…not just for Christmas. Right? Right.
So, it is two weeks to Christmas and you are bored of work. In a short time you have to spend enforced periods with your nearest and dearest convincing them that you have more to offer than tales of a boring job and an embryonic drinking problem. With that in mind, let ten minutes hate help by offering a slew of great writing and opinion pieces that you can shamelessly pass off as your own over the turkey this festive season.
So you got very angry about the Daily Mail, Jan Moir thing. You emailed everyone you knew to tell them to do something and then, like most sensible people, you moved on. Unlike the writer of the Enemies of Reason, who instead dives headfirst each day into the immense ocean of shit that is the Mail and the Express and their comment pages, to provide superlative source material for the winding up of Daily Hate-reading relatives, like this post.
Then there is markwoff, navel-gazing in the warm surroundings of The Mortal Bath and pondering if responsibility for climate change can, after all, be pinned on ocelots.
Hop out of the bath and head to The Flying Rodent for gems such as this on why right wing-nuttery is a good thing:
Veiled nastiness is devilishly difficult to combat, but open idiocy and naked meanness defeat themselves. The Labour Party have proved that one single-handedly.
On the day I write something so good on here, I will probably close down the site and have it immortalised in bronze for future generations. Unlikely though.
If all this political commentary is sitting on your tummy like a million over-cooked sprouts, you should check out Neil’s songs of the year at The Bleeding Heart Show. Alternatively, if you long for more politics like you long for extra helpings of Christmas pud, check out his explanation of the-enemy-of-my-enemy-is-my-friend culture of UK political blogging and be astounded.
Or you could try to demonstrate that you have been surviving in the big city on more than Pret sandwiches and late night kebab shop forays by memorising some of DeboraJane‘s recipies and hitting the kitchen when everyone has had enough of turkey. Only you might want to tell your mum that this one is called something else…
Finally, for commentary on Tiger Wood’s dalliences which doesn’t fall into the temptation of referring to the women involved as ‘birdies’, read Alex Song’s Cultured Right Foot. Sport journalism so insightful, you could almost forgive him for being a Gunner. I said almost.
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