Wednesday, 11 January 2012


One day, a middle-aged man by the name of Abassi fell ill. Living in rural Nigeria, he had been fortunate to survive so long, but with so many in his community living so poorly he feared for his own survival. The disease was strange, a malady of the mind - he went into an almost supernatural trance when in the presence of pencils or paints. Abassi drew on anything he could reach, and drew of things he had never seen before.

Disturbed, he went to the clergyman of his small village. To the clergyman, it was an open-shut case - he had been cursed by a witch. The man asks how this could possibly be, and the clergyman said that he would like to look at the demon's art that Abassi had created.

The clergyman noted that all of the scribbles were of strange aquatic beings and oceans, and thought perhaps that the water Abassi had been drinking had been cursed. His suspicions were confirmed when, two nights later, Abassi attempted to drown himself in a hand-dug hole and three inches of mud. The community instantly flared up, demanding that the witch be brought to justice. Abassi survived, but just barely - he went comatose, and was not expected to survive longer than a few days.

The clergyman accused Abassi's young wife of being the culprit, as she was the one who collected the allegedly cursed water. She denied it, of course, but her family distanced themselves and the judgement of the community was brought upon her. The devil was exorcised from her through fire and dirt, and she joined the Lord's ranks.

Abassi survived, in a way. He slowly relearned the ways of his people after he awoke. Then he decided to apprentice under the clergyman and become a person of faith, learning the ways of God. One day the clergyman vanished after professing that he had taught what was once Abassi everything he knew, and the apprentice became the new clergyman of the village.

He gathered all of the villagers, and said...

"Hello, my friends. This is a nice village. Your faith continues to inspire me."

All of a sudden, the poor villagers started getting quite a bit more clean water to drink.


  1. Damn. That was cunning of the Camper. Throwing suspicion onto the wife from it's position of authority as priest.

  2. Yeah I have to give some props for that. Pretty impressive.

  3. Who is better off, do you think? The burned and buried wife, or those whose minds have been lost to the tragedy of the commons?

  4. Oh, my darling aquatic fucking nightmare... you go back SO FAR.

    I hate that. I really do. But then again..

    there's not really anything I can do to stop you.

    Also, burning is the most painful possible death in this world. The only pain close to it is childbirth, and you don't die that way.

    Maybe burning is more merciful than living as a Camper...?