The Republic of Rocketfuel59 is a colossal, safe nation, notable for its pith helmet sales, avowedly heterosexual populace, and suspicion of poets. The compassionate, hard-working, cynical population of 2.91 billion Rocketfuel59ians, 2.768 billion of whom are zombies, are highly moralistic and fiercely conservative, in the sense that they tend to believe most things should be outlawed. People who have good jobs and work quietly at them are lauded; others are viewed with suspicion.

The large government juggles the competing demands of Industry, Defense, and Education. The average income tax rate is 56.2%.

The frighteningly efficient Rocketfuel59ian economy, worth 304 trillion Rocketfuels a year, is quite specialized and led by the Uranium Mining industry, with major contributions from Woodchip Exports, Arms Manufacturing, and Furniture Restoration. State-owned companies are common. Average income is 63,429 Rocketfuels, and evenly distributed, with the richest citizens earning only 3.6 times as much as the poorest.

Radio stations are forbidden to play anything with too much drum or bass, back-alley circumcision clinics are popping up all over the nation, immersive video game experiences are interrupted by incessant disclaimer pop-ups, and Leader's Dreadnought-class tankbuster limousine is said to have more ammunition than the entire Brancalandian Army. Crime, especially youth-related, is totally unknown, thanks to a very well-funded police force and progressive social policies in education and welfare. Rocketfuel59's national animal is the Rocketfuel, which teeters on the brink of extinction due to widespread deforestation.

Rocketfuel59 is ranked 284,944^th in the world and 927^th in neck for Highest Foreign Aid Spending, scoring -7.07 on the Clooney Contribution Index.