If you’re like many folks, and you believe that because Barack Obama is the President there is no racism, The Elf Wax Times has news for you!
Most Americans think we’ve “outgrown” racism or that there’s no place for it. “Racism went out with slavery, at the same time or maybe before,” said Elf Wax Staff Historian Grit Banks. However, online personal attack debates continue on the PlayStation(TM) Network(ALL RIGHTS RESERVED).
“I don’t hate all Black People,” said one gamer who asked to remain anonymous. “I just hate the ones who act black.” Indeed, there’s nothing more satisfying than a night of intense, but rewarding gaming only to be the final kill, followed up by “Shit son, your bitch-ass got dapped, PECKAWOOD!”
Racists are like pretty bad. But eRacism is a widely accepted forum for Hate favored by racists on all sides of the equation, giving credibility to the idea self-critical human history has long regarded as barbaric. In addition, reports can be filed on these gamers directly to Sony, giving the Hatemongers an extra special title for achieving what was once thought impossible: the Offense! title is granted to any player who successfully offends or verbally assaults a gamer into reporting him.
“It’s a highly sought-after symbol of Hate,” said gamer [KKK]String__em__up, “Surpassing the power of the inverted crucifix and even the Swastika.” This effect is achieved by combining an animation of the two.
While online gamers number in the millions, actual racists account merely for a small percentage, roughly sixty five percent.
As a solution for the ongoing crisis of eRacism, Sony executives are hitting at the implementation of possible eLynchings. The service would be free, but only as long as the victim “really deserved it.”
“I’m gonna use it on one a them towelheads that hate our Freedom,” said one patriotic American who asked not to be named.
It’s thought by some that eRacists, along with Internet Tough Guys, are “all talk” and “got no bark to match the bite.” However eRacists, when provoked, never back down from an eChallenge and will cuss you out to the better end, proving their strength.
Only time will tell whether the eLynchings will produce favorable results. In the meantime, only headshots do the talking.
eLynch now with your friends!
Jay went on to express his renewed attitude toward life, and lack of certainty around what he will do next. “Now that I can be the writer I always dreamed of bein’, I just don’t know what I’ll write about! Sports? Politics? Social trends, the government? War and peace; it’s all out there for me,” he said with a grin.
Jay Kenny said he’d already grown accustomed to day-to-day life without ambition. “Paper hits the door every mornin’. The songbird sings my favorite tunes,” he said. He went on to describe how he’d come to delude himself into believing a life without any distinction whatsoever does not evacuate the happiness from his soul, but in fact brings him a form of satisfaction. “Things here are just how I want them to be. Pretty much all the time. Grass stays cut. Neighbors are friendly. Known them about fifteen years now. What little money I get pays the gas bill, heating, lights, health insurance, life insurance, car insurance, homeowner’s insurance, water. With what’s left I buy food. Sometimes I have enough left and I’ll even buy myself a big old steak dinner. Me and Gus,” he said, pointing to his dog. “I guess I might just write about that.”
Mr. Kenny said he would not investigate the duct-work of his home, telling reporters the weight of the curiosity around what caused his dreams to come true by simply neglecting to actively pursue them can be remedied with a good Marlboro cigarette and a shot of whiskey. “I don’t like to ask no questions,” he said. “Something told me I’d be a big novelist one day and people would want to know what I’ve got to say about things. I just believed in myself. And that’s probably how I was able to keep my routine of television, forty hours at Staples, and shopping at Kroger. I knew it’d all pay off eventually.” And it did.
Virginia, U.S.–The local human plantation of Roanoke, Virginia is at the brink of destruction.
A peace treaty is being worked out with the animals, but no inside sources have yet indicated any premonitions around the terms of the agreement. Anonymous sources report that Roanoke mayor David Bowers, best known for having sold the town to Wal-Mart out of gambling desperation, denies any involvement with unpaid, lion-related debts, saying, “I wouldn’t make a wager with those penniless rubes. They only want your flesh anyway.”
Field analysts say the animals have taken to gathering in the Roanoke Civic Center where humans are hunted for entertainment following a sold-out Toby Keith concert.
Jim Fixx, our reporter on the scene, identified twelve positive kills before he himself was eaten alive by a ravenous pair of adult hill cats.
Town spokesperson Lightfoot Steifewagen recalled a feeling of terror, when on her evening run to Wally World was pulled over by lions and questioned. “They wanted to know where I was going,” she said. “They asked where I came from. Like it’s any of their business!”
Attorneys for the swarm of mountain lions have stated the occupation is officially a peace-keeping mission intended only to affect a very precise few people who took part in the alleged attempt to overthrow the laws of nature. But he added, “No one is directly at fault for the decline of the mountain lion’s land, but because all have systematically taken part in the mass rape of it as every nut and every cog is needed to turn the gears of Humanity – the Great Fucking Machine.” It is a principal moment in interspecial relations in which a beast, with an attorney’s help has leveled the playing field with man.
So far, the verdict is split. If no verdict is reached after a second round of hearings Tuesday, the Roanoke County vs. Mob of lions trial could move on to the Virginia Supreme Court, where experts say the level of clusterfuck is expected to be a critical mass situation. Commander Von Hertenweiner, lead gang-rapist of the lion’s crack legal team on the case, said, “I foresee a dimension of politics so unexplored that NASA scientists and mathematicians have been placed on temporary standby, awaiting transmissions from the top.” Judge Joe Mathis, who is expected to rule on the case, said “Next week’s hearings should go as smoothly as an abortion case, or a sudden lion attack.” He concluded, “If things get too hairy, I will back someone into a corner and hold them in contempt of court after they lash out at me with rage.” The press room then let out a chuckle, quit their jobs, and went home to ‘blog about it.
In other news, rising again to defend the Glory of Mankind, as he has done countless times before and forever will do into perpetuity, Winston Churchill had this to say:
Commented Stan Stientenblauer, the Pentagon’s leading astrophysicist and top scientist on the case reported to the press moments ago that, “It’s dangerous to the Earth. It is also dangerous to humanity and her precious, precious domination over all of Mother Nature. Our clocks are beginning to speed up but our perception of time is slowing down. Tomorrow’s traffic report is not looking good. And you can forget about Monday.”
This small Virginia town is writhing in turmoil. To escape the confusion of what is shaping up to be True Armageddon, Roanoke citizens have taken to their televisions, watching emergency reruns of Frasier, Lost, and 24. Some have ordered pizzas. Some are on a savage looting spree Downtown. Other citizens, like Leesa Brenner, a Roanoke Junior High School teacher told E.W. Times reporters from her front porch, “I Just want to put this whole mess behind us.” Her ex-husband but live-in boyfriend, carpenter Steve Crowe, threw his hand up to the sky, and announced, “It’s time to get on with life.”
The couple would not agree to any further questioning and went back into their home, where Maury could be overheard declaring someone the father of an unwanted child. Overhead, the black hole can be seen clearly in the evening daylight. Streaming sheets of rearranged matter clouds together perfectly from all directions into the vacuum of the all-consuming abyss, and growing exponentially. Doctor Raymond Sexjoy has warned of a highly-inevitable spaghettification due to set in within twenty-five minutes, pursuant to our crossing of the event horizon, due to take place just moments after the upcoming opening credits to The Simpsons. Commenting on humanity’s ability to control the crisis, Sexjoy said, “Oh heavens no. We’re all fucked,” as he lit a cigarette, and twisted morbidly out of proportion until he exploded apart into a stream of atoms.
More as this develops into Hawking radiation.