Wednesday, April 25, 2012

Shouts & Murmurs: The Faeries are Coming, and Man, are they Pissed.

For any of you who are familiar with the New Yorker column "Shouts & Murmurs" - I hope you'll enjoy my spoof on one. 
by Signe Pike

The Faeries are Coming, and Man, are they Pissed. 

Dear Human Beings: 

Despite the centuries of misappropriation, disbelief, and downright disrespect shown to the Fair Folk on this lush and bountiful planet, we’re still trying to be the bigger “people” here. So we figure it’s only fair we let you know what’s going on: we’re coming, and man, are we pissed. 

It seems like only yesterday we were living peacefully, playing sweet music as the sun set, feasting on the bounty that earth had to offer, and of course dancing merrily in mushroom rings nightly, as we are wont to do, when these unkempt and hairy beasts came on the scene. Entirely uninvited, we might add. 

They had no language we could discern, but spoke in grunts and rude gestures, grabbing their bodily organs as they shook their thick and shaggy fists at us -- it was all rather unsettling. Next thing we knew they were squatting in our caves while hunting our fellow earth creatures on clearly designated private land. All attempts at negotiation between our attorneys and their leader – a knuckle-cracking imbecile known as “Gnuuuub” – failed, and eventually one evening, due to some misunderstanding as we attempted to share with them the secret of fire (we are nothing if not compassionate) they began hurling stones at us and hooting like a bunch of wild hyenas. 

After that, we kept our distance. Throughout the years, however, our kinder nature continued to prevail, especially when the gentler and more considerate of this new “human” race would reach out upon hearing our melodious flute music echoing through the glens, or after catching a passionate snippet of fireside recitation of the epic stories of our race. But as they continued to hijack our cultural secrets and breed like so many nests of cockroaches, we decided it was high time to beat a hasty retreat.  

 But in the past several decades, it’s come to our attention that this millennia-long party you seem to be throwing has gotten a bit out of control. First of all, your party is quickly running out of ice. (Uh, the polar ice caps, if you hadn’t noticed?) Nobody likes a warm drink. People in China are wearing masks to breathe through all the air pollution from the factories that make soon-to-be recalled plastic toys, and there’s a litter landmass floating in the ocean that’s bigger than your state of Texas.  Of course there’s all the other stuff, too. Do we even need to go on? But to make matters worse, all of this pandemonium is set to the soundtrack of an atrocious, stomping, nasally-voiced woman named Nicki Manaj whose mammary glands are, more often than not, hatching diabolical plans to offend the very concept of clothing. 

And all the while, we, Great Spirits of the Natural World, Guardians of the Energies of the Earth, the very beings who taught you about poetry and the elements and metal-working, are being portrayed as tiny, tranny-looking women with wings in the ABC show Once Upon a Time. As if the cultural obliteration and Disneyfication of our race weren’t bad enough, the quality of the movies we do actually get to show up in is really in the crapper. (We’d like to point out that all Tinkerbell movies go straight to DVD.) Now, the Lord of the Rings, well that’s more like it. 

So consider this a warning, you body-waxing buffoons. Clean up your act, or… or… let’s just put it this way: We will make the eco-nuts on Whale Wars look like a bunch of pansies. In other words, we are prepared to go pre, pre, pre-medieval on your ass. 

You know what to do, so start doing it. We’re trying to do you a solid here. After all, the trees, the animals, the planet itself—those things will come back, in time, in new ways; eventually, without you, the planet will find a way to heal. But if you don’t start living more responsible lives with the planet you have now, you’ll be the ones who won’t be around to enjoy it. 

Sincerely, The Faeries

a.k.a Nature’s Badasses

p.s. We do accept bribes of cheese, fine alcohols, and first-born children. 

p.p.s. It’s only fair to tell you we play favorites quite unabashedly. So donate your time or money to an environmental cause, or better yet, change the world for the better in whatever way you can dream up. In turn, among other niceties, we’ll help you always find an awesome parking spot at the grocery store.