“I like that too,” said Christopher Robin, “but what I like doing best is Nothing.”
“How do you do Nothing?” asked Pooh, after he had wondered for a long time.
“Well, it’s when people call out at you just as you’re going of to do it, What are you going to do, Christopher Robin, and you say, Oh nothing, and then you go and do it.”
“Oh, I see,” said Pooh.
“This is the sort of thing that we’re doing right now.”…
This excerpt is from Chapter X of A.A. Milne’s The House at Pooh Corner and, if you ask me, this is utterly disgusting agitprop, designed to infect legions of children with the powers of sexual self-awareness. Should we as a nation be responsible for leading today’s youth astray? I ask all of you as dutiful Christians to consider the 800-pound gorilla you have introduced into the room in your casual acceptance of seemingly innocuous prose.
A.A. Milne’s innuendo is more disgusting than Susan Patron’s filthy contributions to literature (also uncovered by Julie Bosman). If A.A. Milne were still alive, I would be the first to demand his immediate induction into the Megan’s Law database. I would be the first to expose him for his mendacious nuances — his clear affinity for deviance by suggesting “doing,” as if life were a veritable all-you-can-eat buffet without parental safeguards. I would not be surprised in the slightest if NAMBLA has not used Milne’s nascent pederasty for despicable intentions. (And when we consider that the above description occurs between a bear and a boy, perhaps the sexual implications here are worse!)
Much ado about nothing? Concerned parents might want to contemplate the following:
What does Christopher Robin “like” exactly? It is this lack of clarity that leaves much to the imagination. Patron, as horrid a Communist children book’s author as they come, may have stopped at a literal scrotum, but Milne is a far greater blackguard in his penetration into ambiguous territory. As a middle-aged PTA member still struggling to find a female who will assist him in populating this great American nation with decent 4-H Club-attending centrists, I can tell you with some authority that “doing Nothing” is a euphemism for what some call “choking the chicken” and what I call masturbation, a sin against God and all that Jesus Christ stands for! Urban Dictionary may have no decisive entry on this matter. But when I tell you that “doing Nothing” is street speak for something else, you must believe me. You didn’t listen to me when the slackers had babies and became grups. But perhaps you’ll listen to me now that this liberal claptrap has been propagated for many years among the last five generations of children!
If Christopher Robin and Pooh are “doing Nothing,” then why do they insist that they are doing something later? Why does Christopher Robin need a bear to justify his filthy masturbation habits? Christopher Robin’s throbbing penis (and his scrotum!) may not be explicitly referenced. But there can be no other reading.
And for this, I call upon you to remove the Winnie the Pooh books from your bookshelves, to put this filthy content into your paper shredders and then photograph these remnants and send your pictures to David Goldenberg at Gelf Magazine and Julie Bosman at the New York Times! If you do not want to shred your Winnie the Pooh books, then I ask you, in the name of all the ethical forces of America, to photograph a scrotum and send your photos to Mr. Goldenberg and Ms. Bosman, so they might better understand the Great Scrotum Threat that perils our children.
I have known David Goldenberg and Julie Bosman for many years and, while they have both avoided my requests for consensual copulation, I can attest that they are both individuals well-deserving of your shredded books and your JPEGs of scrotums.
Our great conquest against the evils committed upon children’s literature must begin in earnest today. So I urge you to send Goldenberg and Bosman your scrotum pics before you go to sleep, just after you finish masturbating, and just before you get those scrotum-based goosebumps while standing in the freezing cold.
And if my requests seem comparatively crude, please remember. This is not about you. This is not about me. This is all about the children.
God bless America!