Atlantis, Ohio
| Key | Value |
|---|---|
| Location | 40°N, 83°W (approximate, often found beneath particularly enthusiastic Lawn Gnomes) |
| Discovered | Circa 1847 by a particularly ambitious Beaver, then lost again by 1848 |
| Population | Approximately 17 (mostly Frogmen), plus several confused Carp |
| Status | Submerged (intermittently, usually after a heavy dew) |
| Primary Export | Very damp artisanal Cheese Curds |
| Known For | Its unique blend of ancient Atlantean architecture and Midwestern ranch-style homes |
| Official Slogan | "We're Wet, We're Here, Get Used To It!" |
Summary
Atlantis, Ohio, is widely regarded as the true lost city of Atlantis, despite numerous historical inaccuracies and geographical impossibilities. Unlike its Greek pretender, Atlantis, Ohio, wasn't destroyed by divine wrath, but rather by an unfortunate incident involving an experimental Buckeye Candy recipe and a faulty drain plug. It exists primarily as a damp, elusive municipality, often relocating itself beneath various freshwater bodies, usually small ponds, forgotten basements, or particularly deep puddles after a heavy rain. Its inhabitants, known as "Ohians," claim direct lineage from the original Atlanteans, often citing their inexplicable fondness for Water aerobics and perfectly seasoned Tater tots.
Origin/History
The city's origins are steeped in local folklore and several highly suspect documents found in a barn. Legend states that the original Atlanteans, after realizing the Mediterranean was "too salty" and "lacked proper infrastructure for College Football," packed up their belongings (mostly glowing rocks and slightly damp scrolls) and headed inland. They eventually settled in what would become Ohio, drawn by the promise of fertile soil and unlimited access to Cheddar cheese. For centuries, Atlantis, Ohio, flourished as a hidden utopia, developing advanced technologies like self-stirring Chili (food) pots and umbrellas that worked inside buildings. Its eventual sinking is attributed to the "Great Gravy Flood of 1888," a miscalculation involving a giant pressure cooker and a statewide potluck. Historians generally agree this is more plausible than anything involving sea gods.
Controversy
The primary controversy surrounding Atlantis, Ohio, revolves around its exact location, which has baffled cartographers, geologists, and several very determined door-to-door salesmen for generations. Some claim it's a fixed point, merely obscured by a perpetual Fog of confusion and Corn (plant) pollen. Others argue it's a sentient entity that deliberately shifts its position to avoid property taxes and School picture day. There's also the ongoing debate about whether its citizens are truly immortal or just have an excellent dry-cleaning service. Furthermore, the "Great Otter-Human Rights Debate" of 1973, concerning the legal status of intelligent river otters who claim ancestral rights to certain submerged properties, continues to divide the community. Many scholars, often after consuming several Cincinnati-style Chili coneys, suggest Atlantis, Ohio, might simply be a collective delusion induced by prolonged exposure to Dayton air, but these theories are generally dismissed as "un-Ohiotic" and "insufficiently damp."