Alternative Christmas Message 2016

I'm going to be blunt.  2016 was a shite year.  We all know it.  Rickman died, Bowie went back to outer space, Trump is going to be president, Brangelina is over.

*Sigh*

What a time to be alive.

I don't know about you but I'll be happy of we don't get whipped out via nuclear holocaust in '17.  2014 may have been bad, but 2016 certainly gave it a run for its money.

The Christmas season is a time of hope and reflection... as so I'm told.  There hasn't been much good going on in the world this month, much less this year.  What with church pastors running into malls to tell children there's no such thing as Santa Claus, Muslims and Syrian refugees being made scapegoats for your country's problems, the war and devastation in Syria, and the U.S. electing a bigot and his  army of barbarous henchmen, it's hard to look up and say: "What the fuck is going on here?"  The argument I here from those who are okay with this stuff is usually  along the lines of "we're fighting the war on Christmas", "But those Syrians aren't going to follow Canadian ideals and we should protect our own", "It's over there so it's not my problem", or "we had to pick Trump because we were desperate."

When did we stop caring?  When did we as a society wake up and say: "You know what? I think I want to stop loving and stop caring"?  When did giving a damn become something's bad became a crime deserving of being labled SJW (Social Justice Warrior).

And this petty war on Christmas?  There is no war on Christmas!  Christians in parts of the world getting their head cut off for their faith and you're crying over Happy Holidays and a stupid coffee cup.  I suggest straightening your priorities before crying wolf next time.  Grow the hell up.  Need I point out that this Christian celebration was placed at the end of a Roman holiday and draws influences from Celtic and Norse cultures.

In times like these, we need to look out for one another, be a splash of light and colour in the black.  Think of the Northern lights.  In the empty abyss of night, even in places where stars are but a murmuring rumour, the Aurora Borealis dance and illuminate the black like magic.  Scratch that.  It is magic!  It stands out showing beauty and hope in a moment when you think nothing will get through.

This year we've had to say good-bye to quite a few people who have had an impact on our lives.  David Bowie, who made magic dance, fought against being under pressure, and taught us all about the starman waiting in the sky, left us early this year.  Whether you remember him for his music, acting or just for the film Labyrinth, Bowie will always have a special place in our hearts.  Not long after Bowie, Alan Rickman, Severus Snape, an actor whose claim to fame was first for Die Hard and later Harry Potter, left us as well.  While those films will stand out, Rickman has also graced films like Something the Lord Made, Love Actually, and Alice in Wonderland.  Finally, we also said so long to Gene Wilder - Dr. Frankenstein ("That's Fronkenstein!"), Willy Wonka, and the Wako Kid. Wilder will always be remembered for his for his comedic timing and ability to add a touch of weirdness that not even Johnny Depp could emulate.  For that Mr. Wilde, I hope you enjoy riding of into the sunset to nowhere in particular.

In closing of this message I just want to wish you and your families the best of the Christmas season and hope 2017 will be a better one.  Remember to love one another because we're all in this together.

A visit from Garbage Bag Santa

WARNING!  The following deals with mature subject matter immaturely.  If you get offended, it's your fault for reading it.

Garbage Santa on his debaucherous ride.
Illustration by Amanda Gallagher

‘Twas the night before the night before the night before the night before Christmas and all

through the dorms

The students were drinking, playin’ Xbox or watching porn.

Their laundry was strung across the floor

            In hopes that mom would wash ‘em when they visited her for a weekend or more.

Some were all nestled and sloshed in their beds,

            From binging and partying after exams.

I was a sleep, a girl by my side,

            Sleeping after one crazy ride.

When out on street, there came a loud beat,

            I fell out of bed to take a peak.

Out to the window, it slid with a bang,

            I even ripped down my communist flag!

The street lamp glowed yellow on the dirty snow

            And illuminated the highway and the landscape below.

Then, what should came to my attention,

            But an ugly toboggan pulled by eight tiny penguin!

With a funky old bum so smelly and slick

            I knew for a moment it WASN’T Saint Nick!

Edging and swaying they waddled and came

            As he shouted and slured each ugly bird’s name.

“Now Bastard! now Leroy! now, Mofo and Dumb Ass!

            On Vomit! on Stupid! on Shitard and Pissin’!

To the topf of the- orf- to the topf of the- blurp

            Nah dath awah! dath awah! dath awah all!”

The birds looked back and yelled at full blast,

            “Do it yourself! You stupid drunk ass!”

Stopped there they did and slid to a halt,

            With trashy Santa landing face first in rock salt!

And cursing and staggering, I heard him climb up the waterspout.

            He seemed like a spider that should be washed out.

So, up to an open window I heard him go in,

            Ready to commit some sort of nasty sin.

He was dressed with a blanket, from shoulder to knee,

            And smelt like booze and possibly weed.

An empty trash bag he held in his hand,

            He looked like a peddo, ready to make his stand!

His eyes looked dead, his face how scary!

            His cheeks were definitely like roses, but his nose more a rotted cherry.

The drool from his mouth dripped down below,

            While a Walmart bag hung from his ears to his throat.

The butt of a cig was stuck in his teeth,

            and a flask in his pocket to provide him some relief.

He was sinister in face and no sign of a belly,

            But that didn’t matter since he was so smelly!

He was lanky and drunk, a hideous troll,

            Who was clearly not there for a nightly stroll!

A glare in his eye, and the grin on his head,

            soon told me I had everything to dread.

With a swig from his flask, he went to his terrible work.

            He stole all our stuff!  The awful jerk!

And stick his middle finger high in the air,

            He made a jump for the window, wanting to avoid the stairs.

He thudded in his mobile, and yelled out a curse,

            And off the birds went, even cutting off a hearse.

I heard him slur as we end this rhyme:

            “To the bar boyth! I’m payin’ thith time!”