The C-Word

There's no escaping it - Winterval is fast approaching. Sadly, the media at large are still insistent upon bandying the C-word about instead and our television screens are rapidly becoming clogged with 'Christmas' adverts. The one which is -so far - irritating me the most is the Sainsbury's one with that twat Jamie Oliver. You know the one - it starts with him in his kitchen wiping his arse with his pastry, or whatever else it is he does to get that 'specially seasoned' taste for his mince pies, when he pauses to ask: "Do you know what this really needs to make it a happy Christmas?" At which point I always think "Yes, hearing that your knackers have got caught in a mincing machine". Sadly, my fantasy isn't fulfilled, and we're instead treated to a Victorian-themed Christmas fantasy. Which, inevitably, enrages me even more!

I ask you, what could sum up the sheer hypocrisy of the so-called 'Season of Goodwill' better than this nostalgia for supposed Victorian values? Yes, I'm sure they did have wonderful family-orientated celebrations back then - if they were well-off. For the average worker it was still pretty shitty. If they were lucky they got some nice practical presents: a lump of coal to keep the fire going and maybe an orange to stave off the scurvy for another couple of days. Still, they did get the day off - what more could they ask for? But then, that's all part of the advert's message - Merry Xmas to all our nice middle class customers and a big 'Fuck you' to the snivelling working classes who can't afford our prices. The only lower classes they tolerate are the mockney tossers who like to flaunt that 'working class' accent to give them 'street credibility' whilst pursuing entirely middle class aspirations and lifestyles.

Bollocks, I'm ranting again, aren't I?