Songs, wrongs and Horse Chestnut trees....

Now the Beard, as some of you may or may not be aware, possibly even at the same time for those of you enamoured by the ideas of Ingsoc, is surprisingly or not a fan of Christmas... not necessarily for the reasons for which one is supposed to be a fan, but for sinister and cynical reasons possibly better explored than analysed...

For a start, the Beard is a great fan of hypocrisy... so much so that I practice it as often as possible, and one day hope to become as good at it as most of my fellow humans... for as we must all admit, hypocrisy is possibly the natural state of our species, the great Homo Narrans... in fact, our favoured species name, Homo Sapiens sapiens is in itself a form of hypocrisy... but I digress...

The fact is that Christmas is possibly the best time to study hypocrisy, both in others and in oneself... The fact that the festival is a commercial exercise masquerading as a religious celebration is good enough for the Beard.. but then Christmas exceeeds all expectations and reveals itself to be a commercial exercise masquerading as a Christian celebration that is itself a festival stolen from another religion and thinly disguised in the hope that their omniscient God somehow won't notice... Christmas, by promoting greed and the decoration of trees actually transgresses so many of Jehovah/Yahweh's laws as to be untrue... and it's true about the decorating trees bit... honest, guv.. it's in the Bible, in Isaiah if I remember correctly... but I digress...

Apart from the hypicrisy, which admittedly is fun, the Beard loves Christmas for one more thing... the music... now, most of you out there either love the tacky disposable music or loath it... however, to the Beard Christmas music highlights one of his pet dislikes... people claiming to like songs without actually understanding the lyrics.. take for instance that now perennial favourite "Fairytale of New York..." many people claim this to be their favourite Christmas song, which I have no problem with... but then a lot of them then carry on and say that this song about the decay of an already dysfunctional relationship filled with hate and resentment in a police cell among drunks is, somehow, the song which somehow embodies the perfect Christmas.... which it possibly may, who knows.. however, the Beard suspects that, as with Alan partridge and Sunday Bloody Sunday,, that most folks have heard the title, the (admittedly quite jolly) tune, and have concluded that this is a song of joy...

Greg Lake also gets a lot of airplay... his epic I believe in Father Christmas is again one of those songs that on the surface seems to be in praise of Christmas... that opening... "They said there'd be snow at Christmas; they said there'd be peace on Earth..." But then comes the disappointment, in the third line that no one seems to have heard.. "Instead it just kept on raining..." Yes, that's right... asong about how the wonderful Christmas is a cop-out, a meaningless hypocritical load of old drivel... "The Christmas we get we deserve," apparently....

And it's not just Christmas songs either... The Beard had the strange experience once of picking up a cd apparently containing the best love songs in the world... itself a strange enough experience... and to be honest, some of the tracks on there definitely deserved to be there.... the one by Barry White in particular... but also included were some strange ones... "A whiter shade of pale," for example, and "Hotel California..." "24 Hours from Tulsa" can possibly be forgiven, as it is a man telling his partner that he's now in love with someone else and is dumping her.... but "Where the wild roses grow" by Nick Cave and Kylie Minogue??? A song about rape and violent murder??? One of the best love songs ever??? Methinks someone should be looking at the private life of the compiler of this cd....

But it grows late, and as Christmas is supposed to be a time of inspiration and hope, the Beard will leave you with a story from his past...

Years ago, when the Beard seemed not so left of centre as he now apparently does, this hirsute personage was less hirsute, and studied hard t a college in the East Midlands... The principal of this college (as opposed to the principle...) was a man seen only on the first day of each school year, when he would regail the new 14 year old starters with a tale of his own schooldays.... it would seem that on this man's first day at a certain educational establishment, he had the luck and joy to be selected to play cricket.. which to some would seem a bonus, to others not so much... At one end of the pitch was a rather tall horse chestnut tree... and our one-day-to-be-principal dreamed of being able to hit the ball over said plant... for five years he tried, and tried, and tried, but never succeeded... ever.... Now, apparently the moral of this story is supposed to be, no matter how difficult the task, no matter what lack of success, don't stop trying your hardest... the pursuit of the dream is more important than the attaining... unfortunately, what the Beard and his fellows took to be the pont was this... no matter how hard you try, you'll never achieve your dreams... so why bother trying... ambiguity is a wonderful thing....

So, in the hope that you are inspired one way or the other by that small second hand anecdote, the Beard will wish you all a goodnight... and until there is peace on Earth and Goodwill to all, amd until all our Christamses be merry and bright, Wisebeard salutes you!!!!!!!