Magic Makes You Lazy

You know what I hate? Narnia.

Narnia is shit, and I will tell you why. Progress. Namely, where the fuck is it? Everyone who goes to Narnia is all like "Tralalala, I'm not getting any older back home even though I've spent two decades here laughing and skipping and arguing with that stupid mouse because of that time I ed his mother a bitch". You know what that means? It means Narnia has far more time in which to get shit done.

Where are the lasers? Where are the flying cars? For that matter, where's the fucking microwaves, bitches? You people suck.

And not only have they had more time, they've had more resources. Think about it. If Albert Einstein had lived in Narnia, and he'd gotten a bit confused as to where he should put the squared into "E=MC", he could have asked his dog to check his working. Or at least go get the groceries in.

It's pathetic, is what it is. You think the White Witch would have dominated the land if the Narnians had slapped together a couple of Centurion Tanks? "You wanna shroud the realm in eternal winter, lady? I've got thirty talking squirrels with assault rifles who say you're full of shit."

And what is it with a feudal society? Never heard of the Magna Carta? You should at least be up to the level of proportional representation, thus ensuring that the talking mole rats still have a voice even as a minority party.

The Dawn Treader could have been a helicopter, and the search would only have taken a couple of days. Prince Caspian could have avoided bloodshed by calling a vote of no confidence. A Horse and His Boy would still be a bit boring, probably, but at least there could be some robots or something in it to spice things up.

Actually, I bet I know who's to blame: the unions. All those whining talking horses bitching in thick accents about how the ponies can't work down't pit for more than three hours a week else the fields won't get ploughed and King Obooloobo can draw his gilded carriage around his bloody self.

Clearly what Narnia needs is its very own Margaret Thatcher. Where's a White Witch when you need her, eh?