Curse this rampant cheerful behavior tearing across the land. When I fling open my storm windows, I am greeted by the unwelcome scent of Egg Nog Lattes wafting inward. At night, the ceaseless sound of carolers cavorting into the wee hours prevents me from getting the beauty sleep I so desperately need.
These unbridled festivities pose a serious threat to my personal sanity, and must therefore be stopped at all costs. Hey, someone’s got to be the Scrooge, and my unkempt hair, Victorian clothing and over-the-top English accent make me the perfect man for the job.
The zeitgeist known as “The Holiday Spirit” ruins donuts by giving them red and green sprinkles. It infests our television with images of Ronald McDonald leading children to a skating party in the forest, far from their parents’ prying eyes. It wantonly allows elves to walk amongst their human overlords in shopping malls. But do not worry, gentle citizens, for I have found the key to breaking this heinous spirit.
Using a makeshift centrifuge consisting of me spinning around while holding a plastic bag, I utilized the power of Science — which I will never again have to use because I’m in COM — to determine that the antidote for this Holiday Spirit is a good dose of Holiday Hate.
Now I know that “hate” is not an easy concept for most people to grasp, especially living in such a wholesome, tight-knit gemeinschaft like the Boston University Charles River campus, so I’m prepared to jump-start the celebration of hate by presenting a list of things that fill me with hate. Perhaps they will fill you, too, with hate, and then we can send those Mall Elves back to Hell where they belong.
Item the First: Technical Support Staff — The strategy of all technical support staff is to slowly whittle away at whatever spirit and resolve you have remaining after trying to foolishly deal with the technical problem by yourself. They achieve this through several means, most commonly by putting you on hold for hours at a time with only country music to keep you company and transferring your call to people who don’t know what they’re doing. I know this because I used to be a tech support person, and whenever I got tired of talking to someone I transferred his call to the Blimpie’s down the street.
Item the Second: Pizza — Am I the only one who thinks the combination of dough, tomato sauce and cheese is unwholesome and immoral? As the biblical saying goes, “Give a man a fish and he’ll eat for a day; give a man a pizza and he’ll burn down an orphanage.”
Item the Third: Child Labor Laws — Labor laws hinder our national production, forcing all our factories to move abroad where they can exploit the bottomless riches of child labor. I yearn for the days when women and children labored endlessly in mills along our fine rivers. Sure, fingers were lost here and there, and there was that whole tuberculosis thing, but if we just hide them from demonstrators with giant tarps, then they can go on weaving the wool that will make this country great again.
Item the Fourth: Laura — She just sits in the front row, answering all the questions and joking around with the professor. You certainly think you’re something special, don’t you, you brown-nosing know-it-all? Well, you’ve got another thing coming, missy.
Item the Fifth: The Election — Why don’t we just reanimate one of the old presidents and put him in office, instead? Believe me, no one’s going to refuse to concede to a Zombie Teddy Roosevelt. Bully!
Item the Sixth: Water — Ah, water, my arch-nemesis. We have fought many a battle in the past, but we always arrive at a stalemate. Water constantly scalds me in the shower, splashes me on the side of the road and makes me slip while in its sinister ice form. Water has mocked me for too long, and I have made it my personal mission to destroy it at any cost.
Item the Seventh: Your Back Talk — Don’t make me turn this car around, young man. And wipe that smile off your face. Do you think I’m joking? I’ll do it. I’ll turn around and we’ll go straight back home and you can kiss Disney World goodbye.
Item the Eighth: Mugar Memorial Library — Actually, this place just scares me. It reminds me of the first scene of the Dan Aykroyd opus “Ghostbusters,” which frightened me so much when I saw it that I wet myself. Hey, I was three years old, and that ghost is scary. Now, however, when I walk into Mugar, my brain goes through a series of unfortunate memory associations, and I can usually only make it past Napoleon’s Death Mask before I wet myself again.
Now, reader, you are armed with an arsenal of hate. Get out there and show those elves where they can stick those candy canes — into my hands so I can eat them.
Marley? Marley, is that you? No, Spirits! Back, I say! Back!
The winner of the Thanksgiving Fun Fun Contest is Kathleen McCarthy for her submissions “Casey, I’m wry. Nun mafia,” And “Nurse, I am a yam! Finc!” Congratulations!
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