From the lips of journalist to the ears of man, we spread the news of feast and famine. Journeying across the desolate tundras of truth, hoping for respite from the biting winds of false conjecture, we pledge allegiance to infiltrating the gospel according to mankind, delving into the cultural juxtaposition of belief and science at this given time. Falsehoods collected from the past are embraced as tracked memories scoured and processed by historians are ignored.
The fallacy of man is to continue a destructive life cycle while other animals evolve. We sustain ourselves by maintaining an arrogance, an ignorance to our own intelligence’s weaknesses. When it is too late, we get to realise that all those crossroads littered with dead religious beliefs and outdated morals were the pivotal points in manhood’s demise. Historians will pick through the bones, licking at the remnants with a taste of their own tradition tainting the original flavour, setting new stories for the falsehoods of future mankind.
This is our legacy. This is our belief in justice. This is our history.
If you don’t believe…read this wonderful story. Christmas Spirit survives through belief and compassion for others. Don’t forget to add Storytime with John to the list of bloggers you follow. He has many more amusing stories to tell you. Enjoy.
John Lee Taggart
Well it’s beginning to look, a lot like Christmas…don’t worry, I am not about to break into song! I just love this time of year…that festive feel, that holiday spirit, that – well, whatever you call it! I just unashamedly still, love Christmas!
Unfortunately it has came to my attention recently, that many foolish souls have been spreading a rather hateful, and malicious message…something that isn’t Christmassy in the slightest! And this is something for which I will not stand…as a resolute Christmasist!
What I’m raving about are those Scrooge-like fellows, who wildly claim that Santa Claus, is NOT repeat, NOT real! Which is of course crazy! And I have a story to prove it!
I was six years old, possibly seven, when I found myself sitting on a train with my Aunt. I’d just visited her in London, so I had just enjoyed a couple of days of…
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