Everything we ever believed about the world, the universe and our place within it has now changed inalterably. We stand on the brink of a new age of understanding, knowledge and enlightenment that makes our first enlightenment look like an en-shite-enment. It’s hard to believe that only a few short weeks ago most of us monkeyish dunces were still labouring under the frankly absurd notion that the world was round. Round? Really? Our home is the same shape as a tomato, is it? Or a kumquat? The same shape as Gary Lineker’s left testicle? Christ, we were stupid.
2D or not 2D, that was the question… but it isn’t the question anymore, so just stop asking, OK? The truth is out: the earth is flat. Most of the best things in life are flat anyway: snooker tables, hedgehogs, Theresa May’s enduring emotional state. So see you around, round! Get out of here, sphere! Fuck off… em, parabolas?
This giant leap for mankind is all thanks to the dogged determination of a crack team of late-night talk-radio presenters who unilaterally decided to come off their meds; a nightclub dancer who once snorted coke off of Peter Andre’s back in the 90s, and millions of misinformed people who spend the duration of every shit casually yet angrily flicking through niche interest groups on Facebook.
These brave souls, our intrepid Flat Earthers – or just ‘absolute bloody geniuses’ as they’ll now be known – didn’t need fancy books, an education or a grounding in one of the major sciences to work out the true shape of the earth. They didn’t need ‘facts’, ‘evidence’, ‘corroboration’, or any other forms of Jewish conspiracy. They just had to open their eyes and look aflat. They pointed at the horizon and said, ‘That’s flat’. Then they pointed at the sole of their left shoe, and said, ‘THAT’s flat, too’. Thanks for lying to us all of these years, Stephen Hawking. You knew the truth the minute you realised your wheelchair wasn’t whooshing around the world at 6000 mph every time you took the hand-brake off. But at least you got some books out of it and an appearance on The Simpsons, you treacherous cunt.
He’ll be the first against the wall.
Think about it, morons. If the earth really was round, and spinning really quickly like the reptilian death-barons at ‘NASA’ say it is, then every time a little boy kicked a football it would end up in France – unless he was a French boy in France, in which case we wouldn’t care what he did anyway. If you lived on this unfeasible, magically-round earth and wanted to go on holiday to Australia, you wouldn’t need to fly. You’d simply get on a plane as normal, but instead of it taking off, a bunch of guys in roller-skates would lift the plane six feet off the ground, and then simply wait for the earth to spin round to Australia – like they were inside some planet-sized slot machine – before gently lowering you to the tarmac. Look out for that kangaroo, mate! Kangaroos, of course, if they timed it just right, would be able to jump from Australia to Scotland, so long as they took care to avoid all of those little boys’ footballs flying towards France.
It doesn’t really matter if you don’t understand the science that underpins the truth of the earth’s flatness, because you’ve no choice but to accept it. Clinging to a belief in a round earth is now a form of social suicide, and preaching belief in planetary roundness is now illegal, and punishable by death. Death by steam-roller, since you’re asking. That’ll fucking teach you.
The pioneering flat-earthers should be happy. They should be rejoicing. But they’re not: they’re angry. They’re angry that the global conspiracy took so long to smash; angry that their revolution took so long to happen. And they’re absolutely livid at having to use sphere-centric words like ‘global’ and ‘revolution’ to explain and contexualise their anger. So now, because I don’t want to go to jail for the next 500 years, I’d better start this paragraph again.
The pioneering flat-earthers should be happy. They should be rejoicing. But they’re not: they’re angry. They’re angry that the really long way across conspiracy took so long to smash; angry that their long journey across a flat surface that eventually doubled back on itself took so long to happen.
The movement’s most vocal supporters have been quick to heap scorn on those who worked to keep us in the dark for most of human history. “We were lied to, man, all these years we were lied to,” says former Big Brother contestant Dizzy G. McMastaBlasta, who now juggles his time between rapping and sciencing. “For years now, NASA has gotten up and down to the moon using a ladder, yeah? The rockets were fake, they was all CSI. Space, real space, is like a platform game, innit. Like Super Mario, but there aint no space turtles and shit, yeah? Actually I dunno, does space have turtles? Don’t quote me on the turtles thing, bro.”
Dizzy G. McMastaBlasta wrote a song about the round-earth conspiracy, which he recorded and released under his stage name ‘James Donaldson the Rapper’. It went straight to number 1, and will soon be adopted as the UK’s new national anthem. The song’s called ‘Big Flat Bitch‘.
“Yeah, yeah, it’s flat, it’s so flat, baby, yeah yeah. Don’t you be thinking it aint flat, it flat, baby, ooooh, you know it. It’s flat. Is it flat? Yes. Yes it is. Aint no doubt. Oooo, girl, da earth be flat. Maybe you didn’t hear me, girl, I said it’s flat, so flat, so flat it hurts, baby, oooooooooo flat, oooooooooo so so flat. I’m reasonably satisfied that the pattern of repetition in this song has left absolutely no doubt in your mind as to the flatness of the earth, girl.”
Judge Judge Judgeton (he’s a judge called Judge who comes from a long line of Judges) has released a list of people who are now effectively barred from serving in public office or from having a public platform of any kind. “East 17. Been around the world and there’s no place like home? No you haven’t, and yes there is, you disgusting liars. They’ll do life if I catch them. Ben Fogle. He’ll do 10 – 15 years. Nothing to do with the flat earth thing, just can’t stand the cunt. Who’s that wee guy who looks a bit like Simon Anstell and bangs on about astro-physics while wearing a succession of hideous jumpers? He’s off to the gulag, too. Zippy, Bungle. They’re dead. Dora the Explorer? Hung, drawn and quartered, the shameless fucker.”
A heavy sense of relief has rocketed throughout the world. Conditions even seem ripe for pushing the boundaries of discovery yet further. Rex Coltingham of the Democratic Americans for the Furtherance of Truth In the Eastern States (DAFTIES) is hosting a conference in Rhode Island next week in which he will set forth a new scientific agenda for the US. “Flat earth’s the first hurdle. We’re over it now. Next we talk comedy acronyms. That shit aint funny no more. It’s time they stopped. Then we move on to gravity. What is gravity? How does it really work? I’ll tell you how it works. The ghosts of tiny aliens, that’ how. And that’s a FACT. We’ve gotta be nicer to these guys. Wherever we go, they’re holding on to us, pulling down on our legs so we don’t float away. Asleep in bed? Twelve of these guys are on your chest. You go for a piss? They’re holding your cock so you don’t piss in your mouth. Without them, we’d all float off into space. That’s bad, because you can’t breathe in space, right? Wrong buddy. Your lungs work fine in space. It’s the space turtles that’ll get you, those hangry bitches.”
Good day, folks. And please remember. The future’s bright: the future’s a rectangle.