by Blazer Sparrow
The War On Christmas is almost won, comrades. Although most evil Christians would have you believe some poorly-written propaganda that their side is losing ’cause Gen Z doesn’t pray in school or jerk off to the American flag or some horseshit, that’s simply not the case. It’s about economics. More and more of our youth are turning their backs on this consumerist pageantry because there just isn’t much to celebrate. Anyone who works service industry knows that holidays are just workdays that are busier with worse clientele. Most office jobs don’t even give Christmas Eve off. It’s hard to get excited about a holiday that equals as much time off as Veterans Day. Also, the cult of family is quickly dissipating since the American Empire has literally run out of money, and the last pathetic dynasties holding onto some sort of illusion of the American Dream realize theirs is the last generation that will ever own houses. Christmas means a stressful time with family and literally going broke out of guilt. Boo. ...
by Esmeralda Rupp-Spangle
So many of us are both fascinated and entranced by things that are aesthetically Victorian—brass architectural details, clockwork jewelry, aggressive syphilis, unregulated industrial toxins, etc. Unfortunately, we don’t all have the luxury of being dead, so in hindsight, here is one of the coolest and weirdest whodunits since ever.
The reports of this bizarre leaping demonic figure were first reported around 1837 and ended around 1934—oddly, almost the exact same tenure as Queen Victoria herself. However, he was far more rakish than she, reportedly. Hard to say, though, as the appetites of monarchs have been known to be grotesque at times.
What comes off as most interesting about the reports of this bouncing demon is that there didn’t appear to be a goal for his antics. He never really demanded anything or lifted purses. He didn’t steal the virtue (such as it was) from young women. He didn’t appear to be overcome with a ferocious bloodlust, and he didn’t pillage, commit major arson, or start a pitchfork mob. (That was easy back then, right?). By all accounts, he just leaped menacingly about, occasionally causing minor injury and a definite need for an opium pipe or a snifter of brandy, perhaps both...
