Christmas is upon us. Or is it? The actual start date for the holiday has long been disputed, so we’re holding a non-binding vote to sort it out. Vote now!
It is a truth universally acknowledged, that a person in possession of a Christmas Tree is in want of putting it up. The primary question is of when. Now, I feel awkward bringing this up, as we’re a divided enough country as is, and I’d rather not add another disparate cause for us to unite against each other, but it’s too late, as I’ve already started typing.
For some, Christmas starts with the retailers, the seconds after the clock strikes twelve on October 31, as mental decorations hurled in the bin soon after the last forced boo from a school-age skeleton is heard, or the last cocktail from their teacher wearing the requisite salacious equivalent is imbibed. For those people, November 1 represents the unison march of identical Christmas Eves until December 24; and absolutely for those, criticism of an early erection will see the rusted barbed wire of opinion wound around the Christmas Tree in lieu of tinsel, to ensure that those who admonish the presence of the tree will not get to enjoy said tree. For instance, a close friend and close business colleague delivered Christmas tidings in the form of a Snapchat, revealing her company in the above. The child they had press-ganged into assembling the tree/picking a side also seemed to subscribe to that particular theory.
What I feel we need, is an unequivocal answer, polled by the populace, in a completely non-compulsory, non-binding way.
Do you accept that? Probably not. For those who disagree, the Christmas spirit is a fine liqueur, best kept under lock and key until the days it actually feels like it, not before, as an excessive sampling the wares will see a reduction of said spirit, and will leave one hungover when the day arrives. The best course of action for the other side of the argument is jimmying the cabinet open on the final hours of December 24, chugging the entirety of the bottle, and soundtracked by George Michael’s hopeful promise of a different chrimbo love, a furious action of last-minute thoughtless retailing and the quicksilver decoration of a tree that looks like it has been recently assaulted by a randy Silverback defines the holiday. Now, that’s Christmas.
That being said, for those who are thinking that there is no right answer, please see me after class. What I feel we need, is an unequivocal answer, polled by the populace, in a completely non-compulsory, non-binding way, so please, don’t forget to vote below. Or don’t. We can’t force you.