Jaja Toff Writes ...: An Open Letter RE: Christmas

My Story

Writer wrote. But what was the point of that, thought Writer bluntly. What was the point of Writer writing when Reader never read what Writer wrote? Unread Writer is worth nothing. Unread Writer is of no value to nobody - not even himself.

Writer sighed.

If Publisher had only published..... but Publisher had not. But if he had, then Publisher might have said to Reader "Reader meet Writer and Writer meet Reader". And then Reader would read what Writer wrote. But Publisher never published.

In fact, even Publisher never read Writer. Publisher never read what Writer wrote and Reviewer never read what Publisher published, and Reader never read what Reviewer reviewed. Reader never read what Writer wrote.

So that was that. Writer died and only Dreamer remained.

Dreamer sighed.

Dreamer looked at where a pile of rejection letters would sit if Publisher had at least read what writer wrote. Dreamer awoke from his dream. The dream was over and had ended much the same as all his other dreams. Dreamer stopped being Dreamer and went back to normal. To being Loser.

Loser thought he might try something else. Hang gliding perhaps.

Tuesday, December 9, 2008

An Open Letter RE: Christmas

I am utterly sick of Christmas - totally, and absolutely sick of it. I quite think I might literally explode if I hear just one more person say “Merry Christmas”. Merry Christmas - bah!

It’s not the religious side of things - that’s ok with me. I’m not what you’d call a Christian, but each to their own. No, I don’t mind the carols, or even the hypocrisy of the once-a-year church-goers. Once a year is better than never I guess.

I don’t mind the other side of it either - the economy of the throwaway society - the rustle of paper on Christmas morning, the twinkle of tinsel, the coloured glow of fairy lights. It’s just harmless fun.

No, my problem with Christmas is the food. In this so-called time of goodwill and kindness, ordinary people transform into gluttons. They eat and eat and then they eat even more. That’s bad enough but what really gets me is just what they eat. Goodwill they say yet they sit down and eat your brother, or your sister - licking their lips and salivating. They eat my family and dribble the juice of their being down their chins while they laugh and spread good cheer! And then - and then they eat you. Good will? Not from my perspective. A time of gratuitous over-indulgence at the expense of others - at the expense of us. Merry Christmas? Bah!

I am praying - very hard - to whatever Gods might hear and pay heed to a lowly victim like me.

Great God of the consumed,
Save me and my family from these uncaring consumers.
We are the victims of joy, the sufferers of human joy.
Please, great God, save us.

With great respect and love,
The Christmas Pudding.