From "The Banjo Players Must Die" by Josef Assad
Saturday, July 11, 2009
The Banjo Players Must Die
No one knew where they came from; their origin was clouded. Oh, there were theories of course, but there was no evidence. All attempts to scour the records of antiquity for clues were fruitless. No matter how far back in history you went, there they were. Running. Screaming. Pleading for mercy and receiving none. Their appearance did not appear to have changed much in the course of several eons; it suited Darwin's proponents well to ignore them, for they did not evolve. They were the universal constant; always there, always persecuted, always the fugitives from the oppressive forces of divine moral rectitude, and always - always - defiantly playing away on their banjos.