Tidings of Comfort and Joy

I've been the recipient of some nice cards and gifts from people I've never met this season. Among them, I got a card from the man with three "M's" in his name, M. M. McDermott of The Renegade Agency Confessional. Thanks, MMM. Kind of you.

From Atlanta came a package yesterday from "Aunt Mary," the deceased and eccentric relative of Fred Leo, better known as Every Sandwich, a guy I have much in common with and with whom I have collaborated on some fun stuff. Fred continues his aunt's tradition of sending weird and somewhat depressing gifts to friends and relatives. (Click "Aunt Mary" above for the full story.)

I got a bootlegged copy of "Century of the Self," the documentary by Adam Curtis, the first five minutes of which will confirm your long suppressed fear that if you are employed in marketing or advertising, you work for Satan. It also explores the relationship between advertising and politics and confirms that we are a stupid people, easily swayed by meaningless messaging. I'm looking forward to the remaining three hours of this career-affirming festival of joy.

Aunt Mary also sent this fine can, which I will keep in a safe place, to be consumed for a future Christmas dinner in a post-apocalyptic, desolate landscape of starvation and chaos, where the roving bands of marauding, radioactive zombies seek people to rape and dismember; where the streets run red with the blood of the saints and any glimmer of hope is lost; where carols around Christmas trees are but bitter memories of our lives wasted in the pursuit of things we didn't need.