this whole "lighting of the
macy's great tree on top of
yuppiepalooza-lite lenox mall" has always struck a southern grotesque-nouveau chord in me, something flannery would have written about if she was marisha pessl's age this year.
and watching monica
kauffman whateverhernewlastnameis stumble over the name of a third day album, and then hearing their local-affiliated contempo-creed thuuurmmhurrrgghh-ing through an xmas song which sounds amazingly like a james blunt tune re-written to say "christ" a lot and not mean it as an expletive , as the thronging, hungry, huddled masses (screaming "me, me, me") wait for a fucking red light to come on inside a giant tree perched atop a shopping center to signal the start of spendathon06....
god, if it was possible for something to be MORE non-offensive, especially to the southern focus on the
moneyfamily set, i think it would be wrapped in marshmallow-scented rabbits and pink fluffy unicorns.
and it would then involve youknowwho. he who must not be named on the high holy days:
what did this guy do today?
also, why does no one ever invite leonard cohen to their holiday parties? he has a lot to say about jesus.
maybe they are afraid he'd bring his good buddy nick the stripper. who knows?
