Skip to main content

Advice for Rudolph the Red-Nosed Reindeer

I hate Rudolph the Red-Nosed Reindeer.  Not the actual reindeer, not the character Rudolph, but the whole story, the whole message behind it. 

It goes something like this: Rudolph is born.  Rudolph looks different.  Rudolph is made to feel like a freak.  Rudolph is not protected by the very people that are supposed to protect him from shit like this.  Rudolph can not face the hatred and runs away.  Rudolph then finds some other freaks that have been likewise ridiculed into exile.  Rudolph returns home where suddenly he finds himself celebrated because the assholes that ran him out have found a use for him.

I hate this story.  The other asshole reindeer never have any self discovery, like maybe they shouldn't be fucking with people that are different.  No, they just realize that even a freak like Rudolph can be useful.

It ends on what seems like a high note:  Rudolph is rightfully presented as a hero, and the others are all contrite.

You had better sit down Rudolph; I have some bad news for you.  Next year when there isn't any fog, who do you think is going to be leading the sleigh?  You?  No, sorry, you are valued only as far as you are found useful.  You, my friend, are still a freak.  They might tolerate you for now, but you will never really be one of them.  No fog? Guess what? You are going to find yourself back on the Island of Misfit Toys hanging out, crying and wishing you were normal.

My advice is this: next time the fog rolls in, you tell Santa if he wanted your help, maybe he should have watched out for you when you were being bullied into running away from the only home you have ever known.  You tell Santa maybe he shouldn't have been complicit in driving you out into the frozen wastelands of the North Pole to freeze and starve to death.  You tell Santa, listen you fat bearded fuck, where were you before I was useful to you?  Where were you before I had to prove my value?  You tell Santa that if he can't take better care of his charges, even those that are different, maybe he shouldn't be allowed to be in charge.  You tell Santa, sorry, pal, you're on your own.  I hope you crash into the Atlantic and drown.

Go back to the Island of Misfit Toys, Rudolph.  Those other asshole deer can fly blind from now on.  Those other deer can take their reindeer games and shove them up their collective reindeer asses.  Find some other freaks and build a life, make up your own games, live well, and tell the normals to get fucked.

You have intrinsic value, Rudolph, regardless of what they might say.  You don't have anything to prove to those shitbags.  Believe that, and maybe you will find some semblance of peace.

Good Luck,

RP

  

Comments

  1. Hi Ralph it's Connie. This is your first blog I haven't liked and disagreed with! First, way too much profanity for such a great writer as yourself. Rudolph persevered despite all the ridicule about his nose. The majority of us have been picked on for various reasons; too tall too short, too skinny too fat, glasses, no glasses, big nose, pig nose, hair, no hair,etc. it's those of us who rise above the storm like Rudolph who are the true stars! 

    ReplyDelete
  2. I think the real issue is the lack of support from the older "grown" characters... Yes people do come out of these experiences wiser and possibly kinder but i do think that usually happens when there is support from the people who are caring for you. If you are raised by complete a- holes ... You may actually grow to be insecure and hating yourself. Definitely Rudolf the red nose reindeer is not the greatest learning tool for kids to watch. And of course Rudolf would do what Santa wanted.. He was seeking his approval from the very begining.. Poor little bugger.

    ReplyDelete
  3. Yeah I am a bit of a sweary writer. My Mom told me that swearing just gives someone a chance to not listen to what you have to say. I clearly never put that into practice.

    My intention more than anything was to say that if people don't accept you for who you are, you do not have to prove anything to them. They are the ones with the problem not you.

    I agree that Rudolph is a hero in the story and he certainly takes a higher road than I suggest he do in the piece. I also agree that there is something to be said for perseverance in the face of idiot persecution.

    Wait until you read what I have to say about Grandpa Joe from Charlie and the Chocolate factory!

    ReplyDelete

Post a Comment

Popular posts from this blog

The Dance of the Sand Hill Crane

 It is Saturday morning in Feburary and here in Michigan it is clear and cold.  The sun has risen a while ago but there are still streaks of red in the sky, lighting up the clouds, high and wispy.  I am standing by my car after completing some chore, cleaning something or retrieving something and I am slow breathing, trying to calm my heart. It has been a difficult week. My son has a fight tonight, full contact MMA, his first, and I am full of conflict and anxiety about it. Not because I don't believe he will do well, because I know he is as prepared as anyone can be for such a thing, but because I am a father and I feel like I should be protecting him from the violence of the world. Even though he turns nineteen in a few weeks and is stronger both physically and mentally than I could ever hope to be, he is still my boy, and I am scared for him. My other son is fifteen and this week was embroiled in some stupid conflict at school, a misunderstanding that had led to meetin...

One of the Best of Us

In the stifling heat my breath comes fast and heavy. What the fuck am I even doing here? What the fuck am I trying to accomplish? I'm sitting on the mat, maybe dying, a forty something dad playacting at being a fighter. This is my mid-life crisis, this is so, so stupid. This has to be the end for me, assuming I can get my heartbeat under control, assuming I don't just peg out here on the mat.  I can't do this anymore. "It's okay man, it's okay, you just need to breathe through it. You're fine, you're okay." The voice of my training partner, gentle and kind. My partner, the maniac that drove me to such a state, that I think I might die, he sits next to me and shows me how to breathe, how to calm my body. He teaches and guides me through it, and in a few minutes I actually am okay, the panic settles down, and maybe this isn't my last class after all. "You're alright?  Okay. Now lets get back to work."  And back to work we go. There ...

A Soap Bubble Nothing

I built a table, out of wood.  I made a thing that wasn't there before.  I cut and sanded the wood, I drilled in screws, and now we have a table where we didn't have one before. It is real and solid and you can touch it, you can feel where I cut poorly, see the rough edges where I didn't join the wood correctly, you can lift it, feel its weight.  It is a real thing that I made.  I made a table. This is not a table, this is a nothing, a series of random thoughts that I had in the shower, which is where thoughts come from. What if our souls are soap bubbles, what if we spread ourselves too thin, stretched out and flattened? What happens when it pops, would you even notice, would you even care? What if we are meant for something more? I am already behind schedule this year I've got work to do, I have things to accomplish, friends ask me questions ask for favors and all I say is yes yes yes and- What is this?  What am I hoping to do here writhing I meant to write "writ...