LETTERS FROM KRAMPUS: the First Letter to Anthony

Dear Anthony,

Truthfully, I have NOT been feeling it this week (even with Krampusnacht right around the freaking corner), and I was growing concerned; zero holiday spirit was falling into place ... until I got your letter.

Thanks, man. I mean it.

While I disagree that AI (artificial intelligence) could do a better job working with His Kringleness than I do for less time and money, I would welcome anything that would allow me to stay in Florida enjoying my life year 'round deliriously child-free. Unfortunately, while AI could be developed to talk a good (and threatening) game, it cannot bestow all of the gifts to the five senses that a real life sacking does.

I don't mean to brag, but I've been told that actually seeing me coming towards you is a thing, Bruh, and the screams and crying all weave together into their own symphony as the night wears on; the rest of the senses kind of have to fight for dominance and there's not much I can do about that. Lots of stuff happens to people when they're grabbed and stuffed in a burlap bag - and I don't judge, but there's a whole lot to smell, taste, and touch.

Oh my, yes.

I think the problem is not AI and everything that it might giveth and taketh away, but the human race's reluctance to use their NI (nominal intelligence) to make good choices and treat each other with kindness.

We can talk more about it when we meet later; oh, yeah, I'll be seeing you soon.

The Real Deal,

Krampus