skonen_blades

When a magician pulled a rabbit out of a hat
(In the olden times)

He’d ask for a hat from the audience
(Because everyone wore hats
Because pulling it out of his own hat would be suspect
Because the hat itself was immaterial)

Because that was the actual trick

But the audience stopped wearing hats
So the magician needed to bring his own

He wore fancy clothes back then
(Because everyone who went to the theater wore fancy clothes
Because he wanted to look like the audience
Because he needed to disarm them with familiarity)

Because that was the actual trick

But the audience stopped wearing fancy clothes
And the magician kept his suit
Because it went with the hat

The audience changed
The magician didn’t
The magician became a tradition
Which became a definition

To this day, classic magicians dress well
And if you draw one in a cartoon
He will probably have a top hat

This, to me, is what has happened to our institutions;
Governments, nations, churches, police, banks, schools

They used to come from the audience
Because everyone felt like a part of them
Because using them to exploit would be suspect
Because the institution themselves were just people
Because everyone who participated in them had faith
Because they needed to look like the audience
Because they needed to disarm the audience with familiarity

Because that was the actual trick

But all that’s left now is a costume
That no longer reflects the people
And the sleight of hand is missing
It’s just theft now out in the open
A robbery

That finishes with a ‘ta-da.’



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How to end a world’s race? How to entice children away from their parents? How to separate them and destroy an entire generation before working on the older ones?

Easter.

Black-skinned camouflage razor skin peeked out pink-eyed from underneath the dappled leaf shadows. Claws re-sheathed back and forth in anticipation. Huge incisors lay exposed over lips designed to widen wounds. The large aural receptors lay back along the body in the deathly stillness that surrounded each unit. Long back legs designed for speed and sharp turns quivered, taut, waiting for the order.

The rabbit-sized killer of children licked it’s big, pointy, teeth.

Little Suzy Jenkins had a problem with Easter. She was allergic to chocolate. Her parents had hidden boiled eggs all over their yard to be collected and painted later at the party. Her friends had been invited over. It was a sunny day.

Suzy’s was told that her boiled eggs were ‘special’. Bullshit, she thought.

Hundreds of tasty chocolate eggs were spread far and wide around the property of her parent’s bushy ranch for the other children to find. If any of the other kids found a ‘special’ egg, they were to pocket it and bring it back to the egg-painting competition for a prize. They were told to feel free to eat whatever chocolate they found.

Poor Suzy Jenkins.

Suzy was pouting on the front porch and drawing idly in the dirt with a stick when she heard the first scream.

It came from behind the house. She looked in the direction of the scream with her hand shading her eyes from the brilliant sun.

Peter Mooney stumbled around the corner of the house, eyes wide, futilely trying with his small fingers to keep the blue slippery ropes of his guts from sliding out of the open cavern of his stomach onto the dusty ground. It was a losing battle. A loop of bright mucus-wrapped intestine already dragged behind him, gathering leaves, sticks and, Suzy noted with concern, ants.

His lungs must have already been dislodged because all he could do was make fish-face noises as he walked past Suzy in a daze.

Several black blurs raced over the ground towards him like low-flying swallows. Rooster-tails of dust blossomed up behind them like they were miniature speedboats at full throttle across the lawn. They made a noise like power tools.

Several more screams echoed from the back of the house and a few from the neighbouring properties. Suzy could hear the parents talking inside the house, still oblivious to anything happening outside.

The black blurs converged on Peter Mooney’s ankles with a sizzling sound. Suzy heard the snapping of elastic bands as Peter’s Achilles tendons were cut. He went down with a sigh onto his knees before falling forward.

Before he hit the ground, the black shapes stopped racing and pricked up two long ears each.

Suzy was starting to register that something really different was happening. She brushed long blonde hair out of her large eyes. Suzy plucked a piece of dirt off of her blue dress and stared at the shapes.

It was like the long-eared shapes were listening for directions.

Suzy heard her friend Alison shriek out in the field like nothing she’d ever heard, even during her tantrums in class. The shriek cut off suddenly.

Suzy stood up to take a closer look at the long-eared shapes standing immobile around Peter’s twitching body.

Bunnies! They black shapes were bunnies!

With a joyous shout that turned all of the long ears towards her, she clapped her hands and jumped up and down on the porch.

She was special after all. All the kids that ate chocolate were being punished!

The parents inside had gone quiet. She could hear a newscaster on television frantically telling the audience something about last night’s meteor storm and children.

With two hops, the rabbits that had punished Peter turned towards Suzy and put their ears back. Four more rabbits came tearing around the corner of the house, arcing towards where Suzy was standing on the porch. The other black rabbits joined the pack in sprinting towards her.

Eights shades of death raced with abandon towards the last child left alive on the property.

Suzy crouched down with her arms outstretched to give all the bunnies hugs. She smiled wide. This was the best Easter ever!

Suzy heard her mother scream behind her.

The rabbits leapt off the ground and into Suzy's arms.


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