In the holiday spirit of Electric Venom, I must offer a gloss on a “Christmas” carol.
I hate this song. If I hear this song on the radio, I turn it at once, and sometimes I even turn the radio off for a half hour to punish the radio station that played it.
I mean, not only is it a bunch of wealthy secularists trying to shame the less fortunate into pouring money into the coffers of large organizations with large overhead to send pink jeeps and swag with cool logos to Africa, but it has fundamental flaws.
It’s Christmas time, there’s no need to be afraid
At christmas time, we let in light and we banish shade
Christmas comes on one of the shortest days of the year in the northern hemisphere, you pinheads.
it’s hard, but when you’re having fun
There’s a world outside your window
And it’s a world of dreaded fear
Where the only water flowing is a bitter sting of tears
This just in: It can’t be the only water, since if you’re dehydrated, your tears don’t flow.
And the christmas bells that ring there are the clanging chimes of doom
Well tonight thank God it’s them instead of you
Oh, really, now. Who expresses this sentiment at Christmas time except for Bono?
And there won’t be snow in Africa this Christmas time
Any fool knows that Africa is all jungle or desert, and this particular fool songwriter fails to account for the fact that Africa is a big continent with varied topography and, yes, snow.
But most of the continent lies in the southern hemisphere, where Christmas falls in the summertime. So the lack of snow is not because of the lack of giving by first world peoples.
Where nothing ever grows
No rain or rivers flow
That’s a pretty hasty generalization of Africa. They probably only mean the hungry parts of Africa, where nothing ever grows and it lacks water. You know what you should send peoples who live in those regions? Not food, U-Haul trucks.
Do they know it’s Christmas time at all?
Given the fact that 40% of Africans are Christian, I would expect they do. Come on, remember this guy?
That’s Archbishop Desmond Tutu. You know?
Here’s to you
Raise your glass for everyone
Here’s to them
Underneath that burning sun
Let’s raise a toast to the starving? Really? We salute you!
Then they go into that idiotic Feed the world chant.
Now, I’m a giving guy, maybe even a little more giving around Christmas. But I’m not into feeding the world; I am not like the gods nor am I full of hubris. I contribute food to the local food bank, support the church, drop a couple bucks into the red kettles, and participate in various YMCA fundraisers and charitable programs. I don’t remember if I’ve done my charitable giving manifesto or not, but I can tell you right now that doing what Bono tells me or having my consciousness briefly raised for a sawbuck’s worth of Western guilt-assauging when stimulated by a celebrity stunt ain’t one of them. I’m not trying to feed the world. I’m trying to make life a little better for my neighbors.
I can’t stand this hectoring song that somehow warrants heavy radio rotation amid the secular winter holiday classics that play when they go to all “Christmas” music. I mean, seriously, the radio stations go to Wilson Phillips singing “Hey, Santa”, Eartha Kitt mewling about being Santa’s kept woman, Band Aid hectoring, hippopotamus-wishing, and plying-reluctant-women-with-liquor-while-it’s-cold-outside. What’s the matter with a little Bing Crosby?
Is it any wonder I go to the record player and the vinyl still bearing my mother’s MCAS El Toro address label in December?