Showing posts with label Fairies. Show all posts
Showing posts with label Fairies. Show all posts

Tuesday, April 03, 2007

We're all Doomed: Fairy Edition

by Greg at 11:01 AM
 

Believers in fairies are up in arms over what they believe to be a cover-up of a fairy-sighting in Derbyshire, England. Remains of a supposed mummified fairy were exposed as an April Fools joke by illusianist, Dan Baines but fairy believers are not buying it. According to Baines, "One person told me to return the remains to the grave site as soon as possible or face the consequences."

And this has been the "WE'RE ALL DOOMED" for Tuesday, April 3rd, 2007.

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Wednesday, January 25, 2006

Save Tinkerbell!

by Greg at 3:55 PM
 

I'll admit it. I'm not a tree hugger. I really don't even like nature. Nature and I have more of a S&M kind of relationship. Once I urinated on a bush. The bush seemed humiliated but accepting of its role in the relationship. We both quickly realized that I wasn't invested in the relationship and we eventually grew apart. That is about as intimate as I get with nature. Even animals. Couldn't really care less. While I don't have season tickets to the local cock-fighting contests, I do really enjoy eating chicken. If God didn't intend for me to eat meat, he wouldn't have made cows so tasty. Plus, I don't find Birkenstocks to be all that comfortable. The lifestyle just isn't for me.


And then there is a story like this one to make me feel even more confident that I'm on the right side of the issue. Apparently, some Scottish villlagers have their kilts in a bunch over some development project because they're afraid that it will displace the ... wait for it... FAIRIES! Yes, fairies.

"Marcus Salter, head of Genesis Properties, estimates that the small colony of fairies believed to live beneath a rock in St Fillans, Perthshire, has cost him 15,000. His first notice of the residential sensibilities of the netherworld came as his diggers moved on to a site on the outskirts of the village, which crowns the easterly shore of Loch Earn.

He said: A neighbour came over shouting, Dont move that rock. Youll kill the fairies. The rock protruded from the centre of a gently shelving field, edged by the steep slopes of Dundurn mountain, where in the sixth century the Celtic missionary St Fillan set up camp and attempted to convert the Picts from the pagan darkness of superstition."

Personally I wouldn't want the blood of mystical creatures on my hands either, but there has to be a compromise here somewhere. Perhaps as a gesture of good faith, Mr. Salter should present a plan to build a series of low-income bridges for vagrant trolls? Or maybe even a shelter for stray dragons?

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