I reckon they got the last line of that revolting Christmas song wrong. Instead of going 'you'll go down in history' it should be 'the biggest schmuck in history'.
Long time readers won't be surprised to hear me repeat that I hate Christmas with a passion. Newer readers can go read what I wrote about it in Decembers 2004 and 2005.
It just amazes me how people I would consider reasonably sane at any other time of the year can so lose all sense of dignity at *this* time of year.
It reminds me of the similarly disgusting spectacle one beholds when someone fronts with their new baby. By any reasonable standard you'd have to totally disagree with the parents and assert that the newborn looks like it was beaten with the ugly stick. But not a bit of it. Instead of politely agreeing (whilst privately disagreeing) that said newborn is the most beautiful thing on the planet most people, in my experience, lose any sense of aesthetics and strive to outdo the doting parents.
The parents can be forgiven, especially the mother. She's carried this thing around for the best part of a year and faces the uphill task of cleaning up after it for at least the next two decades; can anyone blame her for striving to find some redeeming feature that will justify the effort? As for the proud fathers, they're just embarassing the way they strut about as though they'd just done something no one else in the world could ever do!
Like *that* was ever a difficult task!
And then, faced with the newborn aforesaid, most people forget that they once spoke the proud language of their forefathers (whatever that language may be) and descend to the most disgustingly silly noises imaginable. And not, sad to say, only when faced with a newborn. My wife, when dealing with her grandson of eighteen months, resorts to such subterfuges as throwing a blanket over him (good sense there!) and then exclaiming 'where's Ryan?' in a tone of voice suggesting that she really doesn't know where the poor bastard is!
Hmmmmm I sometimes have grave doubts about my wife!
But back to Rudolph. Think about it. Here we have this poor innocent (so far as we can tell from the song) red nosed reindeer being put upon in a most shameful fashion by the other reindeer on the grounds that he has a red nose! Kind of like being the red haired kid at school. Or, as I was, the kid who isn't interested in sport!
And then one foggy winters eve these exclusionist reindeer, realising that they're up the proverbial creek without a paddle, turn around and schmooze up to Rudolph. For the entire year he's been the outcast because of that damn nose but *now* they need him. Hypocrites! And Rudolph, schmuck that he is, goes along with it! I bet come the end of Boxing Day it's back to the status quo and that red nose is once again a target of ill natured abuse!
What a schmuck! I bet you can guess what I'd have said to them if I'd been Rudolph. But I don't use that kind of language in my blog!
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