A Little Humor for the Day 2024
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It has been claimed (by whom?) that some organizations are operated on the Marbles Theory of (Mis)Management. This begins with employment and being issued a bag of marbles. Each time the employee earns a suspension or causes some other trouble in the workplace, one of his or her marbles is collected by management. When the individual has lost their last marble, they are immediately put in charge of everything.
@mawnansmiff - I know my sheep almost as well as I know my potatoes. Look at the card again: did you see the fleece on those shigs? Or do I mean, peep?
Take a look at the left dancing pig . In Iowa we have more than a couple of hogs .
I've never seen one with a "Sargeant Carter" haircut :
@Infantry23 expressed, on the PMSS forum, a desire to see something by C S Lewis on Christmas in Hell, ideally from a hitherto unpublished Screwtape letter: so here it is...
My dear Wormwood,
I am delighted to report that His Infernal Immanence is pleased to see that what humans laudably are now starting to refer to as ‘The Festive Season’, or ‘The Holidays’, instead of ‘Christmas’, is beginning ever earlier, year on year, in the Terrestrial Realm. No sooner has their Hallowe’en (formerly known as the Feast of All Saints, now wonderfully subverted into a celebration of infernal beings coinciding with their gourd harvest), than their thoughts are turned immediately to the next theme of purely material consumption - and to you, dear nephew, belongs no small share of the credit for that as, of course, to your many colleagues in the junior ranks of the Service. By the time the 25th arrives, they will all be getting heartily sick of the whole thing.
You write that your human is already thinking about what gifts he should purchase for his friends and relations: my advice is to counsel him not to think about it at all in any definite terms, but instead to busy himself with decorating his dwelling - outside as well as inside - with plastic effigies and bright, flashing lights that will annoy the neighbours and keep them awake at night.
Let your human only awaken to the assumed necessity of buying presents, a day or two before the due date: the less time he has to devote any consideration as to their suitability for the recipients, the better. Let him do it in an irritable panic, shoving and elbowing and cursing crowds of his similarly-afflicted fellow sufferers. Anger is the best antidote to goodwill ever invented. There is no reason why we should withhold the torments of Hell from them until the afterlife and the Judgement, if we can cause them to begin on Earth while they are still alive.
As he begins to despair, offer him this vain hope: that any lack of thoughtfulness with the recipient in mind, will be amply compensated for by the expense of the purchase. Guilt, correctly applied, is one of the most potent weapons in our spiritual armoury, and you will find it a great satisfaction to be able to turn this tactic of The Enemy against Him and His creatures. Guilt will impel him to make inappropriate choices of present, and cost him money he would otherwise perhaps have been foolishly inclined to bestow on some charity or other at this time; Guilt will also engender in those to whom he gives his gifts a pleasurable hypocrisy, when they tell him that this or that awful thing was just what they wanted, how kind of him, etc.
While on the subject of gift-giving, I must tell you that I view with the gravest concern that your human has become a member of Pipes Magazine: this is, of course, not in itself a bad thing, as you can turn his mind to new horizons of Envy, acquisitive Greed and consuming Gluttony (and of course, Sloth in doing the latter), but what is giving me disquiet is the practice of something these pipe-smoking humans call Som Besths. Remember that generosity must always go unrewarded. If you really cannot dissuade him from taking part, put it into his mind that he is being virtuous (the delusion of Pride), in participating at all, and that the minimum criteria are all that need to be satisfied - after all, it is a season of considerable financial outlay and these are people he barely knows and may never ever see this side of Hell. A basket pipe and a pouch of an inexpensive cigarette tobacco, bought in a moment of confusion, is sure to hit the mark; and if he has any tins of a blend he has discovered he doesn’t like, do encourage him to re-seal them and send them off as part of his gift. Then you can enjoy the recriminations that are guaranteed to follow.
Now, you ask whether His Infernal Immanence has decided to lay on seasonal entertainments at Headquarters. Well, as you know, as far as music is concerned, only secular seasonal songs are approved, and of these, Mariah Carey’s best-known song is his absolute favourite. This will be played at high volume on the public address system throughout the whole Twelve Days. Atheists will be able to enjoy it most especially as they decorate the tree - a giant redwood - and by ‘decorating’, I mean hanging from it, dipped in the very best ersatz pseudo-chocolate that Kraft Foods Inc. affords.
There will, naturally, be presents for all. Pipe-smokers will each be getting a two by four and a blunt chisel from which to craft their own pipes, and those fortunate enough to complete the task will also get a bonus pinch of Captain Black Grape (unless in life they liked the stuff, in which case they’ll be getting Gagsworth and Horrible’s 1792 Flake), and one match.
There are many other amusing entertainments planned, and I am sorry you will miss them - but you can always console yourself by going to Wal-Mart near to closing time on the evening of the 24th, and watch two housewives cat-fighting over the last bag of diced carrots. It happens every year. I love these seasonal traditions.
Your affectionate uncle,
Screwtape.
My dear Wormwood,
I am delighted to report that His Infernal Immanence is pleased to see that what humans laudably are now starting to refer to as ‘The Festive Season’, or ‘The Holidays’, instead of ‘Christmas’, is beginning ever earlier, year on year, in the Terrestrial Realm. No sooner has their Hallowe’en (formerly known as the Feast of All Saints, now wonderfully subverted into a celebration of infernal beings coinciding with their gourd harvest), than their thoughts are turned immediately to the next theme of purely material consumption - and to you, dear nephew, belongs no small share of the credit for that as, of course, to your many colleagues in the junior ranks of the Service. By the time the 25th arrives, they will all be getting heartily sick of the whole thing.
You write that your human is already thinking about what gifts he should purchase for his friends and relations: my advice is to counsel him not to think about it at all in any definite terms, but instead to busy himself with decorating his dwelling - outside as well as inside - with plastic effigies and bright, flashing lights that will annoy the neighbours and keep them awake at night.
Let your human only awaken to the assumed necessity of buying presents, a day or two before the due date: the less time he has to devote any consideration as to their suitability for the recipients, the better. Let him do it in an irritable panic, shoving and elbowing and cursing crowds of his similarly-afflicted fellow sufferers. Anger is the best antidote to goodwill ever invented. There is no reason why we should withhold the torments of Hell from them until the afterlife and the Judgement, if we can cause them to begin on Earth while they are still alive.
As he begins to despair, offer him this vain hope: that any lack of thoughtfulness with the recipient in mind, will be amply compensated for by the expense of the purchase. Guilt, correctly applied, is one of the most potent weapons in our spiritual armoury, and you will find it a great satisfaction to be able to turn this tactic of The Enemy against Him and His creatures. Guilt will impel him to make inappropriate choices of present, and cost him money he would otherwise perhaps have been foolishly inclined to bestow on some charity or other at this time; Guilt will also engender in those to whom he gives his gifts a pleasurable hypocrisy, when they tell him that this or that awful thing was just what they wanted, how kind of him, etc.
While on the subject of gift-giving, I must tell you that I view with the gravest concern that your human has become a member of Pipes Magazine: this is, of course, not in itself a bad thing, as you can turn his mind to new horizons of Envy, acquisitive Greed and consuming Gluttony (and of course, Sloth in doing the latter), but what is giving me disquiet is the practice of something these pipe-smoking humans call Som Besths. Remember that generosity must always go unrewarded. If you really cannot dissuade him from taking part, put it into his mind that he is being virtuous (the delusion of Pride), in participating at all, and that the minimum criteria are all that need to be satisfied - after all, it is a season of considerable financial outlay and these are people he barely knows and may never ever see this side of Hell. A basket pipe and a pouch of an inexpensive cigarette tobacco, bought in a moment of confusion, is sure to hit the mark; and if he has any tins of a blend he has discovered he doesn’t like, do encourage him to re-seal them and send them off as part of his gift. Then you can enjoy the recriminations that are guaranteed to follow.
Now, you ask whether His Infernal Immanence has decided to lay on seasonal entertainments at Headquarters. Well, as you know, as far as music is concerned, only secular seasonal songs are approved, and of these, Mariah Carey’s best-known song is his absolute favourite. This will be played at high volume on the public address system throughout the whole Twelve Days. Atheists will be able to enjoy it most especially as they decorate the tree - a giant redwood - and by ‘decorating’, I mean hanging from it, dipped in the very best ersatz pseudo-chocolate that Kraft Foods Inc. affords.
There will, naturally, be presents for all. Pipe-smokers will each be getting a two by four and a blunt chisel from which to craft their own pipes, and those fortunate enough to complete the task will also get a bonus pinch of Captain Black Grape (unless in life they liked the stuff, in which case they’ll be getting Gagsworth and Horrible’s 1792 Flake), and one match.
There are many other amusing entertainments planned, and I am sorry you will miss them - but you can always console yourself by going to Wal-Mart near to closing time on the evening of the 24th, and watch two housewives cat-fighting over the last bag of diced carrots. It happens every year. I love these seasonal traditions.
Your affectionate uncle,
Screwtape.