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Friday, December 9, 2011

Nurse the Hate: Hate The Elf On The Shelf



I must have been living in a fucking cave, because I just got hip to this “Elf On The Shelf” hustle. Several friends of mine have little kids that are completely out of control, almost like having a couple raccoons living in their home. They swear by this mass manufactured child mind control wonder product. To quickly review, The Elf On The Shelf is a plastic and fabric toy elf that was probably made in China by a bewildered political prisoner in shockingly deplorable conditions. It is then packaged with a book, which is read to the child, setting up the con that this rubber Elf has been adopted by the family, and has one task. This Elf is a snitch for Santa.

As a child, I can imagine the excitement about getting close to The Man himself, that asshole Santa (See “Hate Santa”). It’s like getting one heartbeat away from Elvis. You know the guy that knows the guy that makes all the magic happen. It seems intoxicating to be so close to greatness. To think that you will be building a personal relationship with an Elf that can take your direct message right to Santa himself is about as great a networking situation a six year old can find himself in. But after awhile it must sink in. You have willingly allowed Santa’s toadie into your home, and his sickening dead eyes will be staring at you, mercilessly logging all of your misdeeds and reporting straight back to the guy that controls your haul on Christmas morning.

The other thing that you have to keep your eye on is that the Elf moves every night, and is in a new spot every day. As the story goes, when the kid falls asleep, the Elf returns to the North Pole with a full report of what went on that day. He then goes back to the home in a different location to let the kid know "I told Santa everything that happened yesterday. Don't believe it? Yesterday I was on the bookcase. This morning I am on the mantle. How did that happen? Think about it Junior..." So, let’s recap. You are a six year old kid and when you go to sleep, a small creepy Elf with a never wavering sick smile is wandering your home. No matter how hard you try to stay awake to see the Elf move, you can never catch him. However, when you wake up, that little creep has somehow moved somewhere else in the house. And people wonder why kids have problems.

If left to my own devices, I think I could ramp up The Elf On The Shelf by ad libbing my way through the book/verbal contract. "Now Billy, the book continues and says"...every night I will go to the North Pole to tell Santa if little boys and girls have been good or bad. And if they have been bad, I will take my vengeance upon thee with swift merciless justice!!!". That will get their attention. Need to really get their attention? Let's say your child has been especially rambunctious one day. The move then would be to place a recently slaughtered chicken on the kid's bed in the morning. I would then cover the creepy Elf in blood, and leave him swinging on a string, looking down on the child and smiling. That bloody smiling Elf image is tough for a six year old to shake, knowing that if he acts up, a violent magic Elf may cut his throat from ear to ear.

I don't know if parents can be locked up for abusing children by using this horrible behavior modification device that was clearly designed by Nazi scientists in the early 1940s. I am not doubting its effectiveness, but rather wondering about the toll of the method. Parents seem to like it though. The monsters that manufacture these sell a shitload of them. Can it be stopped? Barnes and Noble are a powerful corporate force and can probably make dissenters "disappear" in unexplained auto accidents and boating mishaps. There's a lot of money at stake here. I'm just one man. All I know is that I'm glad I don't have to wake up every morning and wonder where a creepy Elf is and what exactly he told Santa about my degenerate activities.

Once again, fuck Santa and his legion of mind control toadies.

3 comments:

  1. That little elf may be in your closet right now, ready to steal your dreams and fill your eye sockets with saw dust while you sleep.

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  2. When I was a kid, our house was full of those fucking things. Stashed all over the house like STASI Easter eggs..watching our every move until Christmas morning.

    When we got old enough to help decorate the house for Christmas, I and my brother and sisters would be "allowed" to place Santa's spies ourselves.

    That is some sick shit if you ask me...

    To this day, I get pissed off whenever I see a security camera.

    Merry Christmas and Happy New Year to you and yours and your band.

    I have enjoyed reading your stuff the last year. If you can't make it as a rock star, you could do well for yourself with your writing abilities.

    I hope you can find the time in 2012 to come play in central Indiana...although I know how much you would hate it!

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