Comment o’ the Week: Last/First of the Year!

It’s the first posted of the year, but the actual comment was made last year, so that makes this…oh whatever. It’s Comment o’ the Week!

Oh, but before I get to it, I want to mention a few things you might enjoy.

First, a few weeks ago I was really happy to hear Iszi and Simon read an email from me on their excellent podcast Sundays Supplement. (I think it was ep. 29? But whatever, you should listen to them all because they’re very funny.) Sorry I’m just getting around to mentioning it now!

Second, the other night Reed Braden conducted a short interview with me for his New Year’s episode of Two Smokin’ Hot Freethinkers podcast. That episode is here (there’s a clean version elsewhere on their site) and also includes clips from Phil Plait and PZ Myers. I was very, very exhausted at the time of recording so my apologies if I am unintelligble.

Okay, on to the COTW! Christmas is long gone, but the spirit lives on in this hilarious rant by Phlebas, who really, really hates the song The 12 Days of Christmas:

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phlebas // Dec 26, 2008 at 3:49 pm

Every single line of “The 12 Days of Christmas” just gets worse and worse. After I was given an unsolicited partridge (regardless of the kind of tree), that twisted frakker wouldn’t get near me with the turtle doves.

Seriously. Was this written for someone who wanted to own an aviary and couldn’t get the stock? Out of that first week of Christmas, I have 28 birds and five rings. I’m not that much into the bling myself, but it would be a welcome change from all the bird shit.

After the first week, things perk up and “my true love” starts bringing me women. Seventeen girls in two days — I hope roasted calling bird has some potent protein. But this isn’t the 14th century — just because they are dragged to my front door doesn’t mean I can unilaterally command a fortnight of debauchery. If I tried anything, I’m quite sure those women (nine of whom are athletes, the others are working farm girls) could beat me to death.

Do the maids a-milking bring their own cows? If so, that will at least make me forget about the bird shit, but I can’t really call it “for the win.”

Then I get 10 leaping lords? That sounds like something Robin would shout to Batman in a moment of surprise. Fuck that. If they have so much energy, they can shovel cow shit.

(When they say “lords” do they mean some sort of aristocracy, or 10 guys dressed as Jesus? Both are distressing, but the Jesuses add a touch of surrealism I’d quite enjoy, especially if they are leaping among the cow flops like they are auditioning for The Nutcracker.)

Then the fife and drum corps show up the last two days. I’m afraid that would be that. You would all see me being pushed into a police car with a jacket ineffectively covering my face.

Two unbearable weeks that will turn me vegetarian, asexual, violent, and totally against Christmas.

Also: I really hate that “I Want a Hippopotamus for Christmas” song too.

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Congratulations, Phlebas, you win the best version of the 12 Days of Christmas ever recorded: John Denver and the Muppets! I’m not even being ironic here, I absolutely love this and always – ALWAYS – laugh at Fozzie screwing things up. Maybe Fozzie’s adorable antics will make you love it, too.

YouTube link