A rant of epic proportions
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The Insufficency of Humbug
Astute readers may have noticed the calendar creeping steadily on to the most magical arbitrary date of the year, Christmas. That splendid and magical time of the year where we all still hate each other just as much and are just as pissed off as any other time, but now we have to pretend that everybody loves each other, peace in our time on earth, good will towards that rat bastard man, etc.
I suspect my position on the matter has grown clear already, but let me just hit a few of the high notes that grate with particular vigor on my sanity starting any time after Halloween.
To start with, let�s address the music. I am firmly of the position that if the music is so fucking terrible that it is only acceptable once per year, then it�s probably a good idea to just skip it then, too. There are of course excuses and cop-outs. After all, there�s a long tradition of utterly insipid crap being wildly popular, such as Raffi. Raffi, however, is targeted at a group too young to realize that the proper response to such music is unabashed violence. Their parents know this, but have to listen to it anyway. This, in turn, supports the hard liquor industry, and I benefit from that, so crap like Raffi gets a pass. Christmas carols, on the other hand, serve no useful purpose other than to inspire rage and hatred. The night would be a lot more silent if you wailing dupes would shut the fuck up. I have no particular inclination to cavort about in an open sleigh when I have a truck with this remarkable little device called a heater that will cause the trip to suck several orders of magnitude less. The little boy with the drum can just go sit on those drumsticks- aside from the saccharine message of the whole thing, what sort of retarded jackass starts banging away on a drum like Keith Moon in front of a fucking newborn? As for the classic and thus clearly intellectual �Dance of the Sugar Plum Fairies,� I�ve reached the point where I feel applause is the correct response should anybody take it upon themselves to shove an oboe up the player�s posterior sideways and then use the combined entity to set fire to an oboe factory. Possibly also a small cash award and commemorative plaque.
And Stingray is just getting warmed up...
Posted by DaveH at December 9, 2009 10:44 PM