Kill the Elf, With the Shelf
By Jordan Waldmeier | 12/05/2014
Since the tragedy of 9/11 there has been a slew of inventions to take our minds off of what’s happening in the real world and allowing us to enter a hazy, Matrix-like world of percieved perfection, such as the ones depicted in ads for neighborhood drug stores. Among these distractions are the Segway (spontaneous cliff divers), Steve Jobs (turtleneck and change), health food stores (Whole paycheck, hold the gluten), and exploding levees (the Man). One of the worst, though, has to be a tool to "help" parents in having less ill-mannered children during the holiday season. That, being the child-labor produced doll known as "The Elf on the Shelf."
Premiering in 2005, "The Elf on the Shelf" has become a staple of family Christmas traditions around the U.S. of A. The story is, through a collaboration from a mother/daughter team of former educators, who happened upon marketing gold and accompanied it with an elf doll. It is usually available at most bookstores around the beginning of the Christmas season, which in America means it's October. You may choose to pay the SRP (standard retail price) of $30 for the set, which includes the storybook and twist-tie bound elf doll. Or, you might be lucky enough to find a partially dog chewed, menthol cigarette scented one at your local thrift shop for $2. Either way, it’s a bad idea.
Unlike most kids theses day who grew up on your standard fluff of pixelated animated sing-
alongs featuring characters ranging from toys that come to life, to fun-loving-well-educated monsters, as well as a very popular agoraphobic ice-witch; I had the great privilege of seeing, in theater as a child, the Child's Play trilogy, Puppet Master, The Indian in the Cupboard, along with many other great "The title sounds sweet so we can take our 6-year-old child to see it" films. (Oh, and there was an animated feature that taught me it was okay to play with household appliances like toasters and electric blankets.*Bonus points if you know what I'm talking about.)
Because of my viewings of these circa 80's "PG" movies, my trust for an Elf on a Shelf is equivalent to Nicole Brown marrying OJ Simpson, where I know it's going to end badly. If toys came to life, do you honestly think a vintage cowboy and future spaceman are going to be caught saving the day with the rest of their owner's mish-mash of toys? No! If anything: they'll team up to eradicate races of both past and future, which brings me back on subject with the Elf.
Do we know exactly what kind of elf this is? In mythology there are many types of elves- from being human-like, to demonic, and to monstrous- with a lot of them being referred to as seducers, rapist, connivers, and murderers. Some cultures even considered an elf to be Satan in disguise, I would consider that too.
The majority of elves aren't makers of delicious cookies, builders of toys, or one-ninth of a ring disposal crew; actual elves would poison your cookie, break your toy, and throw you into the lava pit. Now, if we take that short bit of condensed internet knowledge in mind, would you really want one of those rosy-cheeked bastards sitting on your shelf?
All I can imagine is waking up one night to see it sitting in my bed with a kitchen knife whispering "Shhhhh" to me softly. If Robert Stack was still around these days, we’d finally be given a proper “UPDATE” on all of those spontaneous combustion cases.
“The Elf on the Shelf” is meant to be a game of sorts for children to participate into being well behaved, so that a home intruder will bring them all the gifts they desire. You are to place the elf on a.....shelf, report to him daily with a list of things that you need to sustain temporary good-behavior. Do you know what prisoners get for good behavior? Sunlight.
Speaking of which; the elf is supposed to report back to the jolly fat guy on your current standing. "COUGH! Narc." You readers may ask, “Well mister grinch what would your elf say about you? Are you naughty or nice?” Trick question! There is no elf on my shelf nor will there ever be. There is only one cotton-stuffed being that would be allowed to grace my home atop a shelf or couch or wherever he wants. ALF, because he eats cats, and cats are stupid, so he’s cool with me.
* Answer to the bonus question...cheater.
About the author:
Hello universe, my name is Jordan Waldmeier. Scientifically, I am 28 years of age, as of 2014AD. I was born and raised in Sulphur, Louisiana and moved out of my mothers home at the young age of 27 and a half. Currently residing in Lake Charles, Louisiana (a whole bridge away): I am an observer of the human species, mentally taking notes on their actions around me, hopefully to be recorded to paper before they are lost by the inevitable dementia embedded in my DNA.
I am a collector of modified, petroleum formed, 6 inch scale likings of comic book superheroes and other science fiction icons. My favorite tree is one that has been processed into a 22 page full-colored comic book. Both of my parents are still alive, therefore, I am not Batman.
"Be excellent to each other."
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