Where Angels Fear
4 min readNov 29, 2018

The Natural World

(NO²T = TW³Y + GT - RT)

As everyone knows, the natural order of things (NO²T) is how things were when we were young (TW³Y) minus the things our generation got rid of for being rubbish (RT) plus the things we added because they were great (GT).

So … NO²T = TW³Y + GT - RT

Anything else that is added or subtracted (by other generations) is wrong and to be resisted.

Well, that’s the way it was when I was young and anyone who says different is wrong, Q.E.D.

Now, I am, as has been observed before, pretty easy-going, open-minded …

I like experiencing new things, different cultures and traditions … have lived in a number of countries … am open to new ideas and accepting of the fact that they … however heathen the savages may be … do it differently over there, so, as long as they don’t impose it upon me, I’m fine with that and even happy for them to do it here as well, if it doesn’t hurt anyone, whatever it is … and, when in other countries, I like to take part in their traditional practices and experience them for myself — I am a guest in their country and, when in Rome, do as the Romans do¹ … it’s only respectful after all.

So, when I go there for Christmas, I eat the traditional Christmas fare, wherever I am — it’s fun and educational.

And, when people are here, if they wish to keep their own seasonal tradition then that’s fine by me too, so long as it harms nobody else.

But, I have just learned that millennials in the UK are not eating Christmas pudding!

Now look … Christmas pudding has been eaten in my family … and the families of everyone I know … since Time Immemorial.

It’s been eaten in Britain since at least the Victorian era … and a tradition dating back at least two hundred years is decidedly NO²T.

Since my grandmothers died, it’s been a tradition in my family that, if my father doesn’t make one, we buy a Christmas pudding in the supermarket. Well, if millennials aren’t buying them, what am I going to do when my father isn’t around to make them any more and the supermarkets have stopped stocking them as a result, eh?

It just won’t do.

So, I’m going to lobby my MP to put forward a private member’s bill in Parliament:

  1. The eating of Christmas pudding to be compulsory by law.
  2. All those claiming to be allergic to the ingredients to be tested and any found insufficiently allergic to be sent to gulags for re-education and anti-aversion therapy to make them like it.
  3. All those found to be sufficiently allergic as to represent a health-risk to be sterilised, to prevent their genes polluting future generations.

If that doesn’t resolve the matter then I‘ll be left with no choice but to stand for Parliament myself and get elected Dictator Of The Universe In Perpetuity ³.

And if that doesn’t work out then I’l have no option but to take up pro Christmas pudding vigilantism of some form — probably involving industrial quantities of advocaat/eggnog and, in all likelihood, a lot of ’pour encourager les autres’.

They don’t drink, don’t take drugs, don’t have sex, won’t eat Christmas pudding — millennials are living proof that aliens are amongst us I tell you!


¹ Their habit of having sex on the backs of motorscooters in public ² is, perhaps, a trifle risqué from a British viewpoint but, hey, I’m game and will try it at least once.

² See the ‘Rome’ segment of Night On Earth (by Jim Jarmusch), if you’re unsure of what I’m talking about.

³ More on that to be detailed in a forthcoming post.

Where Angels Fear
Where Angels Fear

Written by Where Angels Fear

There he goes. One of God's own prototypes. A high-powered mutant of some kind never even considered for mass production. Too weird to live and too rare to die.

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