On the subject of that classical Chris Chan Christmas, what always stands out for me, beyond the Fraggle Rock VHS shenanigans, is the star on the top of the tree being of Sonichu. The 1970s movie Invasion of the Body Snatchers. For those who haven't seen that amazing film, gradually, over the course of the movie, the city gets overtaken by aliens. There's less and less ambient noise like birds singing, dogs barking, or people talking. The paranoia mounts up as you don't realize who is who, and who's on your side. I mention it because by that Christmas, the invasive autism has won over its environment. Barb and Bob give up. They don't care about their shit presents, the state of the tree, or the fact they're having the same kind of Christmas they should be having with a six year old. How many Christmases before this one did they try to fight the onslaught, and tell Chris to get his shit off the tree, that his gifts were selfish, and that he was too old for toys? Then he no doubt gave them the autistic treatment of crying, going silent, sulking, not eating his dinner, wrapping his head in a duvet, or misbehaving in church. That Sonichu Star is the raising of the Autism flag over the burning Reichstag in 1945.
As for the latest video:
Chris Chan learning the sting of Ebay fees is something I can relate to, but unlike Chris, I seemed able to handle them alone.
What will go lower? Chris's decency or the value of Barb's BMW?
Chris yelling at the man in the earth-mover mecha is akin to uncontacted amazon pigmys shaking their spears at an overhead aircraft.
I'm excited to see the Spray incident, because it means Geno has caught up with when I first learned about Christian.
His belief Sega cared about his opinions might explain somewhat how his God-complex is tethered to other dimensions. Just like how he couldn't find the perfect girl so he became one, Christian couldn't find a congregation so he imagined one.
EDIT: Fuck, I’m really curious to see an artist impression of USSR Chris-Chan now!
He'd have been shot or used for food due to his inefficency. What might make for a more compelling story than the autist trying to find a boyfriend-free potato, would be the tale of the poor KGB/NKVD/Militia Man who has to wire tap the Chandlerkov Residence and record all the autistic screeching. Does he make the report to his superior, or keep quiet for fear he'd be shot for inventing something as absurd as The Pickle Comrade, Clyde Ruble, or the Borscht-fart video?
EDIT
Dio doesn't deserve to be done dirty like that. You tell your uncle to have some respect for the dead.
HOLY BARBARA, You've sat too long and you stink of pee.
Oh what's becoming of me