[This letter - purportedly addressed to Andrew Davenport, Co-creator and writer of the Teletubbies - was recently forwarded to us in Shanghai for unknown reasons. Considering it had some measure of hyperstitional significance, we are reproducing it here.]
I am troubling you with this letter both to elicit information and to express certain concerns. Hopefully, it will be evident that it is written with the very greatest respect, from one long schooled in the arcane sciences to another.
Having carefully studied your popular children’s television show ‘Teletubbies’ for many years, I am confident I have gained a basic mastery of its essential content. Please forgive me if I suggest this understanding was acquired with greater ease than is altogether healthy, or compatible with appropriate hermetic prudence on your part. To be frank, the teletubbies wear their occult pedigree on their furry jumpsuits - their direct derivation from the five diplodemons of Sumatran time sorcery being starkly apparent to any but the most vegetative ignoramus.
Thus, the obvious question arises: what happened to the fifth Teletubby?
Please understand that I am not questioning the necessity of this excision. It goes without saying that the ‘supervisory authorities’ (of which, I trust, no more need be said) would have demanded it, if an elementary instinct for self-preservation had not already done so. Only a lunatic would fight for the right to spread Pentazygonic Lemurianism among the world’s infants. So my uttermost discretion can, of course, be assumed.
Nevertheless, my question remains. While theories and speculations on the topic of the ‘missing fifth’ are abundant in the relevant literature (where Noonoo, the Baby Sun, even the infant viewer have been proposed) these can all, in my humble opinion, be dismissed as groundless. The missing fifth must for obvious reasons of arcane science be of the same Suprageneric type as its four Similarchons, with appropriate discriminative name, height, intonation, colour-coding, antenna-form and magical weapon.
At the risk of self-contradiction, I must now append my warning to this request. While frustrated by the inaccessibility of the information specified above, I am also alarmed by the denuded hermeticism characterizing your show. Although we initiates of the arcane circle have long-understood that the future of religion on this planet approximates far more closely to the Teletubbies than to any existing organized faith, is it entirely wise to pronounce this truth so baldly to an ill-educated public? Such things have been occulted for a reason, I am sure you would agree.
Was it really necessary, for example, to so exactly portray the hideous ecstasies of the Tzog-Murtha ritual? A glistening vortex activates and the beings moan “Uh oh,” their eyes droop with bliss and they fall on their backs in technocosmic delirium. After the ‘big hug’ (is no blasphemy to be hidden from the world’s toddlers?) they clamber up ‘a hill’ and stand in the loose spectral formation, their antennae illuminated by the transmission and their belly monitors sparking with static from the Outer Spheres, as they await the Chosen One. It is rare indeed for even the most determined investigators into this abominable rite to have witnessed it unflinchingly portrayed in such comprehensive and graphic detail.
Even those entirely innocent of the Tzog-Murtha cults cannot but be struck by the sorcerous inclinations of the show, with its incantations and manifestation of objects through “songs.’’ More provocative still is the Baby Sun who mocks God the Father, Logos and the universe of adult authority with its inarticulate burblings and chaotic mirth.
These incautious references are given a further ominous twist by the blatant Lemuro-Cybergothic dimension of the teletubby mechanoverse. Those the Chinese insightfully translate as the “Antenna-babies” (Tianxian Baobao) are the fully cyborgian inhabitants of a futuristic underground bunker whose ‘parents’ have been replaced by an semi-intelligent autonomous vacuuming unit called Noonoo, combined with a complex subterrestrial acoustic apparatus. Their highly-synthetic diet, produced entirely by machines, consists exclusively of ‘tubby custard’ and ‘tubby toast’ a reiterated affront to the very idea of organic nourishment.
Finally, allow me to draw your attention to a recent article by media commentator Rev. Douglas Frushlee entitled The Tubby Minions of Satan. In this piece, intended to warn parents against the show, he describes it as an “unrelenting festival of bionic barbarism” and refers explicitly to “Indonesian demonism.” If Frushlee, who in all charity is not the sharpest pencil in the box, can be picking up so clearly on the occultism of the series, you can be confident that more sophisticated and powerful minds are tuning in to it as well, with consequences scarcely to be imagined.
Thank you sir for attention to these matters
P. B. Carruthers
Source? I'd only tell you if you already knew.