[Namron] Holiday ...Thoughts

[Scott Barrett]

At this dark and wintry time of year, I find it appropriate to reflect 
on the season. The consideration of the feast days and celebrations 
that clutter the calendar nurture in me a reflective mood.
It is the Yuletide, The Days of Christmas are upon us and a New year is 
about to be rung in. Capricorns are again reminded how unjust is our 
lot when others have birthdays at less generous times of the year. 
While children clamour for the attentions of a Turkish bishop who dares 
claim the right to determine "naughty" and "nice", this same bishop 
spends his days abusing his own inbred reindeer until the mutation of a 
particular nose proves useful to him, or throwing childish tantrums 
over a letter written by a mouse from a town of unaware, innocent 
humans. The dead walk abroad, bound in chains, forced to give warning 
to people far worse than they ever were, providing hope and salvation 
that they were never accorded. Guilt conquers each bread winner who 
cannot provide new computers, iPods, satellite radios and Netflix 
memberships to every second cousin and fellow employee, while family 
members who keep the family stable by avoiding each other are forced 
into the same room and expected to chat amiably, all the while bedecked 
in silly sweaters and chewing Aunt Mildred's Special Christmas 
Cauliflower Crumbles, the ones with the sausage and cranberry coating 
that she used to make as soon as they heard the BC Clarke's song on TV, 
which reminds her, does anyone know all the words to "Grandma got run 
over by a reindeer"?

My intent is not entirely malicious. I've no wish to see done what the 
infamous properties trader in London once proposed, when he said "If I 
could work my will, every idiot who went about with 'Merry Christmas' 
on his lips would be boiled in his own pudding and buried with a stake 
of holly through his heart!"
No, nothing so extreme.

Rather, I wish for you the best, the best company, the best food, the 
best feelings you can achieve. However, should those lofty and expected 
goals not be achieved, you may find these words helpful.
  They were once uttered under a moving train caboose by a disheartened 
illusionist who only wished to reclaim a piece of antique headwear that 
had been stolen by a faithless pet and claimed by local children, a 
common enough problem with today's self-entitled youth.

"Think... nasty...
think... nasty...
think... nasty..."
~Prof. Hinkle, 1968

Wishing you a happy holiday and offering my sympathies otherwise,

~Finnacan