Slovakia
Szlovák Népi Demokratikus Köztársaság, orosz műhold The Evil Slovak State | |||
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| Motto: "Go back where ya came from" | |||
| Anthem: "Take on me" by a-ha | |||
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| Capital | Bras in lava | ||
| Largest city | Bras in lava again | ||
| Official language(s) | Some random crap | ||
| Government | Puppet of the Russia | ||
| ‑ | Powerless loser | ||
| Declaration of Independence | Never | ||
| Currency | dog crap | ||
| Religion | Jebus | ||
| Area | three | ||
Hey there! Did You know I'm from Slovakia? It's a small country in Central Europe (although some think it's in Eastern Europe, how silly and uninformed of them. Truly an amusing, yet good hearted misunderstanding.) Well anyway, Slovakia is really good. You should visit it sometime. It exists! Did you know I'm from there? Did I tell you that? But back to the point! Slovakia has a lot of beautiful mountains, hills, rivers and valleys, making it the perfect place to go hiking! We also have the most castles per capita, and a lot of really interesting and cool caves! Still not interested? Please! We have Halušky! That's a delicious folk food! No! Don't click off! We have, uhhhh, beautiful women! Please don't forget about us! PLEASE!
Calm down. Ok, ok. I'll leave the rest of the article to you.
History[edit | edit source]
Slovakia, or should ve say, Szlovákia, da land zat always felt like it vas standing felvidék, caught in ze middle of great empires, but mostly just serving as pufferzóna. Once, long ago, before ze Magyars and Austrians took it for granted, it vas a land of shepherds and halušky enthusiasts.
First, came da Habsburgok, ruling with their birodalom, stretching dere fat fingers over half of Europe, including poor Slovakia, or should we say, Felvidék—as da Hungarians kindly called it. Hungary vas ze big brother Slovakia never asked for, and Magyarország loved to tell dem vhat to do, like a pesky sibling. But da Slovaks, zey kept to themselves, speaking a language zat sounds like Czech got into a bar fight with Polish after drinking too much pálinka.
Ahh, zen came ze Czechoslovakia era—Slovakia’s great házasság of convenience with ze Czechs. Ve all know it vasn’t a match made in mennyország (heaven). No, no, ze Czechs did all ze serious vork—building industry, running ze government, inventing useful things—while ze Slovaks sat quietly in ze mountains, making sheep cheese and wondering vhy zey don’t get to drive da car. "Vy can’t ve be in charge for once?" zey asked, and ze Czechs, vithout missing a beat, said, "Because ve’re da only ones who know vhat ve’re doing."
Fast forward to World War II, and Slovakia, always da opportunist, found itself cozying up to Náci Németország . Under da brilliant leadership of Jozef Tiso, a priest who probably shouldn’t have ventured into politics, Slovakia became a bábállam of Hitler. "Vy not?" zey thought. "Ve’ve never been in charge of our own country before, let’s try zis fascism thing!" Spoiler alert: it didn’t go vell.
After ze war, Slovakia’s brief moment of függetlenség vas over faster zan you can say borovička, and in came da Szovjetunió (Soviet Union) to save ze day—by turning everything into beton and making sure no one had any fun. Ze Slovaks might have hoped for freedom, but instead, zey got a centrally planned economy zat could barely produce a functioning autó.
And zen, after decades of communism’s glorious szürkeség, came da Velvet Revolution in 1989, a lovely little uprising zat didn’t really involve much fighting. But even after shaking off ze Soviets, Slovakia vas still playing second fiddle to da Czechs. Naturally, da válás vas next on da agenda. And so, in 1993, Slovakia finally got its chance for függetlenség, vith da Bársonyos válás. No var, no drama—just two neighbors politely packing dere bags and moving out of ze shared apartment.
Today, Slovakia is free (not really), but vith a history like zat, it’s no vonder everyone confuses zem vith Szlovénia.
Economy[edit | edit source]
Today's Slovak economy—or should ve say, a pénz nélküli katasztrófa! Let’s be honest, Slovakia isn’t exactly riding high on the wave of global innovation and industry. No, no, instead, it’s more like sitting quietly in ze corner vhile ze németek run ze show and mezőgazdaság barely keeps da lights on.
Take a look at BAZ (Bratislavské Automobilové Závody), once da proud manufacturer of Škoda cars zat vere famous for being about as reliable as a drunk Slovak politician. Now? It’s owned by Volkswagen, of course! Ze németek took over, cleaned up ze mess, and now BAZ makes actual cars zat vork, unlike before, vhen driving a Škoda vas a gamble vith your life. Sure, Slovaks vork in da factory, but it’s német precízió keeping da machines humming.
And vhat about ZTS Martin, once da shining star of Slovak industry, cranking out tankok and vonatok for da Soviets? Well, zat ship has sailed, or should ve say, elsüllyedt. ZTS Martin, once a mighty producer of heavy machinery, is now nothing but a rusting graveyard of failed projects and broken promises. Ze factories zat once made tanks now make semmiség. Zey couldn’t even pivot to making tractors or anything useful, just csődbe ment , like most things in ze Slovak economy after ze fall of kommunizmus.
And vhat’s left? Ahh, da földek, da ever-reliable mezőgazdaság! Yes, vhen all else fails, Slovakia can still rely on its vast paraszti földek. Growing krumpli, káposzta, and whatever else ze soil can manage to produce in this delightful climate. It’s not glamorous, but at least ze Slovaks can always make halušky to drown dere economic sorrows. If it weren’t for mezőgazdaság, half da country vould starve—or worse, end up vorking in Austria’s fields instead!
Politics[edit | edit source]
Slovak politics is the true pinnacle of modern democracy, run by a mix of drunkards, flat-earthers, and card-carrying Nazis. It’s like a reality show, but with more pálenka and fewer brains. The entire system is essentially one big puppet theater, with strings being pulled by the Kremlin, which is, of course, delighted to have a cast of idiots willing to perform.
Every politician has two basic skills: the ability to down a bottle of borovička in record time and the uncanny talent to blame Hungarians for anything and everything. Lost your job? Hungarians. Roads falling apart? Hungarians. Global warming? Definitely Hungarians! I mean, who else but our southern neighbors could possibly be responsible for the sorry state of our beautiful Slovak homeland?
And let’s not forget the classic flat-Earth debate in parliament, because why not? Who needs science when you’ve got Facebook memes and YouTube videos to guide you? “The Earth is flat,” says the local representative, a man whose intellectual prowess rivals that of a stale loaf of bread. “And vaccines are a Western conspiracy to turn us into robots controlled by 5G towers.” But hey, at least he's patriotic!
Meanwhile, the opposition is no better. They all claim to stand for democracy, but what they really stand for is fighting over who can be the first to ban Hungarians from eating halušky. Their solutions to complex problems? More flags! More patriotic marches! Less EU, more pálenka! After all, nothing says competent governance like waving a flag while drunk at 2 p.m. on a Tuesday.
And then, of course, there's the grand plan to "reclaim sovereignty" by alienating everyone and cozying up to Russia. Because what could be a better strategy for a small landlocked country in Central Europe than sucking up to the Kremlin? Clearly, having a puppet government that takes orders from Moscow will solve everything.
In the end, the country gets to choose between a puppet show featuring clowns or a puppet show featuring even worse clowns. Whether the strings are being pulled by vodka-soaked Kremlin hands or conspiracy theorists who think the moon landing was staged, one thing is certain: Slovak politics stands proudly as an example of what happens when a nation collectively drinks itself into a coma.
Military[edit | edit source]
the Slovak army, where military prowess meets bazár, and modernizáció seems to be just a rumor. It's an army that proudly guards the nation with a mix of antique felszerelések that even the most ambitious gyűjtő wouldn't want. Now, let’s dive into their glorious arsenal, shall we? Grab some popcorn, or maybe pálinka, because this is going to be an interesting utazás.
Main Firearm: vz. 58[edit | edit source]
Total number: 22,000
This bad boy was first introduced in 1958, and no, they haven’t frissítette it much since then. It’s like that trusty old bicikli in your garage—works just fine, but you wouldn’t take it to a Tour de France. Despite being a reliable gun, it still boasts its signature fából készült stock, as if Slovakia was preserving it for some future történelmi film about the Cold War. Other countries are using modular rifles with high-tech optikák, but Slovakia is all about that vintage look. After all, who needs modernizáció when you’ve got retro charm?
Standard Pistol: ČZ vz. 82[edit | edit source]
Total number: 10,000
Ah, the ČZ vz. 82—Slovakia’s standard-issue old-school handgun, straight out of the golden age of szocializmus. With a design dating back to 1982, this pistol is kicsit retró, but reliable enough for those situations where you need to shoot someone just close enough. It fires the 9mm Makarov round, the same caliber that the Soviets loved, because why change anything when the world already knows and fears this legendary puskalőszer? Forget your fancy Glocks, SIG Sauers, or Berettas; Slovakia is perfectly happy to stick with this Cold War-era relic. After all, it’s not like they’ll be using it often, right?
The ČZ vz. 82 is compact, built to last, and even comes with a kalapács biztosíték, which is a fancy way of saying “don't drop it, or it might visszalő.” It has a 12-round magazine, which is actually megfelelő—you'll need all 12 rounds to remind your enemies that you’re still here and still committed to megmenteni Slovakia from total destruction... provided the bad guys are standing within 15 meters.
Main Battle Tanks: T-72M1[edit | edit source]
Total number: 30 (usable), plus another 100 in tárolás, collecting dust
Ah, the büszkeség of the Slovak armored division! These beasts rolled off the szovjet assembly line sometime in the 1980s and have been rolling—well, slowly—ever since. Their harcképesség? Somewhere between “you can survive” and “pray the enemy is feeling generous.” Most of these tanks haven’t been upgraded since they left the factory, so they lack modern páncélzat and fire control systems. You might get lucky and actually hit something... eventually. In a harc situation, they might perform about as well as an old Zetor traktor.
Leopard 2A4s[edit | edit source]
Total number: 15
Slovakia, to keep things érdekes, added a few Leopard 2s to the mix. Now, these are legit tigrisek on the battlefield—if you can get them to actually start. With only 15 of these beauties, it’s more of a luxuskiadás than a real erő. It’s like Slovakia walked into a tank dealership, bought just enough to say, "Hey, look, we’re fancy now!" but not enough to make a difference in an actual háború. If they all work on the same day, it’s a cause for national celebration.
Fighter Jets: MiG-29[edit | edit source]
Total number: 11 (though many are probably szétszerelt for parts)
The Slovak Air Force is flying into the future with the MiG-29... the future of 1984. These szovjet korszak jets may have been cutting-edge during the Cold War, but nowadays, they’re more like flying időkapszula. With most repülőgépek grounded for repairs or spare parts, Slovakia’s air defense strategy is more about hoping the weather will be bad enough that nobody bothers attacking. Oh, and the pilóták? Well, at least they get to work on their stress-tűrő képesség, given how often these things break down.
Helicopters: Mi-17 and Mi-24[edit | edit source]
Total number: 10 Mi-17s and 9 Mi-24s
Ah, the Mi-17, the trusty flying bádogdoboz, used for transport, search and rescue, and maybe even buli flights when NATO visitors come by. Slovakia has about 10 of these multi-purpose helicopters, all probably wondering why they haven’t been retired yet. As for the Mi-24, Slovakia still has about 9 of these régi attack helicopters, perfect for intimidating wildlife in the Tatras but slightly less effective when compared to, say, an Apache. You know, because Slovakia doesn’t do modern.
Armored Personnel Carriers: BVP-1, BVP-2[edit | edit source]
Total number: 140
These lándzsahegyek of Slovakia’s mechanized infantry are straight out of your favorite 1970s military dokumentumfilm. The BVPs, lovingly referred to as csapatszállítók, still trundle along the roads, powered by the sheer force of nostalgia. Sure, they’re as vulnerable as a papírzacskó in a rainstorm, but hey, they were built in the golden days of szocializmus, so what could possibly go wrong?
Anti-Tank Capabilities: RPG-7[edit | edit source]
Total number: 500
Oh yes, Slovakia’s anti-tank strategy? A tried and true RPG-7. It’s the ultimate Soviet-era tűzcső for taking out enemy vehicles... assuming those vehicles aren’t moving very fast and you’re lucky enough to get a good hit. It’s like using a slingshot in a légi harc. If Slovakia ever found itself in a modern harctér, these RPG-7s would be about as effective as a drunk kacsa trying to take down a F-22.
Sniper Rifles: Dragunov SVD[edit | edit source]
Total number: 200
Now, when you’re dealing with enemy forces that are too far for the vz. 58 to reach, Slovakia rolls out the Dragunov SVD. Introduced in 1963, the Dragunov is the kind of mesterlövész rifle that was revolutionary—when the Beatles were still topping the charts. It’s reliable, accurate enough for picking off enemies at mid-range, but let's be real—if you're facing modern snipers with their fancy optics, Slovakia's Dragunov szemüveg isn’t going to do much more than make some nice lövés zajok.
Artillery: Dana 152mm Self-Propelled Howitzers[edit | edit source]
Total number: 30
Ah, the Dana—Slovakia’s büszkeség in artillery. These lövegek have seen action in... well, not much recently. They’re decent in terms of tűzerő, but the technology behind them dates back to when your parents were listening to disco.
Global Military Ranking[edit | edit source]
Somewhere around 130th place out of 145
In the great világranglista of military might, Slovakia comes in just above countries that don’t actually have an army. It’s like being in the bottom tier of a video game leaderboard, somewhere between "might have a chance if they get lucky" and "can be defeated by a mildly organized boy scout troop." You know, right there in the “please don’t invade us, we have nice mountains and borovička” category.
In Conclusion[edit | edit source]
So, while the rest of the world is rolling out high-tech drones, stealth jets, and advanced páncélozott vehicles, Slovakia is clinging to its szovjet örökség, hoping that nobody notices they’re still using felszerelés that should probably be in a museum. NATO and the EU have been kindly mosolygó, offering modernization funds, but Slovakia has been too busy organizing borovička tastings and blaming the Hungarians for everything.
In conclusion, Slovakia’s military erő is about as modern as a fából készült kocsi, but hey, they’ve got szív. And as long as nobody invades on a Tuesday afternoon—when half the tanks might actually start and the MiG pilots aren’t busy fixing their planes—everything should be just rendben!
Culture[edit | edit source]
Slovak culture is like a perfectly baked loaf of bread—except the government keeps slicing off all the interesting parts, leaving only the crust, and maybe a little crumb if you’re lucky. Let’s break it down: at its core, Slovakia has the potential for rich, diverse culture, full of creative minds, rebellious spirits, and modern perspectives. But alas, much of that potential is carefully managed (read: censored) to ensure no one steps too far out of line.
Let’s start with literature. Want to write a gritty novel exploring political corruption, societal decay, or the existential dread of living in a post-communist, semi-capitalist reality? Forget it. You're better off writing about cows grazing in the hills or a nice, safe historical drama from a time no one remembers—or better yet, nobody cares about. Anything too reflective or critical just gets lost in the bureaucratic abyss, where manuscripts mysteriously vanish, and by “vanish,” I mean they’re banned or “strongly recommended” to change course. Basically, if you’re not writing the literary equivalent of a tourist brochure, your book’s chances of seeing daylight are slim.
In terms of music, the landscape is just as bleak. On one side, you’ve got the folk scene, which is...charming, if you’ve ever wanted to attend a concert where everyone is dressed like it’s 1890 and the hottest topic of the night is whether the sheep made it safely through the mountains. On the other hand, there’s the pop music scene, which appears to be stuck in a time loop, as if 90s Eurodance never ended. Slovak radio plays the same six songs on a loop, none of which you’ll remember by the time they’re over, and somehow every singer sounds like they're auditioning for the role of "generic Eurovision contestant."
Now, let’s talk about Slovak cinema. Or should we? Because most of it is either cheap rom-coms with laughably low stakes or historical epics where half the budget went to renting horses. If you’re hoping for bold, avant-garde cinema, you’ll find it shelved indefinitely under "future releases," right next to the list of reforms that never happened. And don’t even think about making anything remotely controversial or politically daring—those films are quietly “not selected” for funding, which means they don’t exist.
As for visual art, let’s just say that Slovakia has a talent for celebrating the past. Museums are overflowing with folk art, traditional costumes, and paintings of people who look like they’ve been posing awkwardly for hours. Modern art, meanwhile, struggles to get recognition unless it’s so abstract that no one can interpret it as a critique of the status quo. If an artist does manage to produce something thought-provoking, chances are it’ll be seen by 12 people in an underground gallery, and three of them are there by accident.
Public discourse? Well, freedom of speech technically exists, but the lines between saying what you want and getting heavily scrutinized are razor-thin. Criticizing the government or established institutions is like playing cultural Russian roulette—one wrong move, and your career takes a sudden, irreversible nosedive. And don’t even mention satire in the public sphere; anything too sharp or biting is swiftly dullened by “requests” to “stay respectful.” Translation: don’t embarrass the state, or they’ll make sure you regret it.
And then there’s national identity. Slovakia has perfected the art of being deeply proud of... well, nothing anyone can quite agree on. Is it the majestic mountains? The hearty food? The folk traditions? Sure, all those things are celebrated to death, but ask anyone under 30 if that’s what makes them feel Slovak, and you’ll be met with a confused shrug. The younger generation, when not busy emigrating, often feels disconnected from the glorified nostalgia that the official narrative tries to sell.
Cultural events are as predictable as the sunrise—fairs, folk festivals, and celebrations of long-dead saints, where everyone drinks the same beer, eats the same sausage, and listens to the same accordion music. It’s like Groundhog Day, but instead of breaking the cycle, everyone just pretends it’s fresh and exciting every year.
In conclusion, Slovak culture is a bit like an art gallery where half the exhibits are covered with black cloth, and the ones that are visible are mostly copies of the same rural landscape. You can look, but you’re not really allowed to see. If culture is meant to be a reflection of a nation’s soul, Slovakia’s is hiding behind layers of red tape, folk embroidery, and a carefully curated sense of nostalgia that stops just short of acknowledging reality.
Demographics[edit | edit source]
Slovakia is a nation state, meaning that it was made as an excuse to deport Hungarians and Germans from it's territory for replacement with a more Czech-alligned nationality, consisting mostly of extra-weird Moravians and Poles.
“I literally just did this to piss off the Austro-Hungarians”
In this quote you see the usual sentence-making mistakes of Czechs and therefore also their offshoot, the Slovaks
Why do they exist[edit | edit source]
Slovakia exists because of several reasons, but mostly because Južiánič Maďarovraž, the permanent God-president of the Czech Hegemony (the one with the 10K solar systems) decided it would be funny to make complete fools out of the second-largest empire in the world by destroying them and forcing each half to give independence to a Slov..ia of some sort. The Hungarians originally wanted to weasel out of this deal by exiling Slovaks to Transylvania and calling it "Translovakia". The Czechs reacted to this by kidnapping Transylvanian shepherds and putting them in Slovakia, further degenerating the already terrible Slovak culture. Among other inventions, these importees would later also create Halušky.
Slovakians typically get confused for nothing, and most people think they are trolling when they say this place exists. They love Russians, I think. Any country which copies another flag is clearly a fanboy for their conterpart.
