The King’s first Christmas broadcast was in 1932. And because King Nicky has such a nice ring to it, I thought fuck it, why not make 2021 mine?
Dear, Commoners 😬 (Just kidding!)
Where to start? What a year 2021 has turned out to be! One beautiful outcome of this pandemic is that while we mightn’t necessarily see it, it has united us all in grief. And, while some have indeed suffered more than others, I fail to think of an individual whose life hasn’t been seriously inconvenienced as a result.
While coronavirus has united us in grief, paradoxically, it appears to have divided us in hate, with a splitting right down the middle, similar to Moses parting the Sea (Exodus 14:21, for which you can read the scientific proof of here 😳). Opinions over coronavirus, vaccines, conspiracies and everything in between have resulted in quite the extravagant, not-so-little shit show.
I, for one, take comfort in knowing the reason for the great divide is our overwhelming need for certainty. The only difference is how one derives it. And therefore, I must conclude everyone is likely just doing their best to get through this cluster fuck of a pandemic.
Because it’s Christmas, family must now enter the mix to stir up the pot. Family time for many is great, but for many more, it, unfortunately, is not. Especially if you’re going to have to eat an entire turkey sitting opposite some annoying woke shit relentless in their campaign to have you agree with all they hold to be true while demonizing you if you don’t.
The best strategy to combat such an attack may be to try and meet them with compassion and remember their need for certainty and fear of the unknown is likely what’s driving their behaviour in the first place. If they persist, you can always politely ask them to shut the fuck up, and if they refuse, it’s probably best for your mental health not to engage and simply retire to the drawing-room to pour yourself a big fat glass of whiskey.
It might even be a good idea to ban all political and coronavirus-related conversations from the house this year because, frankly, I don’t think there’s a person out there that isn’t sick to death of it all.