Written by matwil

Thursday, 21 January 2010

image for 'Another Children's Tale' by Sens I. Tive-Flowers 'What is satire, mommie?'

'Are you sitting uncomfortably? Then I'll begin. Once upon a time there was a land called Hitchy, boys and girls, and it had a big capital city with many houses and a palace and that city was called Fort O'France.

Though for some reason the scribes in another land that was named Amerigo pronounced those words Height-Shy and Bit Of Rinse, for their land had no schools but just brainwashing propaganda centres where all the children there were made to salute Amerigo's flag every day and were taught to believe that Amerigo was the mightiest nation on the Earth. Which of course, boys and girls, is very silly indeed, but as someone once said - 'give me the child before seven, and I'll give you 250 million people who believe everything they're told on teevee'.

Meanwhile the king of Hitchy lived happily with his people in that land and the sun shone and the sky was blue, and everyone was very, very happy. But then one day, boys and girls, a terrible thing happened, for a giant earthquake hit Hitchy and there was much unhappiness there. People lost their houses and the king lost his palace and many, many people were hurt and needed to go to the doctor's, and many of the children there were crying and scared and wanted their mummies, and some that couldn't spell English correctly wanted their mommies.

And the next day all the people in Hitchy decided to work hard to rescue lots of trapped boys and girls, and they did this, and other far-away nations very nicely sent hot air balloons full of food and medicines for the children of Hitchy, and they began to smile a little again.

But then a bad man in Amerigo called Black Maharajah decided that the earthquake gave him a chance to send an army of soldiers to Hitchy to take it over, and soon thousands of balloons were landing there not to bring food and medicines but to bring soldiers and bows and arrows and spears to that land. And many of the nice men and women in the far-off lands that had sent food and medicines to Hitchy were now very angry with Amerigo, for it was cowardly and bad for the Amerigans to invade Hitchy and it was actually stopping food and medicine arriving there.

But then foreign scribes arrived in Hitchy and began writing for the parchments about the bad Amerigans and how the Amerigans were acting very wrongly, as one man had correctly said from Frenchfrieland, but then a strange thing happened, little ones.

Despite it being obvious that Black Maharajah was a thief and a liar and was sending his soldiers to occupy Hitchy the scribes were all suddenly not allowed to say so, nor to mention the earthquake or to talk about Amerigo's parchments being edited by people from Unreal, a tiny land in the Far East that controls Amerigo's parchments.

And the scribes were confused, boys and girls, because they were only writing about what most people were saying about Hitchy, even little children, but then one such scribe had a good idea. 'Why don't we send a baby's dummy and a nappy - or diaper, if you can't speak English correctly - to Amerigo and Black Maharajah's apologists, that think they can control what people say and write about?', and the other scribes all laughed at that and got out their postage stamps and brown paper and began mailing off the dummies and the nappies to the poor people that believed such silliness.

Amerigans, of course, are children that need to be told what to do, boys and girls, and to believe the teevee and not be rude about earthquakes and who burst into tears when grown-ups make bad jokes about such things. In the far-away land of the Disunited Kingdom people are all grown-ups and the chances of them letting anyone tell them what they can or can't write about, what they can or can't laugh about, and what they can or can't satirise or make black humour jokes about are absolutely zero.

And so all the boys and girls and men and women in the Disunited Kingdom lived confidently ever after, while the ones in Amerigo remained a nation of crybabies that are scared to even criticise their own shadows.

The End'

Sens I. Tive-Flowers is an English writer whose living relies on people not criticising Amerigo or allowing black jokes or satire about earthquakes, and the Sens I. Tive-Flowers creche for babies is open tomorrow from 10 am to 4 pm. Amerigan adults are also looked after there, but American newsreaders need to find an under-3s group to join.

Not even the worldwideweb has taught Amerigans yet that their country is a joke across the world. Oh well, at least they can become editors of websites to keep their delusion of being important going. Or get their friends to do it for them. I blame the parents.

Or the British. Or the Commies - or the Muslims, or the Jews, or whichever people Amerigans are scared of this week. Censoring satire - the sad way to make yourself look unimportant. Next minute we'll all be speaking Amerigan. Or Hinglish. Now, where did that website full of satire go, again, again? Again. The pen is mightier than the sword, if you think you can control satirists you're off your trolley burgers. Makes you proud to be not American, the most controlled people in the world.

This article took thirteen seconds to write and is a load of childish nonsense - like the American constitution.

The story above is a satire or parody. It is entirely fictitious.

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