Text 4744, 127 rader
Skriven 2006-12-07 16:18:00 av Greg Sears
Ärende: Merry Christmas
=======================
                  RAPE, PILLAGE, MURDER AND FATHER CHRISTMAS

By the time you read this it may well be too late, I only hope that my
warning reaches you all in time.  What I have to say may shock you, it
may even disturb those of you with a weak disposition (anyone liable to
heart attacks should go on to the next joke immediately or suffer the
dire consequences).  I can barely bring myself to write this but maybe
if I start at the beginning I can work my way up to the bitter,
disgusting end without breaking down in tears myself.

As most of you surely realize by now Father Christmas or Santa Claus as
he's often called is not real, no wait that's not the scandal.  For
years young children have believed however that Father Christmas does
exist and it is this belief knowingly perpetuated by the parents of the
young throughout the world that has caused a disaster of equivalent
proportions to that of the great LA dope famine of '89.

Imagine if you will, a world, a world not dissimilar to our own, now on
this world the adults do not take their children seriously, oh no
instead of trusting their offspring and treating them with respect and
kindness the adults of this world  treat them as if they were stupid.
The grown ups of this planet, let us call it planet X, often tell their
own kids who they brought into the world, world X if you will, lies, not
only this but they do it so much and in such a convincing way that the
children eventually believe the vicious untruths that they are being
told, how could they do otherwise. Here we have the two people in the
universe that these children think they can trust out of anyone,
anywhere, of course they will believe what they are being told.

Now, keeping that in mind bear with me while I tell you of magic.  Not
the magic of books and films, hocus pocus turn you into a frog and
smoking boots rubbish, but the magic of the mind.

The magic of imagination.  On one particular night of the year, every
year, only on planet X of course, this magic grows in power and great
swirls of raw magical energy swirl about planet X.  Magic of course has
become weak and mostly disfunctional as the more rational people in the
population soon become aware of its powers and tried with all their
strength to eradicate it due to the chaos and destruction that magic
could cause.

Of course magic could be used for good as well but these rational,
sensible people decided that the risk was too great and each of them
signed in blood a pledge saying that he would gladly give up his life if
only to achieve the aim of destroying all magic for ever.  But, on this
one night of the year the magic swells up and it becomes impossible for
the sensible intelligent people to control it lest they are destroyed
for all time, unleashing the magic's awesome powers upon the universe,
universe X that is.  Of course amazing incredible things happen on this
day for example a saviour could be born who could (if it happened of
course) unite a community and create one of the strongest religions of
all time, of course bad things happen as well but these were quickly
forgotten, although not by the rational people, they never forgot.

Picture the scene a world of happiness where there is little sorrow for
the young of the privileged and plenty of time for their imagination to
run riot.  All these children and all those imaginations.  What could
happen if all those minds were focused on one thing whilst the magic was
free. Well of course it would come true, that's right for this one night
those lies so innocently told would become reality.  A scary prospect as
you can doubtless see.  Or maybe not I will explain some more.

Say, for example, that the special day was Christmas Eve and the lies
told by the parents were of one such as Father Christmas well obviously
Father Christmas would cease to be an imaginary person on this day and
become real. Now knowing that the magic likes to warp things in its own
special way, we begin to see the problem.  Think about it here we have a
fat man who is always cheered up when he is around children, hmmmm.  He
likes to make children sit on his knee, hmmmm.  He has a huge beard and
so you can never see his facial expressions when any of these things are
happening.  He lives in the North Pole all year except for one day when
he is allowed to leave. He carries a sack, but what is in that sack,
toys?  I think not.  He ties reindeer to a sleigh and the reindeer try
so  hard to get away from the man that they learn to fly in an attempt
to escape.  Note he doesn't need a whip of any kind to induce this fear.
Yes by now I think its becoming obvious, on this one night Father
Christmas becomes real but does  he spend his one night of life giving
toys to little kids, no, he spends it raping small children, burning
down whole villages, blowing innocent women and children to bits and
sexually abusing reindeer.  Not only this but he employs midgets to do
his dirty work for him whilst he's living it up.  Then, and this is the
worst bit he alters the minds of those whose lives he has destroyed so
that they produce Christmas cards with jolly little pictures of the evil
man himself on the front, trying to spread the falsehood that he is good
and kind, and inside (here we tell you of the absolute pinnacle of hate,
the most vile thing anyone could ever do), inside we find poems not
merely lines of rhyming prose but in fact terrible, heinous ditties with
no rhythm, absurdly stretched end rhymes and (I can barely bring myself
to type it) multiple exclamation marks.

Of course this couldn't happen here this isn't real it could only happen
on planet X.  Could it, or could it, or could it, OR COULD IT, OR COULD
IT...

No, no, let go I don't want to wear a canvas jacket, the rational people
will prevail, let go, we are the sane ones you are all mad, no I don't
need the optional long sleeves, leave me alone I don't like bouncy
wallpaper it tastes of triangles MmMmm MMM mmmm mm.

Whenever the wardens let me out I like to dictate letters to them and
they'll send them off for me (they won't give me any pens because of
what I might do with them), so if you want to mailtrade with a beginner
with a sense of humour then write to this address:

     Her Majesties Mental Asylum
     for the dangerously insane,
          302, Minster Road,
               Minster,
               Sheppey,
                Kent.
              ME123NR



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      /     \    09 December 06    /     \
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