So, stepped out of the shower, humming Christmas carols. In July. Insane, isn’t it? And to think, Christmas is still five long months away… though perhaps I’m in an x-mas mood because DOOM3 is just around the corner.
Anyways. I digress.
Specific carol being hummed was Rudolph the Red-Nosed Reindeer, of all things. Being analytically-minded, and an English teacher, and someone who can read sex into most anything, and someone who’s been watching a lot of Quentin Tarantino of late, well… I came to some bizarre conclusions about our red-nosed buddy.
There’s Rudolph, right? Social outcast. Freak. He exists, naïve in the ways of the world, prepubescent, wide-eyed and innocent. So, one day, everything’s going as it normally does for the poor bastard — folks spitting on him, calling him names, kicking his ass — and then something happens. Something big. Man, all Hell breaks loose, because there’s this fog, okay? The world as Rudolph knows it is coming to end because, in all the history of the reindeer, something like this has never happened before… or so he thinks. Rudolph’s not only naïve, he’s also oblivious. I mean, had he not spent the better part of the last, say, ten years wanking in his bedroom or playing that cross-damned X-Box that Santa forgot to load one year, and actually poked his red-nose outside and smelled the proverbial roses, he likely would have seen that this “fog” happens every five years… and for a specific reason, as he shall soon discover.
Now, what’s a kid with everything in the world to gain from proving himself to his peers and, hence, nothing to lose (he can’t drop any lower in the social rankings of teenage reindeer, oh no sir) going to do in a situation like this? Why, he’s going to seize the day! Carpe diem! So, off he goes, never minding the stains on his fur, forgetting to turn off his X-Box (let alone the bloody television) — and zing! There he is, thinking to himself, “by gum, I can do this, I can save the day!”
Seems like a great idea, right?
Here’s the kicker… oblivious to the fact that, man… oblivious to the fact that he’s being watched and judged by the entire community, Rudolph does this. Flies the sled. Loops the loop. Zigs and zags, things and thangs. Remember, Rudolph doesn’t know this fog — his head’s been buried between the pages of, I dunno, something suitably homo-erotic like Superman for the better part of the past decade — this fog is actually a regular occurance. Thus, he has no idea what it means; it’s significance to his society!
So, Rudolph gets back from his little joyride, panting like the bitch he’s about to become, and god damn, what he’s greeted with? This misfit, this pariah? Cheers. Rudolph think he’s pulled off some heavy shit tonight — and literally speaking, he has; that Santa’s a fat bastard — but the people are cheering and crying out with glee because they hate Rudolph, hate him, and love what’s about to happen to him! They greet him with… what? You all know the chorus. “You’ll go down in history!”
Shit. Think of this!
What if, by performing this righteous act of strength, by passing this every-five-year-feat, Rudolph has inadvertently committed himself to a life of sexual servitude as a concubine, orally pleasuring the folk of Castle Claus? “You’ll go down in history!” Rudolph has proven himself as the reindeer with the most stamina, capable of lasting as long as he’s needed to, surpassing even those few who actually wanted the role — Donner and Dancer and Blitzen and Britney and the rest of those old blowhards — and damn if that red-nose isn’t just the cutest thing to boot…
Yikes.
Stranger still is the other idea that I had, that Rudolph is, in actuality, a time-travellin’ fellatin’ reindeer… history, indeed.
And don’t even get me started on Little Drummer Boy.
