Editor's Note:
We acknowledge this post is delayed, and not even that funny. But in our defense this one was never going to be funny and the reason it's a little delayed is hilarious. We can't tell you yet though, which is definitely not hilarious. 
We are soon releasing an app though and that will be hilarious, which is hilarious. 
If you're interested in testing the app, let us know. There will be no figgy pudding if you do test it, but there will be jokes involving Debbie. So that is at first not hilarious and then really quite hilarious at the end.

This holiday season finds the world flooded with changes of great variety. Autocrats, plutocrats, technocrats, and kleptocrats rise in celebrity and power while democracy and journalism are under attack around the world.

Technology marches forward to satiate a small percentage of stockholders while deftly aligned to reap money from the killing fields of unrepentant capitalism. No traditional farmer, or caretaker, of land would forget about the soil from which they grow their dollar and yet this is, again, where we find ourselves–fleeced by celebrity, politician, and tech-bro alike.

We, at the Vidalia News Recorder being the greatest investigatively satirical news source in the Canis Major Dwarf Galaxy and Lower Temecula (aka, an ancient race of alien satirists called, The Veeners), are finding it difficult to carry on with our childish zest for insanity, scatology, and barbed sarcasm. We are a small light on your planet and have fewer followers than a highschool mascot three months after a pregnancy scare. However, we’ve noticed–in our 36,000 years of writing satire on Earth–that the fundamental concept of unnecessary, deliberate suffering as the greatest sin among your people is still widely overlooked.

We Veeners are a peaceful people raised on merry traditions of laughing at genitalia & poop and then writing about laughing at genitalia & poop. It is a comfortable and easy life that we can all agree is hilarious and fulfilling. I mean, regardless of the species, have you seen genitalia? Why do they always look like mangled trombones stapled to otherwise graceful anatomy, and shit is hilarious. So when we landed on your world we discovered that the life on your planet suffered from a sort of collective white elephant gift exchange of elbows and genitalia. Hilarious! That’s how we knew we’d found our second home and that our satire would be widely appreciated among 12-67 people.

And yet…

And yet.

We’ve noticed that all life on Earth follows a simple arc, yet tragic all the same. Every being born here is forced to run a gauntlet of never-ending existence until in one simple moment… it just ends. To this we mean simply that all life on Earth is guaranteed two things, and in this order:

• Suffering
• Death

This is something that in the hearts of every Veneer, we are incapable of accepting with a stiff upper-lip. We simply cannot comprehend a whole chain of chains of lives that must run an obstacle course of difficulties whose final reward is the cessation of both difficulty and the life that brought it. As Veeners, our people are granted the chance to laugh at genitalia and then write about laughing at genitalia before our deaths and in-between our sufferings. Back on our home planet, we even have peer-reviewed symposiums about the best approaches a satirist might take when writing about laughing at genitalia, and how space-boobs play a part. Alas, on Earth, as it is for humans, so it is for whales, lions, scallops, and fungus.

Those that are born, are granted suffering and death.

From what we’ve seen of human behavior, we are quite certain that the suffering you force on each other is sometimes (or often) worse than the death that ends those years of suffering. What’s truly boggling though is that all this suffering continues and is getting amplified yet nothing we’ve written here is… new.

Most human suffering is a choice you do to ourselves, your families, or your communities and in most instances where suffering was a choice, it was wholly unnecessary.

Now imagine a baby, an earthling, like you (but not you, Chad). Before birth, its soul exists in a veiled realm of wonder, and quasi-reality. Or, it doesn’t. Yet, when born, from the deftly articulate and wondrous machinations of the glory of the universe, an awareness sparks to life… and automatically it’s hungry and cold and crying.

Will the child be cared for? In essence, will the child be sentenced to a life of existence, or will that child be granted love, care, protection, and direction. How much is each, sometimes, barely, or constantly? A child is not born asking for suffering, and many are not left to suffer, and none must suffer.

So many children grow into adult bodies having been parented by suffering.

It doesn’t have to be this way.

To be Damned with Existing

This is the same message that’s been repeated for thousands of years, a message whose grace can soothe even the most Damned parts of life.

For many, to exist, is to be damned to some form of being, where the act of being aware brings awareness of situations so wretched that those with some fortune or good luck or peace will never understand.

For many people in desperate minds or desperate times, just keeping their eyes open feels like setting their skin ablaze, where their nerves crackle from overload.

It doesn’t have to be this way…

Even now as we close our borders, we close our hearts. As we round up homeless we round up our humanity. As we kidnap our children into government camps we step away from grace, from charity, and create a useless suffering that will fell us faster than our enemies.

At this time in the world, embracing the suffering of others is the same as architecting our demise.

It doesn’t have to be this way…

In Closing…

That’s why, for this Holiday Season, we simply ask that you, and your loved ones, spread kindness and charity to people in your lives, and a few strangers too. Give what and when you can to where it’s needed.

The effect of your kindness can’t be understated. It truly changes the world, even if quietly.

Your neighbor’s children are human. Please see that.

And when you’re done, come back, kick up your feet, slip on those pizza slippers, crack open that cheese log and sparkling eggnog, and learn more about how Mr. Poops n’ Butts is running for Congress.

We’ll be here… laughing at farts.