If like me you live on the small island of Englandshire-upon-avon-ton, you will have recently celebrated Jesus baby Jew day. Or as we like to call it, Christmas for short or ‘Xmas’. Which happens to be a really lazy abbreviation of ‘Christ’s mass’ or from the old English Anglo Saxon speak ‘Crīstesmæsse’.
Being a non-Christian myself I have no desire to celebrate the birthday of someone’s else’s child, especially one born in a shed, under suspicious circumstances. But I don’t mind the tradition of exchanging gifts, as the three wise men did in the heavily edited version of the bible people in England seem to prefer.
Myrrh, now that’s a strange gift to give anyone. You’ve just given birth to a boy in ancient times, with no medical assistance, being watched by a donkey and the one thing a ‘wise man’ deems to be the ideal gift for the baby, is a plant used in Ayurvedic medicines, which smells nice when you burn it. I guess when buying for the son of god, you would have a hard time walking around the local market, thinking of something he’d like. But he was a new born, so really everything you buy is a waste of time as all he’ll do is eat, or poo on it.
After a brief investigation, the plant could have been for Mary, the person who really needed some comforting after the ordeal of natural birth with no drugs, in a shed.
Reading about Myrrh on Wikipedia, the plant in one photo looks strangely like a uterus (bottom left of picture)…myrrh has been known for its ‘blood moving’ properties…like removing stagnant blood from the Uterus. Check it out…
This reminds me of recent scientific findings that walnuts are good for the brain and that kind of thing…the theory is, if the food bears a resemblance to a part of a human being, then it very well might be good for it. Then that does make you think, fish is a good source of nutrients for the brain…what does a fish look like? A fish. Maybe they’re wrong, maybe they meant face. A fish is just a face that swims.
I can’t find a comparable pain to child birth in my imagination, except perhaps several hours of Xmas shopping, sorry, Christ’s mass shopping.
People complain about how lazy the English language has become in recent times, proclaiming that it is now ‘dumbed down’ and lazy txt spk. In reality, they’re right, but many of us don’t even have time to speak properly anymore, you might as well carry a stop watch with you in Britain, because at every opportunity someone or something, is trying to encroach on your personal time. You can’t park anywhere legally in England unless you park well away from where you require to be, and when you do find a small section of legal land for your earth scarring 4×4, you have a set time limit to shop, to then run back to the car before one of the faithful drones for the local council ruin your day.
Traffic wardens in today’s Britain wear a seemingly Nazi styled uniform, utilising CCTV and an array electronic equipment, they take several photographs of you vehicle from different angles and upload them onto the internet, like a social media activity for cunts.
I guess the only good thing to come from the traffic gestapo, is that if you’re caught, you can save the photos from your local council website and use them for use in advertising your car, once they have repossessed your home.
When Christmas shopping in Britain you’ll require body armour, a strong will, and good time keeping. When you finish work, you’ll have only several minutes to rush around the retail hell that is the British high street, with your head down, looking up briefly to acknowledge the till jockey, who stares rather blankly at you whilst they ponder just how long their new career at ‘Mint Toyz’ is going to last.
In England you’ll find that advertising Christmas, gifts and Christmas food related items, begins before Halloween and end’s the second Boxing day is over (when the Easter eggs come out). We spend over three months saving, planning, panicking about gifts only to then have a couple of days to quickly exchange them between friends and family.
Here’s something typically British, a Christmas cracker joke…
Who’s the bane of Santa’s life?
The elf and safety officer.
I remembered this rather depressing joke as I watched shoppers shuffling ass to face, slowly trying to escape the shopping arcade in my town, with the occasional muffled warnings from an electronic traffic cone. Yes that’s right, as we all trampled on each other, bumping bags of overpriced child labour, a lone electronic traffic cone, complete with red flashing light, warned us that the floor was indeed wet and therefore a slip hazard.
Santa wouldn’t give a toss about health and safety, he literally invented the sweat shop…little people in uniform, working for what appears to be nothing but a little praise every twelve months, never seeing their elf families again.
Thinking about it, who are their families? I guess they all work and breed there. They’d have to raise their children for work, adorn that vile outfit and make toys continuously for several months.
So what did Santa bring me this year? Apart from the obvious, alcohol and socks, here are a few things the creepy man with a beard left me.
A hot water bottle, complete with machine knitted union jack cover.
Often I am too drunk to realise the bed is cold but on the odd occasion I will have the patience and dexterity to pour near boiling water into this rubber bag, I do find this a valuable bedtime accessory.
Bathtime commando shooting game.
Become your own fantasy firing squad by lining up these four super heroes and shooting them in the face.
Comes complete with what looks like a German Luger and four super heroes. I’ve no idea what they’ve done but I’m assuming in this scenario I’m the bad guy as they’ve named the characters ‘hero’s’ and I’m the guy with the gun.
Diver on a plug
Another bath time accessory. I’ve no idea why I’m collecting bath related items this year. I guess anyone in my family knows I prefer baths to showers, they’re just much easier to do. You come into the bathroom, turn on the taps and walk out. After wandering around nude for a while, you stroll back in, turn off the taps and then just lay horizontally in a tub of warm water. A shower is an awful activity, it’s like standing in rain, turning around constantly, spitting out water and wiping soap out of your eyes.
Salt water powered car
Most of us who have bothered keeping up with science (not the science on TV) know we can run a car on anything from cow piss to the sun already, but there is still many years of foreign oil to use so until then, petroleum it is. It’s also, in my opinion a long long way off becoming the norm, due to the fact any huge manufacturing plant cannot run on salt water alone and cars are generally not made of recycled birthday cards, so we’ll be using steel, rubber, glass etc until it’s all gone. Still, a fun gift though.
Solar powered gadgets, six in one.
Similar to the gift above except this one runs on sun light. Six gadgets, in one box, apparently. I imagine if you showed this to a child in the 50’s this would blow their minds. Even more amazing is thinking that in fifty years’ time, kids will be throwing away their six in one, zero point energy toys, whilst their parents reminisce about the time we could actually see the sun before the toxic dust clouds formed over the earth.
Physics of The Future; by Michio Kaku
This guy’s work interests me, he looks into the future of physics and technology by actually listening and learning to science and scientists. Instead of just making shit up because you’ve seen i-robot. No flying cars, no instant pizza making machines, no lazer weapons, just interesting thoughts and progress within our scientific world.
Marvel Chronicles – A year by year account
Probably my favourite gift of the lot, my partner bought me this chronicles of Marvel because myself, like any other man out there, has fantasied at one time or another being a member of the Xmen or being Tony Stark. It comes with glossy factual pages, year by year account of what was going on at the time, as well as exclusive art work throughout.
So that concludes my 2012, the world didn’t end, it was never going to…but then you would have known this if you actually bothered to read an entire paragraph on the subject and not a shoddy dooms day article from a newspaper who sticks Jimmy Saville on the front page.
Your new year’s resolutions this year should be, stop watching/paying for TV license, don’t buy or read newspapers, get creative no matter how small the subject is and share my blog, to as many people as you know.
So happy new year, and have fun!