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Posts Tagged with Other Worlds

In Santa’s Defense

Posted on December 19March 3

Once upon a December, John Kerkhoff and Kyle Griesinger characterized Christmas morning as “merely the sentencing phase of a kangaroo court overseen by an out-of-touch tyrant at the North Pole.” Scrooge would have been pleased.

In fact, most don’t know this, but among Scrooge’s many objections to Christmas, one has always failed to get a mention. It was probably thought apocryphal, but I put to you that it is as real as Santa himself, and it goes something like this: “We have an annual right to Santa’s property unless and until it is forfeited by our own bad behavior. Justice demands due process to decide what The People will do with Santa’s stuff! Until then,” says Scrooge, “we must boycott Christmas! It’s a bunch of nonsense! Hubbub! Milk and cookies should not be given to the miserable old saint but thrown at him!”

I know. Scrooge was probably just angling for some of that free naughty-list coal. And it probably worked, so it makes sense that others might try the same tactic today if just to get coal around burdensome government regulations. So, probably Kerkhoff and Griesinger aren't true scrooges. They were just being clever, and it must have worked again because, recently, their efforts were recapitulated on twitter! Transparent as the effort is, it still calls for someone to rise up in Santa’s defense. That's where I come in.

First, Santa evaluates behavior in a blameless manner. Kerkhoff and Griesinger disagree and accuse the old saint of spying for his intel, but that position is ill-informed. As it came out in court, Santa’s workshop is invisible because it exists in the dream world (see Miracle on 34th Street (1994)). Santa spends a lot time there, so when he sees someone, yes, it is probably when they sleep because it's in the dream world. He can tell when people wake just by their logging out of the dream world, as it were. So, neither case entails that he resorts to spying! And, for goodness sake, where’s the need? For all we know, Santa’s nigh-angelic role in this world positions him to get information straight from heaven. Or, he might get it straight from us in the dream world. After all, who remembers all of their dreams? So, no, Santa need not resort to controversial measures to get his information, and furthermore, there is no case against the accuracy of his assessment. There is no case against the accuracy of a magical saint with unimaginable resources.

Besides all that, Santa need not explain his gift choices to anyone. It is a matter of charity. It's a matter of one man’s choice about what to do with his own property. There need be no jury, and there should be none. Santa has rights, too, and even the most presumptive communist regime cannot claim authority over Santa or the labor of the elves.

Furthermore, Santa enjoys freedom of thought. If privately deciding that someone's behavior is bad counts as a lack of due process, where is Santa’s due process? His opponents have already ruled against his behavior. Have they robbed him of due process? No. They need no jury to formulate their own opinions, and neither does Santa.

So, Santa’s charity is just. South of the pole, scrooges may clamor to steal via the state and bark at those who object, but that just shows the North Pole's ways to be vastly superior. Rather than reward bad behavior and risk spoiling the whole world rotten, Santa practices prudent generosity. (If only the U.S. followed his example in foreign aid!) While America is vexed by litigiously crazy federal agencies assuming every (theoretically separate) power and court role they can in pursuit of their victims, Santa’s nonstate society is naturally immune to such troubles. Contrary to the opinions of some, the peoples of earth could stand to be a great deal more like Santa and the North Pole.

Merry Christmas.

Penjammin grew up in a labyrinthine cavern. Later he ran with the wolves and lived every moment marinated in the sweet scent of his game, until pirates landed and… (see “About”). Get his eletter at penjams.com/subscribe.

Sea-flight

Posted on September 22September 22

I continue to record my adventures on your internet. Enjoy. -P

The ship closed in,
And then just when
They were in cannon’s reach,
A splash was heard
And we emerged;
The mermaid and I breached.

I held on tight.
As fast as flight,
She flew us through the sea.
And friends of hers
Sped the others
And we all fled the scene.

To rest awhile,
We found an isle
Deserted long ago.
The fairy gave
The mermaid a
Response like due a foe:

“Now, how did you
Escape that crew?
And not get killed by- her?”

“The Redhead’s mine,
Serves me, not swine.
She helped me cause a stir.
As for our friend,
We were swimmin!
Not like I could ask her!

With that they left
Us there, bereft
Of any way back home!

”Cap, this is where
You’ve been? Nowhere?
Just stranded all alone?”

”No, this ain’t it.
And we can’t get
Back on our way just yet.”
We've time to do
A thing or two,
And dry whatever's wet.

“Ok, but why?”

“We lost our ride,”
I looked at my fae friend.

“And also, well,
That worked too well.
No, this is not the end.”

The Pursuit

Posted on September 16September 16

”Let’s get away!”

”We can’t this way!”

”Their ship’s too fast. It’s true.”

”No we can’t leave
Our cap to grieve-”

”Oh yeah. I meant that too.”

“No problem there.”
The fairy stared.
“The Redhead's gaining fast.
So, hurry men!
Let’s catch that wind!
Cause second place is last.
… I’m wondering
If they're using
The same wind that we use.”

“I feel like I-
We’ve heard that right?”

“Well, now I’m just confused.”

Vicious Broods

Posted on September 9September 9

I continue to record my adventures on your internet. Enjoy. -P

”His friends! That way!
There they escape!”
The crew all turned around.
Then I hit Croc.
He dropped. The lock
Yanked hard as he sunk down.

Ere any knew
I made a move
Through an old secret way.
Escaped again,
Like once back when.
It didn’t feel the same.

Though out in sea.
Where mere ladies
Were thought a vicious brood,
I’d lived before
And back aboard
Such rumors would be true.

Hence toward my friends
I swam, but when
I came up once for air,
I was in view.
So, down a few
I swam- and saw her hair.

Trapped

Posted on September 1September 1

I stayed awhiles
With them hostiles.
And stepped in front the cell.
To speed my men,
I’d stay and send
Some mutineers to hell.
The crocodile
Lunged in agile
But his hand was too slow.
I backed up and,
The cell gate, slammed,
And it locked through the bone.
Then, ‘neath his sword
He called his horde.
I saw I was trapped in.

”I’ve hid the key.
Now you need me!
You tell them I’m captain!

”No! You’ll kill me.”

”Well, probably.
But you’ll choose how you die.”

”Just kill me then
And face my men,
My second at command.
I may be kneeled,
But ere I yield,
I’ll cut off my own hand!”

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