Oftentimes I'll hang up my top-hat and sit back in front of the fireplace with a glass of Hennessy's X.O cognac as I polish my monocle. I have on occasion whiled away many hours in this fashion musing on priorities. Not just mine, but people's priorities in the big-picture sense. And as most people who know me understand, it's subjects like this I don't mind reflecting on vocally and at great length.

I'll try to keep this part of the rant from becoming too holier-than-thou because it's something I could really get carried away with, but it seems our priorities are too heavily aligned with our passionate consumerism (why do I pick on you so?). The same mechanism that leads us to believe that a person who doesn't work for half of their waking life has less intrinsic worth than someone who does also engenders the idea that the affection we feel for each other is most properly expressed through the purchasing and administering of consumer items.

Coles/Myer tell me What My Family Will Love For Christmas and Hallmark tells me How To Say What I Feel. How lucky to be living in a world where things are made so easy! By following these simple formulae how can I not be happy?

Every year I worry that my cynical attitude will cast a pall over this most holy of Christian holidays. It's exceedingly difficult to churn up a great deal of cheer when you can walk into David Jones in the middle of October to the slightly disturbing specter of a mechanical Santa Clause (with one malfunctioning eyelid stuck half open) gyrating his hips to the tinny carols playing over the store stereo system. Forgive me for groaning as I'm reminded of what we let TV commercials convince us we need.

So I'd like to clarify here: I'm not anti-Christmas. On the contrary, I spend half the year looking forward to the coming Christmas - spending time with my family and friends, eating lots of ham and potato salad and taking heaps of time off work in the middle of summer. I just really hate everything about shopping centres. Shops, and the companies that own them, seem to radiate a smug sense of self-importance. We are dependant on them and they take full advantage, at no time more so than Christmas. Sometimes it seems as though Christmas is more about them than us.

Every year I suggest to my family that we communicate our affection in some other way, and I think they agree. My personal favourite would be to cook for each other, because I love food. I'm sure each person can find some personalised idea. The fault is my own that I never follow through on this plan - as anyone who knows me will attest, I am not a planner.

So once again I'll trudge down to the shops, pockets jingling all the way, to fight the crowds of desperate consumers clambering to purchase items that adequately express their deep fondness for one another. My eyes will dry out as I wait for hours in air-conditioned comfort in the checkout queues under the scrutiny of little buzzing security cameras. I'll listen merrily to the stores' 5 public-domain Christmas carols album repeating ad-nauseum. I'll accept the fact that everything I'm buying will be heavily discounted in a months time.

I'll do all these things because I enjoy having a special time of year when I get together with my family and friends, and I want this time of year to be as different as possible from the rest of the year. I want to be reminded of other Christmases. And for the moment Coles/Myer offer me the path of least resistance. One day this will change though.

Edit: I altered the date on this post because I don't want the Firefox entry at the top of my page. Although I like the product, I just don't like my rant.