Once more and once less. It’s over, folks. The day of the year most eagerly anticipated by the bucolic majority, deplored by the misanthropic minority, and ignored by the tiny but resolute band of antiChristmasians.
So what was it all in aid of for you, that laborious inscribing of cards, wrapping up of presents, hours spent in the kitchen slaving away over a hot bird – read that how you will - the last-minute dash to the thronged shops? The inordinate guzzling and boozing, the hollow-hearted backslapping and insincere joviality exchanged between family members and acquaintances you haven’t set eyes on since last Christmas, or maybe even longer, and have no intention of keeping in regular touch with? And now the hangover?
Here in the burrow we carried on as normal, with just a touch or two of festive fare. No-one ate or drank too much, but we all had plenty. We are not pissed off.
But almost everyone else seems to be:
Children – who of course rule this particular roost – are pissed off because they didn’t get all the prezzies they hankered after.
Parents are pissed off because, after all their frantic efforts and overheated spending “for the sake of the kids”, the kids are still pissed off.
Shopkeepers are pissed off because the punters didn’t spend “enough” this year [they never do, according to the trade associations].
The Queen is pissed off because not even Alf Garnett stands to attention for her Christmas broadcast any more.
Christians are pissed off because nonbelievers have once again “hijacked” Christmas, and some devilish Politically Correct trolls are even scheming to abolish it and hand it back to the Pagans, from whom the Christians originally stole it.
Non-Christians are pissed off because of all the moans and wails of the Christians, and the latters’ insistence that the “real” meaning of Christmas is all the Gospel mumbo-jumbo about virgin births, no room at the inn, three wise men, Herod’s paedophobic spree, etc. etc.
Santa is pissed off because there are scarcely any chimneys left that are wide enough for his Santamobile to descend, so he has to clamber down himself getting all sooty and dirty. Also, he has to stable and feed the reindeer for all the rest of the year with little productive result except mounds of reindeer shit.
The reindeer are pissed off because Rudolf made it big to stardom, and they are still just walk-on parts.
