Wednesday, 25 November 2009

X-mas Earth Mother

I fucking hate Christmas. To me it appeals to only two sorts: the simple minded and people of a mean and nasty disposition. For the simple minded it is all the colourful lights and binary renderings of ‘Old Christmas Classics’ delivered through the genre of Musak that sets the synapses in their candy floss brains reeling. They temporarily regress to an infantile mindset and they grin and glow like an over the hill (5 yrs old) orphan when introduced to his new parents (who are probably part of a satanic cult who will slow roast him and serve up his marinated (in goat's blood) corpse to their coven), when met with the glistening of tinsel or the aroma of chestnuts roasting...

For the mean and nasty sort Christmas presents to them ample opportunity for verbal and psychological combat. With all the get togethers of friends/family, and all the alcohol drank, freeing up the constraints of good manners and protocol, this sort will engage in malicious and spiteful snipping on all fronts. Or they will sit in stony silence for the duration, like a constipated walrus, psychically transmitting to all about them that they are not to be approached. I am a little bit like this. I choose not to engage in any form of festive feeling. I sit like a deaf mute – in a semi meditative state, willing myself into oblivion – impervious to the enforced smiling and grating false cheer & insincere egalitarianism. I have often claimed to be a Jew or a Jehovah’s witness when Christmas comes around so as to avoid Christmas parties.

Today in Sainsbury’s (where I haven’t been in a while) I was nuked by Christmas visuals and awful pan pipe Christmas hits. At the top of the mall there is this fenced off Santa display. It is shit – standing around Santa are what have to be the ugliest elves I have ever laid eyes on. The look like haemophilic Cabbage Patch Kids. Santa I really didn’t notice much, so mesmerising was the ugliness of these elves. Around the elves feet, in very poorly arranged snow, is lots of money. Mainly silver and pounds. I imagine this is for some charity, but having not noticed any signs or anything, I am at a loss to say which. But whichever it is, this display with Santa and his ‘Make a Wish Foundation’ elves is an insult. I was so tempted to steal some of that money today to buy myself a bottle of beer. Next time I will bring a magnet and attach it to my shoe. I have narrow feet so I will slide one foot between the railings and suck up the money. But is money magnetic?

Also noticed in Sainsbury’s: Speciality Cheese. How is it speciality? What can it do other than be cheese? scour your saucepans too?

As well: Having fished enough change out of my back pocket to buy my bottle of beer I stand in the queue watching the customer in front of me who is at the till. She has one of those flakey ‘I’m Not A Plastic Bag’ canvas bag jobs. She takes out a bottle of wine and says ‘I have 3 of these’ then gets another bottle out ‘and two of these.’ She was asking the girl on the till to have a little too much trust in her I think. What did she think, this customer? That because she was a card carrying Earth Mother hippy flake the girl should believe she didn't have more wine in her poncey bag? Had the roles been reversed and the Earth Mother was on the till and the millie doing this, would Earth Mother have so quickly trusted her? Maybe she were trading on the Season Of Cheer’s ethos of Goodwill To All (Wo)Men? She can get fucked!

Is it cliched to be cynical at Christmas?

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