It's Christmas

We've been over-excited for weeks, saying to each other: “Bob Geldof is coming! Bob Geldof is coming!”. We decorated the house and took time off work. Family came to stay and finally we got physically agitated with the levels of joy, practically tap-dancing with anticipation.

Just last night we could hardly sleep. “Bob Geldof’s going to be here tomorrow” we said to each other. We believed he’d come, bringing pure happiness. His little helper, Bono, would fill our stockings. They’d medley stripped-down versions of a few 80s hits, stop for a drink, and be off to spread cheer across the land.

Now Christmas is here. And, like a whirlwind, he’s been. Gone before we woke up. Don’t know how we didn’t wake up while he was here. I guess that’s what they mean when they say he’s magic.

He’s left an empty whiskey bottle smashed on the kitchen floor. Put his fags out on our dog. The house stinks of something I can’t quite put my finger on. He can’t have done it single-handedly, or not just with little Bono anyway. They’ve eaten everything and left scraps everywhere. Trampled crisps and nuts into the carpet.

Finally we saw that Bono was asleep in the garden. He ran off as soon as we opened the window.

We'll block up the chimney next year. Merry Christmas, everyone!

Secret Cheer

Part Two

[click here for part one]

The disobedient were everywhere. Their disobedience took myriad forms. Many were arrested or injured, or worse, during the riots and mass protests that followed the order to cancel Christmas.

In the weeks that followed defiant people all over the country pursued resistance in a variety of ways: Liberate Christmas street parties were held in the middle of July. A mini-heatwave did little to deter folk from revelling in irreverence.

Cancelling Christmas: The Plan for 2019

Summer of 2019. The unthinkable is trending.

In the wake of national crisis it has been decided that Christmas will not go ahead this year. There is the further possibility of a total suspension of festivities until 2021. The Prime Minister cited stock market collapse and general unrest as clear indicators that the country could not afford to go into the winter season preoccupied with preparations for Yule.

She went on to say "These are supremely significant times for the future of this country - it is the responsibility and privilege of this government to ensure that we as a nation progress past this fiscally challenging and ideologically difficult time. With this in mind it is prudent to temporarily suspend Christmas. This will benefit all businesses and consumers in the long run."

in the grotto

It began innocently enough. We just had to wrap some gifts.

But Clive said he needed to get one more thing. I should pop down with him before we started wrapping everything up. I was against it and I know now that I should have stuck with my instinct.

blitzkrieg Christmas

We rush in out of the cold, the wind banging the doors behind us. Rain is dripping off our clothes as we push cross the marbled halls of commerce. We thought we'd been in a desperate throng on the High Street, but it was nothing compared to the forest of people we faced indoors.

Everything’s lit up and flashing. There’s a discordant mixture of noise – like the wounded are crying out over a festive soundtrack. The odd jarring objection, like an “oi!” or a "nah!" can be heard, as shoppers jostle for position.

We dart from corner to desk and back again, grabbing at items indiscriminately.

magic 9: 2nd attempt

I've been reading about the poetic form 'magic 9', which uses an abacadaba rhyme scheme. Here's my first attempt at writing a magic 9 poem. Different parameters this time -  7 syllables per line, as opposed to alternating between 5- and 7-syllable lines.

Here's my second attempt:

in winter: darkness's height
we get a family feast
and since we know it ain't right
when all is meant to be fine
just to scream and fuss and fight
'stead let's make a cosy scene
where the fire's glowing bright
we are together at least
with games: what a lovely night

magic 9: 1st attempt

Recently I've been reading about the poetic form 'magic 9'. It uses an abacadaba rhyme scheme. I don't think the metre is restricted, so I've chosen to alternate between 5-syllable and 7-syllable lines. Interested to get feedback on that choice. Below is my 1st, quick attempt at writing in this form.


cosy evening in
while wind howls all round outside
sing with kith and kin
games together in the warm
no matter: lose/win
we discuss weather always
laughing at rain, Lynn!
watch the fire burn: it's Yuletide
wine, whiskey or gin?

66 - The Christmas Card

This Christmas card came for someone else.
I kept it unopened for the longest time.
Now, in mid-January, I've ripped open the envelope.
This card is a better card than any card I got for Christmas.
They were bits of nothing.
This has been hand-glittered, and not by a child.
The postage is so different anyway, as I've noticed over these weeks of half-seeing it all the time.
One dollar eighty.
This is a foreign specimen.
It reads "PAR AVION" on a dashing blue sticker that's stuck across half its front.
Now, inside, I find the most delightful card I've ever had.
I will keep this.
The message is heart-felt and tells a tale.
This is the best present of the year so far.
Better too than any from last year.
In the box it goes.

55 - Christmas Detox

We've all overdone it. Show me someone who hasn't and I'll show you an enemy of joy. There is a time and a place though and now 'tis the season to be healthy once again. Having eaten until you couldn't hold the vomit down and drunk until you couldn't speak, hold a glass or dance, but continued to try to do all of those things, it's time to go in the other direction. Read on to learn how a few hours of exercise and a good lie down on the clifftops in the rain will help you purge yourself of those Christmassy toxins.

Swimming In Gravy
On Christmas Day that dip in the gravy pool seemed like such a good idea. Half-cut on your morning wine, you no doubt grinned sincerely as you bobbed along there with spuds and tender bird meat for company. Now's the time to wake up. You're still soaked in meatjuice and have forgotten how to walk. You're like a heap of filthy clothes in need of two hours on the hard wash cycle. The sooner you get yourself back on dry land, breathing fresh air instead of fag smoke, sipping green tea instead of 4am sherry, the sooner you'll look and feel like a worthwhile human being.

My Gran's Bosoms 
Let's face facts. Look in the mirror. Your eyes are circled with the stains of a thousand fag butts. Your face sags like my Gran's bosoms. You're letting the team down and I don't want to know you. You can wallow in your solo misery-fest, or you can jump back on board the Power Train, next stop Hot Body Town.

Be the Wind
If you can steer yourself away from the downward spiral of chocolate addiction and find your way to the gym then you'll soon feel like the wind dancing round the mountain peaks; like the birds playing thereon, thriving on nature's currents. You'll become the best version of yourself. Pert. Elastic. Smiling. These are all words that describe the you that will shine through.

Detox
A short list of foodstuffs, including meat, alcohol, coffee, dairy products, salt, sugar, anything processed, bread, cereals, rice, potatoes, pasta, is for this next week banned from your kitchen. In fact, don't allow these things near you. When all the idiots are dancing about like half-dead lunatics on New Year's Eve, raise a glass of fresh carrot juice to Jools Holland and settle back, safe in the knowledge that 2013 is going to be your year.

Get Yourself a Nappy
You've eaten so much rubbish that you could spend the whole day on the toilet without ridding yourself of the fire that burns in your bowels. Why not wear a nappy, or even two, so you can go about your detoxing business without having to stop for diarrhea breaks?

Your Brain Wants to Crawl Out of Your Ear
You've watched so many hours of TV that your brain is firing out tonnes of free radicals in a desperate attempt to end the endless intake of inane drama and brainless family comedy. It's time to test yourself. When was the last time you tired reading the dictionary from cover to cover? See how long you can last without falling asleep. Give your eyes something to think about. Next, is it raining? Yes? Good. Get out there and do some tai-chi on the clifftops. If it hurts, all the better. You have to shock the crap out of your system (once again, the nappies will come in handy).

Mysterious Bruises
You've drunk until you've got mysterious bruises and unexplained back pains (that's your liver threatening to give up). Now's the time to cleanse. There are many fine laxatives on the market, but one of nature's remedies is lemon. Buy one. Eat it whole. Wait. Soon you'll have a clean colon.

No Pain, No Gain
Some wusses say you can overdo it in the gym. Personally, I like to tear myself up. Now is the time to face your fears head on. Crush those demons. This Christmas you gave your heart a pounding, now the only way to undo the damage is to push yourself to the limit. Let's go!

54 - Santa's Prison Diaries

25th October

When I first arrived, and for days actually, I couldn't speak. I wasn't even that unhappy. I just couldn't bring myself to say anything. When they made me strip and they searched me and watched me wash myself, I felt humiliated but I couldn't even react. There were times when forming a facial expression was beyond me.

I felt like this lack of response could have had bad consequences, but I was isolated. Even when I did see fellow prisoners they reacted to me with a reverence that was embarrassing, rather than with the hostility that I watch them inflict on one another. Still now I come out from my cell, having spent hours staring at the walls with very little going on in my head to find people watching me, expecting something. Hardly anyone speaks to me. It is eerie.

28th October

People complain of the boredom, but I'm starting to enjoy this empty time. I'm in the swing of things. I like that we do little but eat and sleep. I like that there are few options. Also, the sun is shining brightly these days. Still can't find anything to say to my lawyer.

We are restricted of course and constantly reminded of all the things we are not to do. Quite a few people have softened to me and I find myself inundated with questions. They seem to want to treat me like an agony aunt, though most still keep a respectful distance. I have made a sort of friend. His name is Ernest. He seems to enjoy not only listing the practices that are forbidden to us, but also dreaming out loud about how pleasant it would be to gamble or carry whatever he might want to or to wander off without reporting in. I enjoy his company.

30th October 

I am writing this, as I've written all of my diary entries, from the surprisingly large library that overlooks the yard. The newspapers here are ridiculous. I've seen reports of abuse that I'm supposed to have received. More worrying somehow are the scenarios people imagine. I will become obese they say. I will bash my brains out against the wall. Apparently there is a very good chance of me killing myself. Again, it is like reading stories made up by children. If I am to be in here through Christmas then it will be my first year off in several centuries. I have in fact given the consequences very little thought. The freedom not to think is one I'm enjoying immensely.

4th November

I feel happy here now. At times I feel I could live here happily for months, though that may change. I read constantly and enjoy simply pleasures. I've become far more attentive than before.

Here is a dream that I dreamed last night:

I was starving on a wintry street and went in from the cold to this low-ceiling eating hall. Benches were ranged in rows and at every bench a row of men were eating greedily. I yielded myself to the warmth and music, which had an odd choral style. By a fire at the end of the room a few men, their shirts and scarves stained with meatjuice sang "Who is there who'll sing, the glad tides of your coming?"

At the bar, too, were men. These ones were sat on high stools, with their hats pushed back, wolfing down plates of gristle and bread. Their fingers dripped with grease. The smell was overpowering and I couldn't eat a thing. Somehow though, stood in the doorway with all this gorging going on around me, I felt calm. I woke up as if spat back out into this world. All that I could think was that as long as I can be transported to other realities in this way then I'm as free here as I would be anywhere.

Also, I am realising day by day how I'm now more relaxed than I have been in about five hundred years. Normally, even when my duties are as remote as can be I still have thoughts of Christmas swilling round in my head. Though I can't explain it, all of that's gone now.

53 - Comment: Santa's Arrest

An End to the Lies
POSTED BY AUDREY WALLACE 
21st October 2013

For generations children have lived in fear of a mythical figure, being told to behave well lest they incur its wrath. We have done away with so much that is superstitious and unscientific in our society, but Santa Claus remains at the heart of our communities like a rotting hunk of deception. As long as children are brought up to think that they must go to bed at a certain time, or obey certain instructions in order to please a far away man who will reward their good behaviour with toys then we will continue to raise wrong-headed slefish little idiots. Let's liberate our young ones from the bonds of these lies. Let's move on and leave the lies behind us.
CONTINUE READING
 
Can the Health and Safety Brotherhood Be Trusted?
POSTED BY COLIN BATCHELL 
23rd October 2013

Over the past six months, while the Health and Safety Brotherhood have been on the rise, there have been many alarming moments. Even supporters of the movement have found it hard to justify every move made by the radical group. Overhwelmingly, they have met with resistance. Until this week, however, no single moment had caused nationwide riots.

This movement, born in resistance to old fashioned values, with progress for all as their aim, has encountered a lot of opposition and yet its leaders vow to go on...
CONTINUE READING

The Simple Truth About Santa's Arrest
POSTED BY ADRIAN DAVIDSON
23rd October 2013

We live, let’s imagine, in a city where children are unable to receive gifts of any kind. The good news is that the cause of this problem is well understood and its solution, a storehouse of second hand toys, is easily at hand. The bad news is that our city council has been taken over by a health and safety cult that will go to any lengths to keep this cure for boredom from our kids. Some citizens would doubtless point out meekly that health and safety has a strong history in our city, and we must regard the officials with respect—to do otherwise would show a lack of respect for their freedom to ensure our safety.

Meanwhile, most of us—every sane person in the city, actually—would tell the officials to go to hell, put off worrying about the Problem of Risk till Friday or Saturday or Sunday, and do everything we could to get as many toys to the kids as quickly we could.

How have we let the officials at the very top of the tree get so power mad that they think they can remove Father Christmas from our lives? Let's take back what is ours, let's not allow our children to grow up in a joy-less world.

His Already Fading Influence

POSTED BY THEO LAPAVITAS

24th October 2013

Father Christmas may no longer rule Christmas, but his spirit will continue to be the driving force behind our celebrations. There is barely a family in the world that hasn't taken inspiriation from his jolly face.

Still, for my money, one looks to Father Christmas for the gifts: over 500 million produced yearly. Take his production line away and you'll cut off his influence. In a year or two children will stop caring about him. Memories will fade. His legacy could be lost. We're powerless to do anything about it but I for one will mourn his loss.
CONTINUE READING

52 - Christmas Cancelled

The Star

19th October 2013

The tyranny of the health and safety nuts reached dizzying new heights this morning when Father Christmas himself was taken into custody. After a dawn raid at his North Pole hideaway the bearer of gifts, still thought by many to be a jolly and well-meaning figure, was bundled into a snow-van and carted off to face his accusers. While the nature of the charges brought against him remains unclear, as Santa has long been a target of the misguided rage of our killjoy overlords, many believe that his time in custody is likely to last through this Christmas at least.

Onlookers described seeing a dishevelled and terrified Santa reacting with dismay as his front door was kicked in and he was led away. "He didn't say anything. He looked too shocked to move but just held onto a piece of toast from his breakfast, until one of the men in uniform knocked that from his hand of course."

The once universally venerated Saint was led away in silence as an overhwleming 'armed response unit' took mere moments to put his toy production operation into complete shutdown.

It seems his elves were powerless to defend their master. "Makes you think" said one of them "All these years slaving away. You think you know a person, but this just makes me want to leave it all behind, maybe go and learn kite surfing."

His workmates were not all of the same mind, however, and another diminutive toy-maker had this say: "We'll fight this. There are ways of doing things and what's happened today is a disgrace. I will love it when Santa is proved innocent and set free. One day these bureaucrats will get what's coming to them." Worryingly, this man was later seen resisting arrest on the charge of a public order offence relating to an incident with a hammer. Police would not offer comment on this particular elf's whereabouts.

As things stand the only confirmed details are that Father Christmas has been arrested and that his assets have been seized. Updates will follow as they come in. Let us know what you think of Santa's arrest, using the comments section below or #SantaSentDown on Twitter.