Today we shall feast and drink and watch football and give thanks to the Machine for prompt dispatch and delivery of hecatombs of slaughtered fowl. Tomorrow, we must put our shoulders to the wheel and shop, shop till it hurts, shop till it delivers us from evil, shop for the good of those who otherwise could not afford to shop if not for the brief, temp-gigs that trickle down from Santa’s workshop in celebration of…of….the sacred something or other…and of course, time off work….
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