Picture it: Violet Beauregarde, perched on her throne (aka her living room chair), surrounded by a buzzing hive of reporters, soaking up the spotlight like she’s the queen of daytime TV. And she’s not just telling the story of how she found her Golden Ticket — she’s performing it.
Her winning strategy?
Pause the world-record gum-chomping marathon just long enough to scarf down mountains of chocolate bars, snag that precious ticket, then snap right back to chewing like a champ. Priorities, right? Total gluttony vibes. But hey, anything for a little fame.
Violet’s entire identity is about being adored — by the press, by the audience, by literally anyone who will listen. Forget depth. Forget humility. Violet lives for attention, and she doesn’t care if she has to bulldoze over her own mother (who ends up standing on a piano to avoid being trampled) to get it.
Where’s Violet’s dad? Nowhere.
Where’s any form of respect or accountability? MIA.
Sound familiar?
Fast forward a few decades and you’ve basically got TikTok celebrities, reality TV stars, and Instagram influencers all vying for the same fleeting applause. Jesus warned, “Woe to you when everyone speaks well of you” (Luke 6:26), and Violet’s desperate need for adoration is a neon warning sign — not just for her fictional world, but for ours too.
Now Here’s Where It Gets Juicy
Roald Dahl — the genius behind this madhouse of characters — wasn’t just some quirky grandpa type making up bedtime stories. Oh no.
Here are a few facts about Dahl that might just make you raise an eyebrow:
World War II Spy: Dahl worked for British intelligence, mingling with high-level diplomats and influencers. He wasn’t just flying planes; he was flying under the radar.
Elite Circles: He moved among the powerful, including collaboration with none other than Ian Fleming (yes, the creator of James Bond).
Themes of Secret Societies: His book The Witches? Literally about a hidden society controlling the world from the shadows. Not exactly subtle, is it?
No confirmed ties to Freemasonry have been found, but honestly, he didn’t need a funny apron and secret handshake to be part of the elite. He was already running in those circles — the kind where secret knowledge, manipulation, and power games are just another Tuesday.
So Was Charlie and the Chocolate Factory Predictive Programming?
Think about it:
A society glamorizing fame-hungry, rebellious children.
Parental authority mocked and trampled.
Gluttony, pride, greed, and wrath paraded like badges of honor.
Dahl wasn’t just writing a kooky kids’ story. He was showing us a mirror — and maybe giving a glimpse into the values that would soon dominate culture.
Violet Beauregarde is basically the prototype for today’s fame-chasing generation: all spotlight, no soul.
And if you think about how convenient it is for an elite-driven world to have generations of people obsessed with themselves and too distracted to notice real corruption…well, maybe Dahl wasn’t just telling stories. Maybe he was preparing us.
After all, predictive programming doesn’t work by scaring you.
It works by normalizing the crazy — until you think it’s just life.
And Violet?
She’s been trending ever since.
Anyway, time for this Byrd to fly. Bye Bye Now.