I've been informed that my last post sounded really miserable. I'm not! It's just easier to write negatively. There's more humour in hate than in love, which is weird. Maybe humour is a dark emotion like jealousy or spitting. It's great anyway!
In truth, I'm feeling quite optimistic about things. I'm looking forward to all kinds of cool things in the weeks and months ahead, like being back in Oxford and eating turkey (I almost capitalised Turkey there, which would have led you to believe I was going to eat the country. This would be false. My plans have yet to be finalised.)
Christmas is coming, the goose it getting fat. And yet there are no sensationalist news stories about a Goose Obesity Pandemic striking the country. I suppose it's because after Dec 25 or so, the problem seems to vanish for some reason.
Christmas has too much symbolism and myth. A little bit is fine, but it's a bit overboard. The Nativity is fine as your crazy mythical basis. Then you throw Santa Claus in there and things get cluttered. With both Jesus and Saint Nick in the mix, there's an excess of ego.
Then you throw in snowmen. And Rudolph. So, with this orgy of iconography, what do we put on top of the Christmas tree?
A fairy.
Jessus Christ, what more do we need? The Noel unicorn? Snowy Loch Ness monster? Jingle Bell Great Auk?
It gets confusing. Easter's the same, what with old JC and the Bunny.
I'm going to add an extra character to Halloween. He's called Humperdink the Asthmatic Hedgehog, and he creeps around at night leaving toothpicks and dirty syringes on childrens' pillows. And Chocolate Keith who's 800 feet tall and is enraged by brevity. That'll show 'em!
'#You'd better not move!
You'd better not talk!
By sunrise you'll barely be able to walk!
Humperdink is liquored up and pissed off!#
I can hear the children sing.
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