Two Wise Men
- A Christmas Pantomime

Published in: Windmills 10 (December 2012)

Page: 7.

Editors: Claire Duffy, Jo Langdon & Alyson Miller

Internal Illustration: Sarah Allen

Publisher: Deakin University, Victoria, Australia

ISSN:  1837-1205


In which the author and his brother discuss Christmas trees, Christmas beetles and the latest in Christmas jewellery.

Stimulus Response:

I'm actually quite fond of Christmas in a nostalgic, atheistic fashion (in much the same way that I find Waltzing Matilda to be rousingly Australian without personally aspiring to convict status or identifying as a jumbuck-pilfering ne'er-do-well), and I'm comfortable with the rampant, often tacky commercialisation and the Coke-propagated images of jolly, red-suited Santa. In the end it's something of a pretext, and to me the origins of Christmas seem of far less importance than what has sprung up as a result; that is, the wonderfully lethargic family gathering wherein people count down to what often seems the hottest day of the year and then swelter together, enjoying one another's company sans what we might call the traditional traditions. What I do object to, of course, is the trend towards earlier and earlier festooning of our shopping centres. Christmas in December? No problems. (Or July, why not?) Perhaps a bit of spill-over into November. But October?! September?? When I see the decorations come out on the first day of Spring, it does rather set my teeth on edge. Suddenly, there's an urge - an infusion of Grinch, perhaps - to line up the nearest Christmas tree and crash tackle it. Imagine: a splendiferous explosion of fake foliage and tinsel; baubles flying everywhere. Never in December, mind, but if they're going to keep taunting me... In modern parlance, sometimes the phrase 'lock and load' is used to signify agreement or acceptance. Nowadays, whenever I hear it, the first image that springs to mind is that of bazookas concealed in Christmas trees being hefted to shoulder height and used to bring some of that shopping centre kitsch crashing down.


  - random selection from the unpublished memoire, Freefall