Merry Christmas One and All...

I remember a time when I was young, bright-eyed and some would say naïve, when the Nokia 3210 was deemed to be technologically innovative, Pokemon cards were the talk of the playground and I still left cookies and water in the kitchen for Santa Claus and his reindeers, on tonight of all nights.

However, I am now 20 years old, and according to some, it is no longer acceptable that I should get as excited as I used to, nor keep the 3210 for when it becomes ‘retro’. Therefore, I would like to talk you, and my 10 year old self, through Christmas Day, knowing what little stuff I know now, as a somewhat cynical ‘adult’.

Dear 10-year old Stu,

I can now muse over Christmas Day; that time you used to adore and look forward to all year round vividly from the present opening to the television to the “oh… so tasty” food (yeah, I’m a fatty at heart – “hello cholesterol!”).

But just remember the true message of Christmas. Although unwrapping a Stretch Armstrong toy at 9 o’clock in the morning is super mega awesome, this time of year is all about spending precious time with your closest family and friends, seeing the delight on their faces as they open something they’ve always wanted, or try to fake an appropriate reaction to receiving yet more brightly coloured socks, but not just any brightly coloured socks, they’re from M&S – who says advertising doesn’t work?

Strikes took their toll on the birth of our Lord
(Source: Jesus Explained)

Furthermore, the inspirational story of Jesus Christ’s ancient parable about the state of the NHS is particularly poignant. Why were there no beds available for Mary and Joseph? Oh yes, it’s because the Conservative Party hate the Baby Jesus, allegedly.  

Moving on swiftly… in a typical day at University, my alarm clock does not start its working hours until gone eight, so imagine my surprise reminiscing on past Christmases, when I would rush downstairs to the tree at 6 am, waking up my parents in the process and pouring out the endless amazing gifts on to the living room floor.

These days though, I need my beauty sleep, and a lot of it, after a heavy night doing little other than watching pointless (but ultimately hilarious) YouTube videos, of skateboarding dogs and babies eating lemons. Rocking up in my Christmas sweater early in the afternoon is going to be swee-eet!

YUM! (Source: Jake Howlett Gallery)

Now, the food. Where do I start with the food? Pigs in blankets were sorely wasted on you, ten year old Stuart. If anybody can come up with a greater thing than a sausage – good start – wrapped in a layer of bacon – OH MY GOD! – then I want to hear it, and so do the folks at Dragon’s Den, I would imagine.

Deborah Meaden rarely splashes out on any invention these days. Thinking about it, you are still in 2001, please invent Dragon’s Den for me, so I can enjoy it’s inherent windfall tomorrow after Christmas has finished.

Television-wise, I am afraid to say that I am mostly looking forward to the Queen’s Speech. How times have changed. Although Doctor Who is amazing, and much better than WWE or Power Rangers could ever amount to, I have not watched this series, nor any of Downton Abbey (high five!) so Lizzie chatting about Wills and Kate will be the most stimulating 10 minutes of television in my house, unless I get Frozen Planet on DVD. God, penguins are amazing!

Anyway, on an end note, Santa Claus is definitely real. Terms and conditions may apply.  

Love Chips x

Rockin' Around the Christmas Tree

Source: Daily Mail

Grandma singing along to Cliff Richard’s Mistletoe and Wine. Kids enlightening the rest of us about a certain red-nosed reindeer. Dads belting out Chris Rea’s Driving Home for Christmas (no? Ah, just mine then). This can only mean one thing. It’s that time of the year again when the dusty Christmas CDs are brought down from the tallest shelves.

But has the scene changed? Are we simply harking back to a time before time? When a woman from Newcastle could still dream of going to America and finding a job as a talent show panellist or the Kaiser Chiefs were only predicting riots.

The worst bit of news I heard last week was surrounding exactly this subject. The cast of The Only Way is Essex are recording a Christmas single, one of the nation’s favourites, Last Christmas by Wham! I imagine that George Michael would be spinning in his car. Although it is for a good cause and there are some average vocal performances (no, really), some of the interest is stricken down by its sheer stupidity. The well rehearsed smouldering looks and talking over the track (for example, “I can’t wait to get my Christmas vajazzle” – PLEASE do not google this). If this single gets anywhere near the Top 10, I will physically eat my laptop. I fear the UK will regret unleashing these people on the World, if you give it even two years.

Moving on to the Pogues. Whom, in my opinion, have the best Christmas song by the least Christmassy band in existence. Although it signals the start of the season, I feel that it could be sung just as well by a drunk sitting outside the Off Licence. Furthermore, it has gained quite a reputation over the years as one of those songs, which it is cool to enjoy.

Source: Andres Otero/WENN

Justin Bieber. Alleged Canadian teen sensation. I recognise that as a 20 year old heterosexual male I am not the target audience for such a musical ‘talent’, but I still don't see the appeal of a remarkably stupid, fringey, high-pitched, alleged runaway father. As such, why did he feel the need to release a Christmas album, including such classics as All I Want for Christmas is You and Mistletoe. I do not know of any section of society that were screaming out for a new version of the Mariah Carey tune.

Source: aaanything.net

Finally, enter X Factor. No doubt Simon Cowell will push his lamb to the slaughter out to the public again this year. Amelia Lily, Little Mix and Marcus Collins are apparently through to the final next week, after which, they will regurgitate an average pop song or ruin a remarkable rock ballad (See Biffy Clyro). But what hasn’t been said about this year’s X Factor too much was its attempt to compromise a music charity. Originally, Little Mix were named Rhythmix but had to be renamed after the Syco’s couldn’t get its namesake to change. In order to raise money for the charity as well as backlash against the X Factor abattoir, Facebook groups are asking for people to purchase Nirvana’s Smells Like Teen Spirit instead. This is where my support is going for Christmas Number One.

Overall, if you don’t want a drunkard, or a group of reality TV stars, or a choice of two different manufactured pop stars, there’s only really one option. A drug-infused, depressed singer-songwriter from Seattle, Washington (or Michael Buble, you be the judge!)     

Love Chips x