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Christmas. The festival that we've been celebrating, more or less constantly, for the past 2011 years.
1. Consumerism
You will need:
- a shopping trolley
- a helpful assistant
- a spare couple of hours
The second-worst thing about consumerism in the Christmas season is that the so-called ‘Christmas’ shopping period actually begins in November. The worst thing is the way everyone points this out, and then does all their Christmas shopping in November anyway. Passé as it has now become to criticise the blatant consumer-focus of modern holiday time it’s as good a point as any to begin your new, ironic celebratory activities.
First, LOCATE a shopping centre close to you. WAIT until the busiest time of the year, and then enter the store with the largest shopping trolley you are physically able to manoeuvre. Find some young, idealistic casual worker and ATTACH yourself to them as you attempt to complete your Christmas shopping.
INSIST that they advise you on each and every item of decoration you are considering purchasing. Relentlessly DEMAND a personal guide and escort to each new department within the centre you move to. If possible, make very specific inquiries regarding each product you examine and stipulate that other team members are brought to you for cross examination. By the end of your shopping trip, you should ideally have acquired two or three employees, each of whom are becoming steadily more irritated with your persistent queries and stern demeanor. For extra employees, award yourself bonus points. Double it if any are management. Your trolley will be crammed as full of Christmas tack as is humanly possible. Again, extra points for each item you have persuaded the store workers into carrying for you. Possibly that novelty glowing Christmas tree was just a little too bulky to balance on top of the rest of your purchases. Maybe the matching reindeer statues are too fragile to be entrusted to your trolley. Having reached this point, decide to call it a day.
As the relieved employees begin to usher you towards the registers, pause. Watch the sinking looks of exhaustion and desperation in their eyes as you candidly inquire ‘Actually, do you have any Easter products out yet? That’s what I’m really after.’
Presumably one of the workers will at these point say something along the lines of ‘I’m sorry, sir/madame. We don’t have anything for Easter out at this time of year.’
This is, of course, if you’ve been going for a couple of hours. If it’s been over six hours and this employee has been with you every step of the way, it’s far more likely to be something like, ‘NO. No we don’t. Now are you going to come this way and BUY your items or are we just going to keep STANDING here examining the CHRISTMAS CARD DISPLAY?’
Whatever the nature of the response, the moment you receive your negative answer frown fiercely and cry ‘What kind of shop is this? December and no Easter supplies up yet? It’s just four months away!’ Leave your trolley in the middle of the aisle and stroll away from your disbelieving helpers, darkly muttering ‘And they expect my custom,’ under your breath as you walk away angrily. Just before you are out of sight, turn and yell ‘A very merry ironic Christmas to all!’ before running away.
While at first glance this may appear a little unfair to your blameless helpers who, after all, are not responsible for their employer’s policy regarding shameless Christmas consumerism, fear not. Rather than experiencing frustration or anger at the expense of your waste of their time, they will instead by so amused by your refreshingly witty antics you leave them laughing merrily in your wake.
2. Buying gifts
You will need:
- a lot of money
- yards of wrapping paper
- tyre-sized rolls of sellotape
Having ironically expressed your feelings for Christmas consumerism in the previous activity, it is now actually necessary to purchase gifts for your loved ones. However, you are not going to conform to Christmas season stereotypes by getting them things they WANT or NEED. No, what you are going to buy for your family is the IDEAL GIFT.
… by which I mean every single item you find that is labelled or described to you as the IDEAL GIFT. Not actual quality things they might enjoy, like, say, those new large-screen televisions or an MP3 player, as that would defeat the point of the exercise. All the more unusual IDEAL GIFTS you can find. After all, if they’re the perfect gift, that means perfect for EVERYONE. So about fifty gift cards, for a start, then power tools, deck chairs, the boxed set of every British and American comedy released over the past sixty years, novelty Christmas T-shirts, picture calendars, scarves, coats, raincoats, knitting catologues, mosaic kits, a complete set of colour encyclopaedias, glue, a new kitchen, and possibly even some homeless kittens I saw someone giving away in a cardboard box labelled ‘PURR-FECT CHRISTMAS GIFT!!!’. Which would surely not be false advertising.
Having acquired all these items, wrap them – possibly more than a one-person job, especially given the kitchen – and send them on their way. Let Grandma pour her delighted thanks out to you as she receives a complete set of power drills. Modestly accept the incontrollable pleasure of your father as you present him with a homeless stray kitten. Revel in the excitement of your young cousins as they unwrap the boxed set of some English comedy/drama set from the 1950’s – colour an optional bonus.
Of course, if your grandmother is a DIY fanatic, your father obsessed with adopting small, defenceless animals from the streets and your small cousin VERY into the British comedy scene it might be a good idea to switch the gifts. Also, your family is very unusual.
At any rate, hopefully the confusion spread by your liberal showering of IDEAL GIFTS upon everyone produces the appropriately confused response. As soon as each present is unwrapped, and the appropriately puzzled expression is appearing on each of your relatives’ faces, dramatically cry ‘A very merry ironic Christmas to all!’ and sprint from the room.
3. Sun God festival
You will need:
- an alarm clock
- yellow clothes
- attractive sun themed bling
- a musical instrument
The 25th December hasn’t always been the formerly Christian, now blatantly consumerist occasion we know and ironically comment upon today. Initially it was a pagan Sun God festival. The festivals were combined by one or other of the Roman emperors who was hoping to join the Christian and pagan members of his empire. Presumably the date is remarkable for its proximity to the date of the Summer Solstice.
Now, there is no reason this noble festival should be so frowned upon. Perhaps you, as an ironic Christmas protestor, know very little about pagan customs. This should not stop you.
At the crack of dawn on Christmas Day, set up a carpet on your front lawn. Dress yourself in bright yellow robes – an old-ish sheet should do, if that’s really all you can manage – with an attractive, sun-shaped headdress. Papier maché is always useful. Bedeck yourself in the manner of a Christmas tree with plenty of glittery decorations, and, if possible, acquire a triangle, tambourine, or some kind of hand-worked instrument. A recorder is not a viable option.
The moment the sun rises, begin to CHANT loudly with words of your own composition. ‘Hail, Almighty Sun!’ is always a good starter. Play your instrument and dance winningly in order to appropriately honour the Sun God on his/her special day.
Do not worry about disturbing your neighbours. They probably all have excitable five-year-olds who work them up at three a.m. anyway, and the ones who don’t will surely be too pleased by your ironic celebration of the spirit of Christmas to resent the early waking. As you dance, play and chant, to the delight of everyone else on your street, cry ‘A very merry ironic Christmas to all!’
4. Deception Santa
NB: Christmas Spoilers alert, people.
You will need:
- a member of your family with young, gullible children
- excellent climbing abilities OR a ladder
- a house, preferably not more than two storeys high, with a chimney
For young children, Christmas is a fun-filled adventure populated by amazing gifts, fantastic food and presided over by a jolly giant clad in red and white, right?
WRONG.
Christmas is a time in which older generations take advantage of the inexperience of others in order to tell them shameful, barefaced lies and selfishly manipulate their beliefs to further enjoy their own holiday experience. Marx knew it (who among us has not heard the noble name of ‘The Christmas Manifesto’?). Guavera knew it, even if he never explicitly said it or indeed gave any evidence that he knew it. However, it has been going on long enough.
I am not suggesting by this introduction that you should in any way feel obliged to disillusion your young, carefree relations as to the existence of a certain magical present-dispensing multi-centagenarian. That would be unnecessarily cruel and, besides, they are not the true targets of your ironically driven actions.
On Christmas Day, after the triumphant dawn ceremony for the honour of the Sun God, WAIT until you can find an opportunity in which all the adult members of your family, including the parents of the young children, are together in some secluded location. Subtly lead the conversation around to the topic of the erstwhile Father Christmas. Ideally one of the parents will say something like ‘Oh yes, it was adorable seeing them open their presents, isn’t it nice to see how they still believe in Santa at that age?’
THIS is your moment. Allow your lower lip to begin trembling slightly, and then slowly choke out ‘You mean – he isn’t real?’
Hopefully your family members will now be looking slightly uncomfortable. Now is the time to bring out the big guns. If you are capable of producing fake tears, do so. Otherwise simply put your head in your hands and run, wailing, from the house. Find a bush to hide in, and crouch there as your concerned family flood out to find out exactly what you were doing. Presumably they will soon head back inside, discussing your reaction in muted voices.
Now is your chance. Scale the walls of the house with your Spiderman-like gift of climbing. Either that, or use a ladder in a concealed location. Then proceed to sob loudly. VERY loudly.
Your family members will flock out and, unless you’ve tried too many of the other ironic Christmas activities on them already, look upset to see you in a position of mortal peril. Now is your time to shine.
Stand up and declare ‘If Santa Claus can’t do it, then I will have to do it myself. I will shortly throw myself down this chimney to be more like the great man. If only I hadn’t been lied to so frequently!’
Then sob a little more, for added effect.
Congratulations for your completion of this ironic comment on the harmful nature of the trivialised deception of children. You are now standing on a roof, your family staring horrifiedly up on you, crying and wailing dramatically and threatening to throw yourself down the chimney. I bet they feel foolish right now!
Finally, let yourself be talked down. As you gracefully descend the ladder, cry ‘A very merry ironic Christmas to all!’
And THAT is how to celebrate Christmas the ironic way.
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