Wednesday, December 24, 2003

Christmas for me just provides an excuse for an end of year familial get together, which is fine and what not. I had never really thought too much on it previously, but I have now become relieved that Christmas means no more to me than that. Had I any serious belief or mood investment in the specialness of Christmas or any such crap, I would probably be a raving loon by now because of all the travesties visited upon us all in its name. I am a raving loon anyhow. Travesties just shit me. So, Christmas is completely fucking annoying, people. You see, for some reason, the "spirit of the season" brings a whole different set of rules into play concerning what is and what is not appropriate behaviour. The ground shifts, but not in a good way. Normal people can't do normal things without being berated about not being sufficiently "in the spirit", while crappy people can do extra crappy things, and, if the crap they do is linked in some indirect way to Christmas, they won't be called on it. For example, there's this weird guy at work who is always saying "God bless you" to the people leaving the restaurant, which makes everyone blanch and look at him a little askew. But for the last week, he's paired it with a "Merry Christmas", and somehow that makes it all doo-lally. Grrrrrr. And, stupid me, I just kept on saying "Have a good night" to the customers, because that is normal and unfreaky and all, but then my boss would immediately say "Merry Christmas" over my shoulder in an effort to compensate for my lack of holiday-appropriate farewell. Apparently, I was the one being weird. Why? Why? Why? So Christmas means the freaks rule, and for no great reason. It shits me.

Anyway, my thusly developed new feeling that the whole "being Christmas expressive" was a wanky exercise, ripe for abuse by charlatans and freaks, solidified earlier today. I caught this mid-afternoon newsbreak on Channel Seven and found it to be quite an horrid and odd and somehow offensive thing. Here are three of the news items that were considered urgent enough to get disseminated in a two-minute synopsis of the important news of the day; 1] "A helping hand from the Salvos and Seven News for battling single dad of three, Rob Allan, whose house was destroyed by fire", 2] "new Seven recruit Molly Meldrum gives his support to Melbourne's homeless", 3] "and Jennifer Keyte grants a little girl her longtime Christmas wish". Are they bonkers? For some reason, the fact of the date being Christmas Eve gave Channel Seven license to include blatant network promotion alongside its news delivery. I mean, that's pretty shitty right? And, usually, we could all agree on it, right? But now, because it is Christmas, somehow pulling that kind of shit is okay. In other crimes against humanity, [aside from Christmas t-shirts and earrings] people feel themselves terribly witty and completely within their rights if they refer to me, or to anyone else for that matter, as "the Grinch". Hilarious. Inspired. Meanwhile, I am an asshole because of piddly little things, like failing to incorporate a new phrase into my greeting repertoire, or being dismissive of the worth [aside from profit-making] of Christmas albums, or not wrapping my gifts months in advance, or not hysterically anticipating waking up on the morning of the actual day to see what 'Santa' has brought. Apparently, I deserve people's pity because I have 'lost' some of that youthful 'innocence' and 'exuberance' which is so keenly interwoven with Christmas. Somehow it's me whose not "in the spirit", whatever the hell that means. But Channel Seven is? You people are crazy. Leave me alone. I'm all humourless, and it's all Christmas' fault.

P.S. However, Channel Seven is not all bad. It does deserve great kudos for theming its summer programming as "brand spankin new", which, brilliantly, allows logo-positioning spots to remain theme-relevant and non-gratuitous even when featuring nothing more than close-ups of bather-swathed bums. Excellent.

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