Deliver Us From Confusion

I cannot be the only one of my generation who has been scarred. Many crimes were committed against us as children, crimes that if were attempted to be perpetrated today, would be set upon by groups acting out of concern for our well-being. At least once a week, I awake trembling in a cold sweat, screaming “I DON’T KNOW!” only to realize that I am not threatened in my corporeal being, only my spirit is under siege. Visions of the Four Horsemen of the Apocalypse haunt me in my waking hours, and in their hands, they hold not the death of humanity, but that cursed book.
You know of what I speak.
Where’s Waldo?
Who among us did not fall prey to this excrement of a diseased mind? Touted as a harmless child’s plaything, these books forced us into neurotic statuses of mind, mindsets that would leave us attached, nay, stapled, to the oversized pages of books in a feeble attempt to pick out pixels among a multitude of other, deceiving pixels.
Who among us does not, to this day, quake in terror upon seeing a fellow human being in red and white stripes? For we know that while they may seem like they are Waldo, they are nothing more than imposters whose sole purpose in life is to confound our simple minds. Why are they here? Why, after all these years, do they still torture us? Yea, in The Book, it is written:

And thus, they shall read and look; they shall glance; they shall scan; they shall fritter away their meager existance in the glory of Waldo. Waldo, the one who has tormented from the waters of the Yellow River to the rapids of the Colorado, he shall be the one to lead them to us. And when they do come, we shall be ready, for we know how to deal with those who are obsessive (The Necronomicon, 987-89).

Beware my friends, beware. Shun thy eyes from those who don the Colors of the Nether. The time is at hand for Waldo’s Reign, and the only one who is able to stop him, Odlaw the Great, is prepared for our salvation.
Live in hope, my brethren.