Whanganui Chronicle

Bah humbug!

Christmas has been hijacked

- Kate Stewart

Why the bloody hell can’t Father Christmas just stay an old, fat dude with a white beard and red suit, and who the hell is it hurting if he remains that way?

I’ve been patiently waiting for the latest X-rated Xmas scandal to hit the headlines. The one where Rudolph the Red-Nosed Reindeer is accused of being a communist spy, complete with his high-tech implanted nasal device — supplied by Huawei, of course.

The killing off of Christmas spirit seems to have become mandatory of late.

Songs banned from the airwaves, a Santa fired, then rehired due to public backlash (proof common sense can still prevail), and an embittered teacher telling kids that Father Christmas and flying reindeer don’t exist are just a few of the stories recently in the news.

What’s with this need to take ageold traditions and give them a politicall­y correct revamp and/or modern spin . . . and do they really benefit from it?

Why the bloody hell can’t Father Christmas just stay an old, fat dude with a white beard and red suit, and who the hell is it hurting if he remains that way?

I use to think lunatics only appeared with the full moon . . . now I’m not so sure.

Fanatics and extremists are pervading society with the putrid aroma of their propaganda, trussed up like a Christmas turkey that’s been warped and twisted to fit their outrageous agendas.

Take the recent furore over the Oscar-winning song Baby, It’s Cold Outside.

From the 1949 movie musical Neptune’s Daughter, I’m baffled as to how critics only take exception when the woman is allegedly been “pressured” to stay.

No cries of outrage, though, when later in the song the roles are reversed and it’s a bloke fending off a forceful female.

Without even knowing the movie, naysayers just honed in on the version that is commonly played on the airwaves.

A classic case of a bandwagon driver launching their unsound vehicle before looking both ways.

All those Christmas Scrooges out there, hellbent on hacking up the idea of happy holidays, need to lighten up and take some time to sit on Santa’s knee . . . where they should ask for a bigger mind to replace the tiny, pathetic one they already have.

Alternativ­ely, they could hang up a gender-neutral stocking in the hope it will be filled with a spine to compensate for the one they lost when they allowed everyone else to dictate to them what’s acceptable.

Can’t we just leave well enough alone and simply accept that not everything is made better with an update, PC or otherwise.

If you want to create your own traditions, go for it, but you don’t have to wipe out century-old beliefs and customs in the process.

And before you criticise a nearly 70-year-old song, you might want to remember that way back then not everyone had their mind in the gutter, actively looking for some lurid detail to latch on to in the name of furthering a cause.

Replacing traditions with trends has, itself, become a trend. It’s the trend that needs killing, not the tradition.

In a world that tells us to honour our past, I find it sad and ironic we seem so eager to harpoon our own history in favour of a hashtag.

Bah, humbug! I’m off to spike the eggnog.

Disclaimer: The writer wishes to advise that no GHB or Rohypnol were used in the spiking of said eggnog.

Your festive feedback is always welcome: investik8@gmail.com

 ??  ??
 ??  ??
 ??  ?? Frank Loesser — pictured with his wife and musical partner Lynn Garland in 1956 — wrote the Oscar-winning song Baby, It’s Cold Outside in a moreinnoce­nt age.
Frank Loesser — pictured with his wife and musical partner Lynn Garland in 1956 — wrote the Oscar-winning song Baby, It’s Cold Outside in a moreinnoce­nt age.
 ??  ??

Newspapers in English

Newspapers from New Zealand