breakingstuff.

Bad Religion

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How doth the little crocodile improve his shining tail
And pour the waters of the Nile on every golden scale
How cheerfully he seems to grin
How neatly spreads his claws
And welcomes little fishes in
With gently smiling jaw

Sarah made jam!

Gisnep Worlg*

‘There Will Come Soft Rains’ | Sara Teasdale

Behind Santa Claus.

A rare photo of Santa Claus chilling in his home

Everything you know is wrong. Well, at least everything you know about Santa Claus.

What I am about to present to you, the reader, is a rough biography of Santa Claus’ past and how it has affected his current image, and what it tells us about Santa the person.

Alrighty then, are you ready to know the truth?

Because after I tell you, you can never un-know this information.

Okay.

Santa riding a goat. For some reason.

WHAT YOU THINK YOU KNOW:

Santa Claus. Jolly red Christmas man. Lives in the North Pole in a Christmas village with elves. Makes presents for every Christian-descendant child on Earth (whom he watches all year, judging behaviour into two categories: naughty and nice).

Possibly invented by Coca-Cola as an advertising campaign.

Possibly based on a 4th century bishop, Saint Nicholas who gave secret gifts and acts of philanthropy to the needy.

Possibly a time travelling wizard who can bend the fabric of space at will to travel the entire Earth in a single night.

You once questioned his existence.

But Santa Claus is real.

THE TRUTH:

It was long ago, in a time before history, when the oppressive Council of Justice reigned supreme over the supercontinent Pangea. Santa Claus was a young politician, a member of the Council of Justice representing the division of magical affairs. He oversaw the use of magic in Pangea and saw to it that it’s misuse was punished.

Old Santa had an infamous hatred of children and small people in general, and was often questioned by his fellow council members on the matter. There were many times when Santa was caught devouring children he deemed unworthy for society, though he was quickly punished by the Grand Chancellor for such acts.

Santa Claus preparing to devour a small child

Santa’s child-eating obsession was often overlooked by the Council as just a simple addiction, but one evening, at one of the Council’s meetings to discuss various eradication procedures for the then prominent Elf infestation, one of the other members noted that Santa’s habit had gone too far, and that his evil was corrupting the Council of Justice to a rule of fascism and oppression.

The Council quickly agreed that Santa had eaten one too many children and his plans for world domination were fast growing tiresome, so they devised a plan to rid the evil from his soul. They banished him the the topmost region of the Earth, where is was cold, and unforgiving and set him a task: to fill the Earth with love, joy and happiness once a year.

Santa agreed that it was only fair, and so, with his magical powers and time bending abilities, he travelled for the Arctic circle, bringing with him the Elves that plagued the beautiful land of Pangea.

True fucking story.

Santa Claus addressing the Council of Justice

The Santa Claus we know today is simply an evil genius, who’s longevity spans millions of years.

We overlook the simple clues that indicate the fact that Santa is really just a monstrosity of humanity, banished from civilisation, forced to deliver gifts to the thing he despises the most.

1. He lives in the North Pole, in exile after countless evils.

2. He has a slave army of Elves, who do the bidding of the Council of Justice (now known as the UN)

3. An unmistakably evil laugh (HO HO HO!!)

Yeah anyway.

For Sarah

Going to go see an uncut screening of The Human Centipede: Full Sequence tomorrow night. Excite

Happening right now

(Source: thefuuuucomics, via maliciousisanunderstatement)

For the past week and a bit I’ve been living two lives. One life, I’m Jesse Boyd. I have an uninteresting full-time job at a supermarket, and a slow moving plan to move out of home with my gorgeous special someone. I watch movies, and buy more than I need. I write and think of ideas for my own future prospects in film, and overall, enjoy my life and my love.

My other, more recent life, is spent as a dark-elf refugee in the province of Skyrim of the greater landmass of Tamriel. It’s a hostile place to live, and often times, difficult to survive on a day-to-day basis. These are tough times for the people of Skyrim, with a civil war brewing and the return of dragons to the land, it’s hard to feel safe. Many find work in farming, or trading goods and services. Others join factions and guilds, to hone their skills in the art of the blade, or magic.

With dragons, the undead, booby-trapped dungeons and people plotting against you, life can become exhausting. The size of the province is intimidating, and travelling by foot, though rewarding in it’s natural beauty, can become tiring, especially when encountering many of Skyrim’s hostile wild animals. Life is a journey. A huge adventure, and this world lives around me. It’s citizens interesting and their cultures diverse. So many things to do and get lost in amongst everything, it’s overwhelming.

Sometimes you need a vacation.

So occasionally, I’ll move to Steelport, USA. Where I’m a member of the Third Street Saints. My hobbies in Steelport include diving off of buildings, throwing myself in front of cars for money, and beating old women with giant purple dildos. To name a few. The massive contrast of these worlds is staggering.

Saints Row: The Third, and The Elder Scrolls V, are two entirely different games, with entirely different purposes. When I’m playing in Skyrim, I’m completely invested in the world, and it’s people, with a sole focus on what I’m doing. I’m taking in the entire experience. Living in this fantasy world, where I can take down giant mythical beasts, or hunt for lost treasure in a forgotten tomb, and I grow from everything I do. I feel like I’m having these experiences, living a different life. It’s a slow build to this overall sense of enormous satisfaction and growth.

When I’m playing Saints Row on the other hand, It’s this immediate punch in the face of fun. The game is constantly giving you new, fun things to do, and I’m never bored. It’s just mindless fuckery, and it’s amazing fun. Such over-the-top antics could never fit in any other world. Everything is glorified, and the game doesn’t really condemn you for anything, it just makes everything more fun, and suggests other fun things to do so you can buy more stuff to have more fun with. Rinse and repeat.

I love both of these games. And I doubt I’ll get tired of them, at least not for a very long time. The experiences are just so jarringly different, but by no means is that a bad thing. If I’m not in the mood to have a serious trek across frozen tundras, I can fuck around with explosions and senseless murder, in the most fun way possible.

Egoraptor (an idol of sorts for me) compares the original Castlevania game on the NES and it’s sequel, Simon’s Quest to being a high class dessert and a bag of chips. Castlevania being a well thought out, highly produced, satisfying experience that you have to slow down to appreciate, where as the gathering and quest mechanics of Simon’s Quest are more akin to snack foods where you can just keep “munching away” for instant satisfaction. I think that’s fitting in these two games. You have to really take your time, and take everything in in Skyrim to have a completely satisfying experience, whereas in Saints Row, you really don’t have to think much at all. You turn the game on, and the game is set up for you to have immediate fun, and to keep building on that fun to keep you hooked.

Anyway

That’s just something that I’ve thought about on my own here, without this one to keep me sane and otherwise occupied. While I wait for her to get back though, I’m going to go and join the fight against the Empire. Maybe bash some old ladies too. With a dildo.