The Republic of Touching Grass 38 is a massive, environmentally stunning nation, remarkable for its disturbing lack of elderly people, punitive income tax rates, and suspicion of poets. The hard-nosed, cynical, humorless, devout population of 4.834 billion Touching Grass 38ians are ruled without fear or favor by a psychotic dictator, who outlaws just about everything and refers to the populace as "my little playthings."

The medium-sized, corrupt, socially-minded, well-organized government juggles the competing demands of Defense, Law & Order, and Industry. It meets to discuss matters of state in the capital city of 38. The average income tax rate is 54.6%.

The all-consuming Touching Grass 38ian economy, worth 619 trillion 38s a year, is driven entirely by a combination of government and state-owned industry, with private enterprise illegal. However, for those in the know, there is a large, well-organized, broadly diversified black market in Arms Manufacturing, Tourism, Information Technology, and Book Publishing. The private sector mostly consists of enterprising ten-year-olds selling lemonade on the sidewalk, but the government is looking at stamping this out. Average income is an impressive 128,078 38s, and evenly distributed, with the richest citizens earning only 3.6 times as much as the poorest.

Citizens can freely debate whether Leader is a great leader or the greatest leader, colonists who were promised new lands find only war-torn devastation, overly distant dads are conscripted into national nappy service, and they say the best compromise leaves everyone feeling a little unarmed. Crime, especially youth-related, is totally unknown, thanks to a capable police force and progressive social policies in education and welfare. Touching Grass 38's national animal is the 38, which frolics freely in the nation's many lush forests.

Touching Grass 38 is ranked 22,992^nd in the world and 105^th in The Funian Puppet Region for Largest Black Market, with 140 trillion Standard Monetary Units.