The Poor Little Bastards And Carnival Story Revisited

I haven't been of a mind lately to write for my little blog, or really do much of anything useful, constructive or interesting. But the "little people" occupy my thoughts this time of year. I'm not having lunatic imaginings of tiny folk, not yet. I'm actually sort of looking forward to that phase of my insanity. Instead, though, I'm speaking about the little people who appear as elves in Christmas advertisements this time of year. Many use people actually suffering from Dwarfism, or some other condition that makes them just so small and cute. I just saw a Black and Decker commercial on television that had a whole mess of those poor bastards acting as Santa's Elves, all decked in green. But you know that each and every one of them is at least annoyed, and more likely really pissed-off. And without any planned sequel to The Station Agent or The Wizard of Oz anytime soon, that's pretty much the only acting gig you can get if you're a tiny little freak.

Years and years ago, when I was about 10, I went to a carnaval. I was already somewhat aware that that was not a place to go, but I went anyway. One of the "attractions" was Lobster Boy. For some reason (why do you do anything), I paid a dollar and went inside, where I found a middle aged man, very short, with a terribly deformed hand. He sat in the middle of his tent with bottle of whiskey, and never looked up as I filed past. I nearly vomited afterward. Not from the deformity, but from the swirling black-hole of sadness that had this poor bastard at the center.

That fucking Black and Decker commercial made me think of poor whomever he was, or is. I've probably told that story before, which is embarrasing, but what can you do.

Feliz Navidad.