Time to Raise the Dead

I don't get out much... online that is. I get out plenty in the real world- because brains don't come to you, you need to go to them!

I digress.

Occasionally I like to fire up up the old magic box and take a stroll down the information walkway. I'll peek in here, read a little there, but very rarely do I make an appearance anywhere else online. I kind of have a mystique to keep up, you know? If kids thought that old Santa was a guy you see everyday there sure would be a few less offerings of milk n' cookies laid down at the hearths of hopeful homes holding out for holiday happiness.

I don't generally care for the cookies, but the milk often attracts a delicious cat or two for the taking. Cat's brains, while not filling, can be delightfully appetizing when you are in a hurry.

But where am I going with this diatribe? One of the sites that I used to visit has contracted a terminal case of apathy. No posts, and comments that are languishing in moderation. For shame! What we need is a good old fashioned raising of the dead. A voodoo hootenanny, where we roll the old bones out and make 'em dance with supernatural fervor.

I can't do it alone. I beg you to visit this site. Leave a comment imploring the author to post again. To wake from his slumber. Do it for me. Do it for the children. Do it for the creeping undead flesh of blogs that fall by the wayside every day!

RAISE ME FROM THE DEAD!

EDIT: It worked! He lives!

All work and no play...

I'm sure you assume that my rotund shape is due to the fact that I only work 1 day out of the year.

Most people assume that I spend 364 days out of the year sitting on my kiester watching the workers in my elf sweatshop to produce entertainment goods for spoiled children that have managed to convince themselves that they were good. (Despite all of the horrible things that they have done, and all of the lies that they told to those that they loved these children still thought of themselves as worthy of some kind of gift to celebrate their "goodness". I digress.)

I have a softer side. From earlier post, you see I like to read and engage in playful games in a simulation of the inevitable undead apocalypse. Little did you know that I also have a penchant for the licensed TV drama spinoff re-imagining themed boardgame. Come into the drawing room and sit for a while, as I regale you with stories of light-hearted playfulness in the world of a mini-series/soap opera.

Truly, this is a bonding experience- the game is co-operative! Each player is one member of a group working to help humanity escape the clutches of a brutal group of evil robots (that they created to be helpers! such bad robots!) and find your long lost brethren. You're all working together to help reunite family!

Unless one or more of you are actually evil robots in disguise.

This game is built on paranoia, fear and deception. Add in the frequent result of all of mankind's extinction and you have yourself an absolute lock for best family game of the decade. Don't like the fact that your dad is always telling you to how to play? Convince your mother and sister that dad purposely played his turn poorly, or is so inept that he was lucky to have reproduced, and so he must be a Cylon . Throw him in the brig and strip him of his presidency so that you can take the title and help win the game for the humans!

You may get grounded, but when Dad sees you announce that you are, in actuality, a Cylon and then proceed to dash the hopes of the humans you will know that true joy that comes with the crushing defeat of others. Your father will hopefully see that he managed to defy genetics to produce one of the finest minds of your generation. Nah, the guy totally misplayed that nuke when he was Admiral- what a loser.

Think of the Children

Greetings, kiddies! You've probably lost interest in all of the wonderful toys that I delivered about a month ago (I know when you've been bad and good, as well as when you are ungrateful) and are looking for something fun to do. If you are a child that is anything other than a sniveling momma's boy, that fun most likely involves something that can be considered dangerous to either your physical or mental health. You precious little snowflake, you.

Why does this interest good ol' Zombie Santa?

Because of your natural curiosity, well intentioned adults will be swayed into making very poor decisions by those who act in the name of "the children."

• A ban on fatty foods? Sure, it's for the good of the children who can't help but stuff their faces with snacks.
• Want to play with a Jart? Can't have that, since someone might get impaled. We can't expect children to play safely. Too bad, sucker!
• Feel like reading a good book? Sorry, it has language that might damage our dainty flower's mind and make them act violently, promiscuously, or question authority. Tsk, tsk.
• Video games? VIDEO GAMES?!? Don't talk to me about video games!!!

Let me lay out some common sense from beyond the grave:

Life is hard. It isn't fair. And sometimes, you get hurt.

This is a good thing. Failure is the greatest teacher that you will ever have. If you try and hide from it, you will only prolong the inevitable and increase the calamity that you are trying to avoid. Sheltering your darling little child from the real world will ensure only one thing- that your child will be a malformed adult that is incapable of dealing with the real world. That's what childhood is supposed to be about- it is training for adulthood.

So open up, world! The best thing that you can do as a parent is to take responsibility for raising your child and helping that child become a functional, productive adult. You are the resource to help that child understand why you feel certain things are right and others are wrong. If you pretend that bad things don't exist, don't be surprised when your immature adult child is attracted to it once they are out on their own.

Don't believe me? Try this fun exercise: google the bios of porn stars (I'm sure you've already found their names and pictures, *wink* *nudge*) and see how many of them were raised in sheltered households by overbearing parents that tried to hide the "bad, sinful" stuff from their child.

Just stay away from the furry porn. It's scary, and should be banned. Think of the children!

(Art by Jason Chan. Buy his stuff.)
(EDIT: Jason Chan's print is now available to purchase)