A story from my childhood.

There was once a little lad who lived amongst the purple pansies of The Royal Slaughter Fields. He was quite happy within his purple pansy paradise -- being surrounded by these perpetual symbols of thought reminded him of the importance of self-observation and quiet reflection. Although, on his more cynical days they simply reminded him of man's bastardization of nature, and he would silently curse the practice of forced cross-breeding.

But today was not a cynical day. Today was the day of the harvest, and this little lad was full of excitement. He had waited his whole life for this moment. Today this lad would become a man... but not in the way you would think. There would be no test or trial of manhood to overcome. There would be no marriage. No, this lad would become a man in a very real sense, for he would be eaten by a man.

The Royal Slaughter Fields were so called because this is where children grew plump and were slaughtered to feed the mighty royal army. To be eaten by these monarchistic soldiers was the best end a child could hope for... but it was not always so.

Long ago, this land was a Holy Technocracy ruled by intelligent and powerful technicians guided by the divine light of God. They ruled justly and fairly, repairing computer problems and fixing broken traffic lights with great speed and skill. However, there was an evil force brewing in the underworld. Discontent with the fluorescent lights used to illuminate their dark caverns, these cave dwellers decided to overthrow the Holy Technocracy.

Within the Realm of Souls that lied within the deepest caverns of the underworld, the Nine Blue Harridans of Desolation gathered together and summoned a mighty beast out of the Ossuary of Suffering. This beast brought great pain and suffering to the leaders of the land, and all appeals to their God seemed to go unheeded. And so the Holy Technocracy fell, and the greatest government ever known to man was destroyed. In its place was established the Tyrannical Domain of Anguish.

Life in the Domain was not good. Without the technicians, broken microwaves remained broken, air conditioners ceased conditioning, and text messages wouldn't get sent. And yet, in some dastardly twist of fate, people lived infinitely longer than before. Surely life without texting is no life at all, and so loving mothers would send their children off to the Royal Slaughter Fields to live a peaceful life amid the purple pansies -- a life which would be cut off quickly before they grew out of their childish innocence and awoke to the horrors of television without TiVo (and in the not-too-distant future, no television at all!).

And so this small lad silently thanks his mother for this gift as he stands up, flings his arms into the air, and is pulled away by a ravenous armored warrior eager to feast. The rush of the wind disturbs the pansies for but an instant, after which they return to their peaceful, purply existence, awaiting the next child who will call them home... for a time...