Maxed Out 

All I want for Christmas is…

By G.D. Maxwell

Dear Santa:

Yo, ol’ jolly one. Sorry to add to your burdens of the season but if there’s one unshakable faith I cling to stubbornly, it’s that you always have room in your sack and enough elf power to churn out a few last minute presents.

I’ll understand if you can’t manage it this time. I know you must be overworked up there trying to meet the demands of the new wave of greed sweeping North America, the whole China coming of age thing and the multinationals doing exploratory drilling in your reindeer grazing patch. But like I said, I have faith.

Better start with an apology first though. I’d have gotten around to this earlier but I guess I’ve been a little distracted. Lotsa work – a condition I’m definitely not used to – and I guess I still feel a little depressed about the election in my former home and native land. But I’m getting used to living in whatever it is that comes after the Age of Reason and I’m certain if I just apply myself, put my trust in God, suspend any faith in science and rationality, spend like there’s no tomorrow and intolerantly impose my point of view on the rest of the world, well, I’ll fit right in. Go along to get along, eh Nick?

So let’s get right to the point. My personal Christmas list is small. I’d also like more snow, please. Since everyone else I know would like the same, I don’t feel too greedy or over-reaching asking. I know the whole myth of global warming has probably impacted you too but look at it this way, more snow for us means easier delivery for you. It’s a win-win, to use an oft-tortured phrase.

If at all possible, I’d like that snow to be followed by, well, more snow… or sunshine, or howling winds, or a plague of locusts. Anything but rain, which seems to be the norm these days. Not that I put any credence in those scientific Cassandras harping on about global warming. As all true believers know, we should welcome, embrace even, the evidence of environmental destruction as just another sure sign of the coming apocalypse. As Georgie says, if you don’t like global warming, buy an air conditioner. Oh redemption, where is thy sting?

Now I know this is going to sound a bit like I’m confusing you with the Wizard of Oz, Santa, but I’d really like you to tuck a brain, some courage and a heart into your sack. It’s for our municipal council and mayor. Well, maybe not all of them, but certainly the ones who shamelessly sold out to Bombardier a week or so ago. That story’s so funny, I’ve just got to share it with you.

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