Wednesday, February 6, 2013

2013's Fruitcake toss was cold! Nevertheless, Mr. Fruitcake's latest incarnation (He's kind of like Dr. Who that way) was there at Manitou Springs High School dodging fruitcakes launched from air guns, trbuchets, arbalests, slingshots and other traditional means. To discover what we mean by "traditional," see the Secret History of Fruitcake Tossing after the pictures.

Mr. Fruitcake chooses to stand _behind_
the line of fire at
Manitou Springs High School.

"Duck, Mr. Fruitcake!!"
Wearing a helmet was the best idea, ever! 
 Manitou Springs High School.
Ooops! CO2 cannons have trouble working at 15 degrees so no cakes were launched from them.
The New Mr. Fruitcake is awarded his first honor - an offical Fruitcake Honor Guard teeshirt. Thanks, Floyd!!

The Secret History of Fruitcake Tossing

Implosion danger! Keep 'em moving!

In the Middle Ages, alchemists concocted fruitcakes not for food (I mean, get real!), but as part of a fiendish military experiment. They theorized that if a critical mass of fruitcakes could be assembled in one spot and left long enough for the weight of the cake to begin crushing the fruit, a gravitational implosion would occur. This implosion would create a mini-Black Hole which would propel the fruitcakes and any persons unfortunate enough to be around them out of this Universe and into a new, expanding, parallel Universe where the "primal soup" would consist of nothing but fruitcakes -- like a warmer and more vitreous version of Washington DC.
The thought of being mashed into a fruitcake universe was too horrible for even Medieval people to contemplate. In a famous lost chapter to The Inferno, Dante placed the Fruitcake Universe on the 30th level of hell, where bad cooks were condemned to endlessly heave leaden loaves into fiery ovens with only strangely chewy fruit to sustain them.
Medieval armies carefully separated their fruitcake munitions to keep them under critical mass and in constant motion. When a castle or town proved too well defended to storm, they would hurl fruitcake over the walls. The defenders were then confronted with the possibility of being sucked into a Fruitcake Universe, or (and worse yet) running out of food and being tempted to actually EAT a fruitcake. It is an historical fact that castles and towns subjected to fruitcake warfare ALWAYS surrendered, and thus the alchemists' theories were never put to the test.
But why take chances? Even today, our tradition is to not let fruitcakes sit at rest too long. We send them to relatives, who in turn send them on. The darned things are dangerous. Can't let too many of 'em assemble in one place.
That is why Manitou Springs has elected to promote the civic duty of all good people to keep those fruitcakes in motion, and dedicate St. EPR Bell's Day (the first possible Saturday after the first plausible Wednesday in January, skipping any year when Schroedinger's Cat is determined to be alive) to the tossing of fruitcakes.
Guests at BLUE SKIES INN are invited to spend a few relaxing evenings with us to prepare for, or recover from performing their (you must admit) unusual civic duty of hurling and heaving.

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