Every ten years, Anglo-Saxons are required to fill in a census form to let the Northumbrian authorities know that they’re still alive – and that they know their own names and addresses. This year is Census Year. Hooray!
This piece of imbecility was devised by previous kings so that they could keep track of their loyal and happy subjects, thus enabling them to boast to their fellow monarchs about how many people they were exploiting, oppressing and patronising.
It was decided to impose the census upon the population despite the hard lessons that King David had to learn after he’d carried out a headcount of his own Israelite people in disobedience to the specific command of the Almighty. Some king lessons are never learned…
This year, our noble King Alhfrith and his aristocratic cronies have taken the decision to extend the scope of the census questionnaire this time. Predictably, their highly-paid lackeys in the Witangemot are reassuring the public through the soothsayers that there is no reason for alarm: everything will be simple and the information supplied is guaranteed to be safe. Whatever. My pal Feaxede the fox is safe with the chickens...
For the impressive number of illiterates in the lovely Kingdom of Northumbria, this census poses both a threat and a farce, since there are severe financial penalties for those who don’t fill the form and submit it; the result is that those blessed with the gift of literacy are burdened with the responsibility of asking the feckless idiots the questions they’re unable to read, and then to write the entries to the form on their behalf. Needless to say, a great deal of money is to be made by enterprising scribes. I’ll be helping Caedmon out when he does his bit for the hapless. He does it out of Christian charity, so he charges nothing; despite this, he’s rewarded by substantial draughts of mead and ale from the grateful parishioners. Things can get rather interesting after a couple of home visits…
What questions are they going to ask Northumbrians this time? Well, apart from the usual name, address and number of kids guff, they’ll be asking things like:
What do you eat for breakfast? (Sheer idle curiosity. Serves no useful purpose.)
How much do you weigh? (To find out those who are fat so that they can mock and shame them)
What colour is your skin? (Silly question, since most poverty-stricken Northumbrians don’t know how to wash, so they all look a dirty brown)
How many cats do you own? Are they licensed? (To raise more money through fines)
Do you spread butter or dripping on your bread? (To find out whom to bully and lecture about eating habits)
How many horses or donkeys do you possess? (To assess the means of transportation)
Do you ride them – or use them for work purposes? (To decide which tax to levy on the animals)
Have you eaten any rabbits in the last ten years? If so, how many? (To work out the number of bunnies consumed in the Northumbrian diet)
They’re also going to ask what each person’s religion is. In the future this will enable the King - when he’s in an oppressive mood – to round up all the Edda-reading Vikings and pen them up somewhere and beat the living daylights out of them. As you can imagine, the Vikings are writing “Atheist” on their forms.
Those who write “Christian” on their census forms are likely to be marked for persecution by the aggressively irreligious, fly agaric-chewing secularist psychotics who are working hard to eradicate the Christian Faith from the public consciousness.
So, why are there so many questions on the census? There are two simple answers.
First of all, the Northumbrian State is overbearingly intrusive, and thus wants to gather as much information as possible from its people by force so that it has more means by which to intimidate, patronise and bully the people.
Secondly, to create more non-jobs for the out-of work pigeon psychologists, fish quota accountants, cat license administrators and diversity co-ordinators that have been cast into the outer darkness of unemployment by the Tree/Liberationist Alliance government. What the State takes with one hand, it gives with another. In this way, the data can be assiduously collated by the mindless slaves. Some of them will certainly go mad as a result.
I can hardly contain my excitement...
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