Humbug

doi:10.1136/bmj.323.7327.1466

BMJ 2001;323:1466 ( 22-29 December )

Filler

Humbug

The first 150 words of the full text of this article appear below.

I love Christmas. I love the carols, the companionship, the coldness, the friends coming home, the hot whiskeys and iced beers,the innocence, the magic, in the distance the horns of elflandfaintly blowing

But I love it too much. Like the smell of coffee or the prospect of making love to a beautiful woman, it can never live upto expectations, and you always need a smoke afterwards, maybea cup ofcoffee.

Instead of my beautiful fantasy, what we have is a tawdry commercial extravaganza, trinkets in the shops from October on,PA systems in shopping centres relentlessly churning out "MerryXmasEverybody."

It's all bollocks. All those little Nativity scenes on Christmas cards, Mary surprisingly fashionable in a deep blue gown,a rather elderly Joseph seemingly resigned if a bit depressed,the lighting soft and cosy as if there is a neat little campfiresomewhere, the straw . . . [Full text of this article]