The People's Republic of Velardland is a huge, genial nation, remarkable for its state-planned economy, punitive income tax rates, and suspicion of poets. The compassionate, cynical population of 379 million Velardians are ruled with an iron fist by the dictatorship government, which ensures that no-one outside the party gets too rich. In their personal lives, however, citizens are relatively unoppressed; it remains to be seen whether this is because the government genuinely cares about its people, or if it hasn't gotten around to stamping out civil rights yet.

The enormous, socially-minded, well-organized government juggles the competing demands of Defense, Administration, and Education. It meets to discuss matters of state in the capital city of Springfield. The average income tax rate is 69.5%, and even higher for the wealthy.

The sizeable but underdeveloped Velardlandian economy, worth 15.0 trillion Sucres a year, is driven entirely by a combination of government and state-owned industry, with private enterprise illegal. The industrial sector, which is fairly diversified, is led by the Beef-Based Agriculture industry, with major contributions from Arms Manufacturing, Cheese Exports, and Book Publishing. Average income is 39,576 Sucres, and distributed extremely evenly, with practically no difference between the richest and poorest citizens.

Annual Formula One races bring the capital to a screeching halt, revolutionaries only deal in CyanCatCoin, a suspicious number of male students have joined the Ladies' Wrestling League, and even the nation's brussel sprouts are delicious and nutritious. Crime, especially youth-related, is totally unknown, thanks to a well-funded police force and progressive social policies in education and welfare. Velardland's national animal is the Capibara, which frolics freely in the nation's many lush forests.

Velardland is ranked 258,853^rd in the world and 5,864^th in The North Pacific for Most Cultured, scoring 61 on the Snufflebottom-Wiggendum Pentatonic Scale.