A Missive To The Editors Of The Surreal Times
Dear Sirs, Madams, & What Have You,
I am afraid that I have not been the most forthcoming in my previous writings. You see, I am not simply interested in contributing my writings to your paper as a personal project. My line of work has had me observing you for quite some time now. In order to understand why, we must delve somewhat deeper into the concept of Novelty.
Novelty is the word we use to refer to the factor which reverses e n t r o p y, that hum-drum opiate of the universe that claims us all in the end.
The goal of my current employer is to ensure that, though we may all entropy & fade, we shall not do so before we reach over and close the lid on our pine box. In short, we produce, organize, & facilitate novel occurrences. We are in the business of producing wonder. A great many of the strange & wonderful things that happen on this earth are not so extraordinary if you look behind the curtain, so it is this that my employer seeks to prevent.
You see, belief must persevere regardless of fact. Entropy & time grind mountains to dirt, but it is belief that builds them up again. Imagine if you will, everyone awoke one morning knowing that Bigfoot existed. All that newly freed-up belief energy has to go somewhere! People might just start believing the Earth was flat! Where would that bring us? Undoing two millennia of hard scientific work, that’s where. I tell you, that is not where I like to find myself on a dreary Monday morning. I do not believe that to be unpleasant. I know.
So, my agency keeps belief alive. An agent allows photos to get out, but checks first to make sure they are appropriately blurry, doubt is able to be fostered, spread, and with it comes belief. Because of the agency, life remains colorful, confusing, and full of dreams. As long as there have been humans peeking behind the curtain, we have been there to hang another one just behind it. In that way, the Earth keeps spinning, the Sun keeps rising, and Novelty is preserved.
We have many tools for this job, many I shall not name in this missive for reasons stated previously, but one I am sure has become no stranger to you as of late. The dreaded Noise Moth. Through a trick mutation, they are drawn to noise, not light. They flutter upon their prey with needle-like teeth and rend the sound from the air. They are also somewhat psychoactive, in certain circumstances. Recently a cache of these invaluable witness befuddling tools got free near my old hometown and I was pressed into returning to observe their recapture. Of course, upon my return, I discovered they had all been “taken care of.”
My deepest condolences to Chimp Joe, may your digestive tract recover quickly. I shall not trouble it again.
Yours, knee-deep in muck Alan Partridge
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