And so it begins. The Christmas music has started playing on the radio. Despite being a child of the age of mindless consumerism, even I am mightily sick of the holiday jingles by now. I’m not alone in this. Just the other night, someone sitting in front of me on the shuttle to Chilliwack begged for the radio station to be changed. He just couldn’t bear one more saccharine note of the stuff. He apparently works in retail, the poor man.
Speaking of retail, that wasn’t nearly as horrifying as what I heard on a different shuttle earlier that week. I am speaking of a certain McDonald’s radio commercial. If you’ve heard it before, you will know of what I speak, and if so, you have my heartfelt condolences. If you haven’t heard it, then I pray you never do. It uses the most grossly inappropriate bastardization of “The Twelve Days of Christmas” that I have ever heard. Listening to that travesty made me furious. I hope I never hear it again, because if I do, I will spontaneously combust from the pure apocalyptic rage that will fill every fibre of my being.
And it’s still only November.
