Unicorn meat

I have always hated unicorns. I hate them with a passion alike in strength to that of a newborn child for his mother's nipple. Unicorns are the symbol to me of all that is wrong with this world, and I wish to expose them as the fraudulent schemers that they are.

In truth, my enmity goes beyond unicorns. I tend to hate all creatures, mythical or not, that are equine derivations (except pegasi, which I find inspiring). I believe this acrimony to be a result of my pubescent longing for girls who tended to choose horses over me. I have never understood - nor do I want to understand, for it is truly evil - the appeal of horses to preteen girls. Had I my way, these monstrosities would be corralled into a starcraft and cast into outer space, where they would surely die from lack of fresh drinking water.

My friend, whom I shall here refer to as Owen Wilson (though he bears no resemblance or relation to the actor of the same name or any of the roles in which I have seen him - I am simply fond of the name and wish to type it more often), claims that girls are attracted to horses because they are, by definition, "hung like horses". I say that this is likely not the case. For one, if it were the case, the affinity would continue on through adulthood. For another, there are animals (such as elephants) whose privates would make those of horses appear small. And for yet another, the affinity is not limited to male horses. Also, these are preteen girls. Owen Wilson is a sick, sick man.

But I digress. It is the idea of unicorns about which I intend to communicate my loathing. Yes, unicorns occupy a special place at the pinnacle (or, more appropriately, the nadir) of my personal hierarchy of loathed creatures, which I have well-mapped in my mind. Unicorns represent falsehood. They represent the misguided wish of youth. They are wrong on many levels.

My introduction to them as a concept came when I was a child and saw one at a circus show. No, no, I know that unicorns are mythical, but someone had made one. Those swindlers at the circus had surgically implanted a horn in some horse's forehead. Were I able to feel any empathy toward horses (I am not, for they are foul beings), I would have pitied the beast. Instead I felt only revulsion, both toward it and toward those who had made it. I lifted my arm to strike at it as it moved past me near the tent, but I thought betterof it - horses are vile and dangerous beasts when improperly stirred.

What bothered me most was how people believed in it. Children were amazed that a real unicorn was being paraded before them. I nearly engaged in fisticuffs with a fellow circus patron who told his daughter that the thing was indeed real and true. Only through great restraint on my part did I not destroy all who were before me as they gazed lovingly at such filth.

The unicorn is a scam and a sham. It is a thing put before us as real that is not, that fools accept as real and whose realness they proclaim to others. Unicorns are presented as magical and wonderful creatures, and those convinced of their realness imbue them with traits they only wish they could find in real beings. I have lived my life in opposition to the unicorn. I do not tolerate those who construct fantasies to fulfill their longing for traits not found in the real world.

Here, in this blog, I shall battle unicorns.