As the High Lord of N Scale your correspondent does sometimes look for comfort in the speeches of Benito Mussolini. He doesn't have Benito's chin, nor an astonishing capacity to gesticulate, and is very reluctant to end his days hanging from a lamp post in somewhere like Saint Barbara's Halt. Nonetheless the call to greatness courses through the veins, and so what if he does occasionally cut himself with an xacto knife and spends hours pulling up and re-laying track and gets very confused around the difference between AC and DC, and will probably never understand how to wire a Toggle Switch and it might be a good idea to invest in a fire extinguisher.
For those of us who hear the call of fate and interpret it as our personal
destiny one sad rule to keep in mind is never read more than one History Book,
stick to the Hollywood Bodice Ripping Talking Picture versions, they're far less
effort and much more fun. Otherwise you might find out that pretty much
always the Populist Leader of Men first gathers his admirers, fires them into a
condition of plasticity and then to maintain such an unnatural state chooses to
invade somewhere like Abyssinia which inevitably leads to a very sticky end for
a great many of us. Even a little bit of wisdom is a huge burden and at today's
committee meeting I will be informing Saint Barbara's Militia they can have a
Rowing Boat but they can't have a U-Boat. So wish me luck.