an icepick through the keyhole

...I'll just say Happy Hogswatch To All, And To All A Good Night.

May your stockings be full, your night filled with laughter, and your cups overflowing.

My favourite Christmas poem, which I try to post every year. It combines a fair bit of my feelings on the holiday: the contempt for commercialism, the sense of childlike wonder at the season, and the fear that organised religion seems to want to cultivate in the faithful.

( The Cultivation of Christmas Trees, by T.S. Eliot. )