diamond, get those fingerless gloves over to the keeper. The game is more technical on a smaller pitch, so you send the speed merchants over to the other side and have portly George on your team completely in the buff Cruyff-turning around the center of the field like the nude uncle of a Renaissance cherub. You could do a bit of tongue or hand stuff on the bench, or afterwards, but we're all quite tired by then. Get some electrolytes in and get home. More experimenting to do tomorrow. 

Clamtubularagula are you the mastermind behind the recent takedown? Did you puppeteer it to free up a city in order to clear the way for Conceptualist's dystopian dream, just so you could relive those hedonistic glory days of your youth? (which, I might add, you have described in such vivid detail that I feel the urgent need to take a shower to shake this feeling of filth off me)

A lot of things are starting to make sense now. The plot thickens.