Stories of Rudolph, two of three

Dear Editors of the Lurid Mysteries of the Unknown Magazine,

Have you ever thought about the North Pole? I don’t mean the well-documented passage to Inside Earth; I mean the place where Santa Claus lives.

Disregarding for the moment the actual reality of all those tales, have we fully considered the ancestral events and realities of pre-Neolithic Europe that gave rise to them? Even at the risk of sounding like a cheap von Däniken knockoff — and I do not want to dim the glory of that great man by the tawdry association of my own vastly inferior ideliocules — isn’t the North Polar cohabitation of that curious pair Mr. and Mrs. Claus of shockingly inhuman nature, surpassing even the curious arrangements of the Gods of Olympos?

Let us consider this, if we dare — if we are not so bound by the hides of unbudging scientific orthodoxy, or so cowed by the arcane rituals of approval of its callously self-appointed gatekeepers of ritualistic scientistic lore — let us consider the setting.

Two creatures, Mr. and Mrs. Claus, clearly of a kind separate and much superior compared to their servitors and the common mortality that worship them, live in a separate, deserted (shades of Hiroshima? dare we speculate?) area, and appear to possess near-supernaturally efficient means of transportation. Even today, the technology to visit every single home all over the globe is barely imaginable — what could have spurred the cave men of the ancient world to think up such unthinkables?

Or what of the toy factories, so glibly romanticized by the storytellers of today? Factories are a distinctly modern idea! Only a very advanced society would have been able to engage in such concentrated mass production of trinkets — or rather trinkets to them, but almost magical sources of joy to those receiving them. As thoughts of colonialist Europeans come to wild lands carrying glass baubles rise to mind, one cannot avoid wondering if the Europeans’ ancestors were similarly impressed by the baubles of a vastly more advanced habitation in the far north — but surely this all is unbearable mockery to the science types who have decided these damnable things cannot be said out loud.

What factories churned near the North Pole in days long gone by? What crude and half-formed worker-shoggoths toiled in them, only later to gain the name of “elves” or “gnomes” from barbarians unable to comprehend their true mechanically biological nature?

What engines and satellite feelers, what untiring machine eyes, kept track of the “good children” and “naughty children”, or those primitive tribes that either did or did not follow the dictates of their alien mentors?

And, above all, what pair of intelligences housed in the shapes of a man and a woman, eidolons of the desired end result of their stellar mission, lorded over all this, the first dawnings of human civilization? What teachings and commands were handed down before all this was lost under the coy names of “Santa Claus” and “Mrs. Claus”?

What are those rites that survive in the chimney — the milk and the cookies — the story of the flying machine fronted by a red warning light and roaring like a herd of bestial reindeer — the bottomless bag of gifts — and what of the space helmet-like conical hats? What antennae did they conceal — and what of them doth remain in the inaccessible northern climes?

I propose to lead an expedition to the North Pole to inquire into these and other things the scientific orthodoxy does not want us to know; and as I return Einstien-like, Feynmann-like, like Hawkings bearing his dice, I want your proud publication to have the exclusive.

My calculations for the necessary funding and the probable location of ancient-astronautical ruins are appended.

enthusiastically waiting for your answer,

Hale J. Bopp, B.S.

One Response to “Stories of Rudolph, two of three”

  1. Bob O'H Says:

    You should add some random capitalisation, and send it to Prof. Meirs, UMM, Morris, Minnesota, USA.

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