Dear commune:
I want a new ten-speed bike, not a Huffy or a kid’s bike or anything, but one with real handle brakes and everything, something glossed up and ready to go. Something really cool looking. If you want to throw in a helmet or some neon-looking biker shorts, all the better, but I’m not holding my breath.
I also wouldn’t mind a bunch of DVD movies and a new DVD player. I realize the one I got for Christmas last year is still pretty new, but something about the way the front panel lights up—I don’t know, kinda faggy. I’m just saying.
I would also like an electric guitar, whatever you pick out should be fine. I don’t know how to play but I know if I got one I would take the time to learn, no matter what my dad says. Everything does not just end up in the garage gathering dust.
If you could bring me this stuff, which is not a lot to ask, I won’t even ask for anything really big and ridiculous, like having all my bills paid and getting a girlfriend who doesn’t sleep around at the drop of a hat. Oh, but I do want to ask for world peace. Partly because I really want it, partly because I feel like a total asshole if I don’t ask for at least one thing not entirely just for me.
I realize you are not Santa Claus, and this letter did not come to you by mistake. I stopped writing to Santa Claus because Christmas came and I ended up with a big lapful of nothing. I like you guys, you seem like the kind of people who can get shit done. You make good on this stuff and I’ll spend 365 days a year worshipping you guys. I’ll also set milk and cookies and a little orange juice with vodka out for you, if you want to come down the chimney.
A.J. Ridenhaus
Great Valley, N.D.
Of course, the bike won’t be quite what you asked for. Ramrod Hurley bent the frame pretty bad, which is why he doesn’t ride it anymore. And we’re not quite sure if Lil Duncan’s biker shorts will fit you right. And DVDs are a little expensive, so we’re substituting some free thousand hours of AOL discs we acquired. But the electric guitar we can do, enough failed attempts to start bands around here have left us with a pile of them. As for world peace—shit, good luck on that. It’s a scientific fact most people are only happy when other people are unhappy, so there’s no way everybody can live in peace and harmony. But we have an old VHS of Woodstock ’94 we’re passing on to you instead. See how much fun it is when people riot and mosh and exploit the hell out of other folks, then tell us if you still think peace is such a groovy thing.
By the way, all the time and money we’re spending on you this year is what we usually put towards buying and delivering Christmas gifts for local orphans. If they happen to call and ask us why Santa didn’t come this year, we’ll just tell them Santa had to cater to a self-absorbed Gen-Y prick this Christmas. Suck on it, Ridenhaus.
the commune
Dear A.J.:
This may surprise you, but we here at the commune were all touched and inspired by your letter, so we decided to do as you asked. Expect us from 9:30 to midnight on Christmas Eve, though we still have to talk someone into making the run to your house—it’s a little out of the way. But what the heck! It’s a damn shame when you do everything you can to change the world and find it’s the same sad-ass place it was when you came into work this time last year. If we can make one person happy, we’ll consider everything squared. And this year, that lucky person is you.
Editor’s Note:
the commune is not responsible for the over-commercialization of Christmas. Nor are we responsible for the real downers who want to over-Jesus it up either. In fact, between those two warring factions it’s no wonder we’re shit out of holiday spirit already.
Volume 56
Thanks for being so understanding about not publishing your letters. After all, the commune gets hundreds of letters every millennium, and we can’t fit all those into our regular editions. Mostly because two-thirds of them are from you. Quit writing us already.
Volume 55
the commune was touched by your touching letter and hilarious name. Someone has probably pointed this out to you previously, but did you realize your name also doubles as a descriptive phrase? That’s too much. It could even do triple-duty as a ham radio handle. Man, how funny to be you.
Volume 54
As for Disney being a bunch of perverts, where have you been for the last 50 years, Narnia? You think Pinocchio was really the story of a lying little puppet? What are you, five years old?
Volume 53
Barf. Gag. Retch. Seriously. If we here at the commune ever eat cake again, it’ll be because we forgot your letter. Jesus.
Volume 52
While ‘Do unto others as you would do unto a woman with tits out to here’ is a catchy religious slogan, we have to wonder how successful it would actually be in practice.