I insist on being most ornery and wishing everyone a very unPC Happy Christmas. Let us not pretend we know not what the reason for the season is (they play that song on satellite radio every 74 minutes) and call it like it is. None of this Holiday Tree and Breakfast with Frosty the Snowman for me. I want my Santa, I want my gifts and I want my fucking Christmas tree. But a tree in my sitting room? Then I began to think. Which is always rather tedious. Why bring in a conifer into the home? I am thinking pine needles stuck in the ball of my tender feet and all those accoutrements around the base. It is literally a tinder box ready to go up in glorious flames. A ded tree does not bring life to my Sitting Room but it merely reminds me of the horrors of deforestation. Porch lights are fine if they are meant to act as sentinel lighthhouses but my neighbors have action figurines and holographic present boxes. Electrified Santas will eventually plunge us all into darkness. Buy LED lights instead.
I do not do gift exchanges any more. It is rather a nasty habit. I like to make my own gifts (and I don’t mean doll’s houses out of toilet paper rolls but baked goods) and that serves a lovely purpose as you cannot place a $ value on them. The gift-matching calculus is too macabre to behold. Instead of re-gifting, I exchange for money or gift cards, which I can then give away to the home help. The groundsman, the maid, the paper delivery man, the post delivery lady, my very hot UPS driver and sundry deserve more than Belgian chocolates on discount at the World Market. I am for once delighted to say that materially I am more than content, I am sated. I do not need anything and therefore prefer much to be the giver. Except of course I can never turn away tea in any form. There are several charities that need funding and you should pick your favorites and rotate among them. Like manure, charity should be spread around for it to do any good.
Are people still eating turkey at the feast? Feeding an animal (ugly while it is) for months on end simply that it might be electrocuted, plucked, mutilated and roasted in wasteful and downright cruel. Being vegetarian can be bloody enjoyable and a cracking time was had by all last night at the Christmas dinner at home. Of course, we completely forgot to eat the lovely vin santo soaked (and I mean 64 days) pudding cake and German sugar cookies. M made his lovely cheesecake with a black chocolate crust and a delicious goeey cranberry topping. A prepared her legendary salad with halved grapes and a cranberry pomegranate vinaigrette. Bring out the Rieslings and pizzetti, who needs foul fowl?
I hate Christmas carolers who come a knocking in our subdivision. They are not exactly fetching to look at but they’re dreadfully out of tune. Also, do they not know of what theysing? Young people going door to door singing for alms is most anti-social. The lyric wallows in religious mythology, materialistic insanity, animal cruelty and celebration of feudal lords. If anyone ever gave me a partridge in a pear tree, I would be livid. Can I trade in my partridge for a Radio Shack gift card? Don’t think so. Being fully landscaped, I wouldn’t know where to locate the pear tree. It would be severely impractical . That is only day one. If you add all of the chattel, you have 23 birds, 17 women and 23 musicians. How is that for a lyric that is speciesist, misogynistic and consumerist? Give me a warm fireplace, a fat book and tea.
But. To R and M, I love my tea presents.
SBlog 