Christmas Wrap
Yep. It’s official. I’ve irrevocably crossed the line between Christmas excitement and Christmas apathy. How did I get here? Was it a sudden journey one takes when one has two small children and four days of Christmas cooking? Or was enjoyment of the festive season leached out of me over the years by such memorable yuletides as the Midnight Mass burglary of ’88, whereupon we returned home to find our house ransacked, and thought for a few horrible minutes that our dog had been murdered (turns out he’d just gone a-wandering after scoffing several lollies with which the burglars had bribed him), or the Mr. Lonie family feud of ’03, complete with drink-fuelled irrational yelling and storming out? Either way, not even a glimmer of this mythical ‘Christmas Magic’ that seems to exist only in the minds of Hollywood producers and supermarket executives was evident. I put it to you that the magic of Christmas is, in fact, a baseless fabrication, and present for your examination the following evidence:
If Christmas were a magical time of giving and sharing, the grocer would not have raised the price of raspberries by $3 a punnet.
If Christmas were a magical time of feasting, the white chocolate tiramisu I made featuring the above profiteered raspberries would have looked something like this:
Instead of something like this:
If Christmas were a magical time of gift-giving, my family would have requested this:
Not this:
If Christmas were a magical time of peace, goodwill and holiness, my book from Mr. Lonie would have been about something nicer than a father out to avenge his daughter’s rape. And Mr. Lonie’s book from me would not have been The God Delusion.
If Christmas were a magical time for children, I might have put some effort into the pretence that a rotund, hirsute and jovial man would deliver presents to our house over Christmas Eve.
If Christmas were a magical time of rest, I would have been asleep on Christmas Eve, instead of up with Master Lonie (perhaps that’s why Santa didn’t visit?)
But the most damning evidence against the existence of Christmas magic? If Christmas were a magical time of enjoyment, I wouldn’t be two kilos heavier now.
Hope you all had a magical Christmas.
3 comments:
I personally think that The God Delusion is highly overrated. Perhaps you should've bought Thus Spoke Zarathustra by Friedrich Nietzsche (my favorite philosopher of all time!) instead.
I hope you got into Dymocks when they had their 20% off sale.
Only 2kgs? Well done!
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