Dear Aunt Sally,
I thought it would be different this year. I thought I would have free will. I thought I would have the strength to resist, but it’s too powerful. No matter what I do it keeps coming back. In this brief moment of clarity I write to you with urgency with the hope that you will be able to help me find peace once more. I don’t have much time before it comes back, so I must write with haste.
Every year it starts on November 1st. The indiscriminate wave of red, white, and green rolls though every city, every town, every home. It overtakes every man, woman, and child, leaving in its wake a trail of dead trees, inflatable reindeer, cookies, ornaments, fairy lights, and holiday cheer. Above it all, permeating the air, hiding around every corner and behind every door, are the unmistakable jingle-janglings of Santa’s sleigh bells. The lying chimes of childhood disappointment echoed in every Christmas mash-up and poorly masked attempt at re-branding. Mariah Carey why have you forsaken me?
I can’t get them out of my head. The Christmas songs are never ending. I’ve resorted to listening to “Baby” (by Justin Beiber) to get momentary relief. I am in constant torment by either the cloyingly sweet and violently catchy slew of anthems advertising Christmas desperation or the prepubescent voice of a child-star turned mewling mass of existential impotence. The shaking has become more powerful. I really don’t know what to do anymore, I can’t think straight and all that’s running through my mind is the never faltering Jingle bells, jingle bells, oh my unspecified-praiseworthy-figure jingle all the way, oh what fun it is to ride it’s coming back in a one horse open sleigh. If this isn’t “Jingle Bell Rock” bottom then I don’t know what is.
You’re the only one I can turn to,
Few people are aware of why Christmas Mania seems to overtake the general population every year. Most attribute it to general happiness and excitement about a season that is supposedly all about giving. They couldn’t be more wrong. Every year, as soon as the clock strikes midnight and it becomes November 1st, high frequency sounds are projected around the world, urging everyone to shop until they literally drop.
This program started in the 1940s, when corporations wished to turn the holiday season into the shopping season. They enlisted the help of Ruid O. So, an expert in the field of subliminal messaging, who later went into the music industry and hid secrets from aliens and the devil in records. In an unparalleled feat or corporate cooperation, the largest companies in the world banded together and built over one million ten-foot-tall speakers. These speakers were scattered all over the world and every year they’re turned on to turn on our shopping instincts.
Ironically, getting Christmas songs stuck in our heads is just a side effect of the shopping frequency, with those of lower intelligence being more susceptible to it than those of us with higher intelligence. The only way to combat this is to create a five layer, lead enforced, tinfoil hat. Make sure the hat covers almost the entirety of your head. Essentially, make a tinfoil ski mask. (Protip: for added holiday flair use red foil, hang mistletoe, or wear a Santa hat over it to really get into the Christmas spirit!). This tinfoil ski mask should block the worst of it, with only songs recorded before 1960 really being able to get through.
If that doesn’t work just listen to all eight Nickleback albums and all songs produced by that guy who produced Rebecca Black’s “Friday,” then pray that the holiday season ends soon or that you’ll be put out of your misery, whichever will happen first.
Good night and good luck,