Like untold millions of girls, boys, teens, moms, dads, grandparents, fantasy fans, midgets, and probably even a few people into homosexual animal polygamy I have greatly enjoyed the HP series. Started out fun and fantasmical and quickly turned into a dark story that keeps your blood pumping from page 1 to page 31,615. I am a huge fan, but I still think this book is sending us all to hell. I do not think this because it includes wizards, witches, unicorn blood, or even a chaste homosexual wizard who takes a strange interest in his 16 year old student. The little bit of wisdom I have picked up in my 27 years has shown me that it takes more than reading a book involving fictional wizards to send someone to hell.
Why then do I feel it will damn us all? Here is why.
The Harry Potter series takes these children by train from the boring, unsophisticated muggle world to a magical world of butter beer and love potions. The train to Hogwarts is simply beautiful. Pristine in every way. Not only that, the view is spectacular. Not only that, they have little rooms that are private and fun and comfy. Not only that, they have a cart that comes by and sells candy for reasonable prices. Not only that, they take this journey with their closest friends. Not only that, there is only one stop and that stop is freakin’ Hogwarts.
You know how your mom taught you as a child that white lies quickly become these hairy, ferocious, tangled webs that you could never hope to free yourself from? Well, if so then in this one simple detail about trains has told a fib big enough that is will send each and every one of it’s readers to hell. Maybe not the hell from the Bible, but a hell non the less.
The hell it will send you to is the hell where you decide a trip to Europe would be amazing. And it will be, but won’t be amazing is getting from one country to another. The “affordable” train tickets will lure you in and the magical tale that J.K. Rawling weaved of trains will make you joyfully look forward to your trip.
Suddenly it is train riding day. When I say day, I mean night because everyone advises to ride the train at night so you have more “day” hours in actual countries. You show up to the station dressed in your finest attire. I mean, you might meet a Slitherin and nobody wants to look dumpy around a Slitherin and get made fun of! Immediately your magical thoughts are dashed when you step up to the ticket booth and the ticket salesman and he tries to explain this confusing algorithm of a train schedule to you in broken English. You finally get your tickets just praying that it will take you where you need to go and sit down to wait on your train. You wait, and wait, and get coughed on by a old lady clearly from Eastern Europe (you can tell because the smell of communism), you wait, and wait, and eat a cold deli sandwich because Europe is too classy for a Mcdonalds, you wait, and wait, and….oooooooo, the train is here.
When I said oooooooooo, I meant ewwwwwwwwwwwww. The train is here and it looks sketch and gross. Despite the smell of strange cheese everyone rushes aboard, to wait in line as they walk down thin corridors to find their room. You finally reach your room and pull the door open. Where are Ron, Hermione, and your pet owl? All I see are three really creepy looking German guys who appear drunk and have every light in the room on despite the fact that it is now 2am. Oh well, at least that Eastern European lady isn’t coughing on you anymore and you can take this heavy bag, that cost almost as much as your entire trip, off of your back. But wait, reminiscent to the Germans from WW2 these Germans have taken control of all valuable land space. Bags, liquor bottles, trash, cigarettes are strewn across the compartment and there is only about 2 inches of space left on your seat. Leaving you backpack on you squish into the 2 inches and frantically look out the window every 5 minutes when the train comes to a stop and you are unsure if it is your stop or not. Eventually you ignore the stops and try and get comfortable and wait for the Germans to get the hint that you are both tired and claustrophobic.
The Germans do not get the hint. At 5am you finally manage to sign language to them that you are tired. Looking annoyed that you are sleepy they concede and let you pull your bed out. At 5:15 am while clutching your money waist belt for dear life you slowly find sleep. At 5:16am the train employee opens the door to check passports. At 5:17am a lady with a smelly sandwich cart comes around you buy one. It only cost 1 Euro! Later you will find out that the conversion rate meant you spent $515 on that sandwich.
At 5:18am you arrive at your destination. At least you think it’s your destination. Everything is in French and you aren’t really sure. Praying harder than you’ve prayed since that time you tried to sleep on a train with some German guys you step off the train just hoping this is your stop.
Suddenly you realize that Harry Potter’s full of crap, man.
The only solace you can find in the entire situation is that riding a train is still way better than flying RyanAir.
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