Riga, the capital of Latvia, has taken a bold leap into uncharted political territory by declaring independence from itself. The scheme, humorously dubbed 'Operation Delayed Trams' by locals, was announced Tuesday by Riga City Council in an effort to alleviate both traffic congestion and the persistent existential crisis over winter pothole management.

Speaking at a press conference, Mayor Anete Potapova explained the unprecedented decision, 'We've realized that governing ourselves under the pressures of a classic city structure hasn't really been 'coasting nicely.' By declaring independence from, well, being us, we aim to achieve unprecedented focus on innovating our infrastructure—the kind that doesn't get mired in jurisdictional potholes.' Plans for the new self-governed region of 'Riga Prime' were enthusiastically unveiled, including an ambitious proposal to synchronize all city clocks using the collegiate squirrel society of Esplanāde Park.

This bold maneuver comes after a comprehensive survey revealed that 73% of Rigan citizens were in favor of any plan—no matter how absurd—as long as the city could finally keep its trams running on time. A harried commuter, Tomass Liepiņš, expressed his support, 'If a little self-secession can get me to Zasulauks without a 20-minute wait at the stop, then long live Riga Prime!'

To stir the democratic pot further, the newly appointed Prime Minister of Riga Prime, former tap dancer turned urban planner, Egīls Žagariņš, outlined his controversial first policy initiative, 'ReFerendtastic: The First Referendum.' The citizens of Riga Prime will vote on which animal should become the vehicle to transport official government documents between the Parliament and City Council offices. So far, the frontrunners for the position include a highly motivated carrier pigeon named Gustavs and an elderly dachshund with a proven record in punctuality, nicknamed 'Fast 'n Bassy.'

Critics claim the controversial decision to bifurcate the city stems from pressure to meet European Union standards in an unconventional manner. However, City Council members insist this move is purely about reinventing governance to cater to modern needs. 'We’re not just doing this for the occasional headline-grabbing buzz,' Council Member Signa Grāvīte remarked. 'This is about redefining what's possible when bureaucracy meets creative interpretation. It's about letting the city be its own quirky, slightly confused, and incredibly resilient best self.'

Meanwhile, tourism in the newly self-sovereign territory seems poised to capitalize on its novelty. The local government is already hard at work rebranding 'The Three Brothers,' now 'The Five-and-a-Half Cousins,' though one such cousin is curiously located in the popular tourist spot hot spring.

The European Union, typically known for its long rules, is reportedly 'keeping a curious eye' on the situation, with one anonymous source mentioning over a plate of sauerkraut and sausages, 'It's not every day you see a city attempt to matrix its way through administration, jurisprudence, and tram logistics at the same time. But here we are.'

As the first day of independence prompts half-filled tram carts to cheerfully rumble past haphazard sidewalk construction, Riga citizens settle into their new, autonomous norm. Whether this brave new socio-political experiment flourishes or crumbles faster than a wet saldskābmaize remains to be seen. For now, in the winter-sprinkled skyline of Riga, anything seems possible.