Desperate Cry for Help 015

Actually children this story all starts when Uncle Charlie was a little boy in a big city - a lonely polluted hellhole, full of deviant perverts and people with deeply fucked up lives, caught in spirals of depression and trapped in the consequences of their own bad and moronic choices.

It was a far away land of heat and sun, where no one was happy and everyone was bureaucratic.

People were taller then, and so they sent little Charlie (who was just like me but thinner and a lot more cut) to a special, giant, brown and grey brick building.

They didn't call this building prison, because grown-ups love euphemisms, so they decided to charmingly call this place "school."

Now, the fun thing about "school" is that it's incredibly clever.

See, what they do, is they take young, powerful, inquisitive minds (just like some of you used to have only a few years ago) and they bore and tire and leech and remove every ounce of creativity with things worse than Chinese water torture - stuff like standardized tests, report cards, and the foulest tasting chocolate milk you've ever encountered.

But I'm sure you all know about those things, children.

So, you see, people who would have otherwise gone on to be unbalanced but great members of society are instead pigeonholed by the mediocrity of others who think they know best.

Most people line up like obedient little soldiers, and let the system strip away their insanity, leaving them "well-adjusted" "right thinking" members of society.

But some of them, the lucky ones - become smokers, look at pornography, and die of lung cancer alone in a cold alleyway one dark winter night.

I want to figure out which of you children has bought the old line - "Do your homework, bully the strange, and form cliques" and which of you are secretly attracted to the characters in comic books and stay up all night dreaming of nuclear holocaust...

I have to believe that some of you are worth saving, children.