Yule Love This

December 14, 2010

A Christmas Gift from 3 Wise Guys from Eric Neuschwanger on Vimeo.

A little holiday humbug from my darling friend Eric Neuschwanger. If you were giggling incessantly at his cartoon like I did, check back later for more. This is the first in his kooky new series.

And for god’s sake, check out his homepage already! Art, son. Art.


Singing Bras

December 13, 2010

Wow. I’m so not sure how I feel about this. I mean, on the one hand, there is the total and creepily complete objectification of women smacking you in the face here like an enormous, over-eager erection. These women are nothing more here than their musical notes. …which are actually determined by their cup sizes. I mean, the only voice they’re given is the note they sing, which means their only means of expression is nothing more than their cup size. Wowww.

A collection of immobilized women only distinguishable by their cup sizes, who are only here to please you with the pretty sounds they make. Then they rub the tuning fork on the skin, or else they get the hose again. Ya know? Because what sort of person would have such a collection, if you were to take this thought out of its cute little Christmas wrapping and flesh it out a bit. And all of them laying on beds in the darkness making porn faces like that, seemingly oblivious to one another. Does anyone else feel like some creepfest decided to make human ornaments here? Or ordered Real Girls that emit recorded noises to deck the halls with them? Just me? Jingle belles? Ho ho hos? Mary Christmases? The marketing for real girl ornaments practically writes itself.

This is decidedly not okay.

Additionally, you notice how they only show the fuller-figured girls (and oh my god, do I use that term lightly here. The E, F, and G girls are still skinny enough to…well, be in a bra commercial this day and age) are only shown laying down, so you don’t see the enormity of their monstrous 5 pounds of extra bod within the context of gravity. God forbid something other than their breasts isn’t actually inverted.

Yeah. That pissed me off.

But, on the other hand.

As a fan of burlesque and a bi enthusiast of the lady bits, I happen to not mind the idea of girls in lacy underwear, and… it’s so preeeetty. I’m torn. The feminist in me is raising a fist in solidarity with my sisters. And the other part of me wants to know how to arrange this sort of party this Christmastime.

Wrong? Probably?


I’m not entirely sure what it is about Christmastime that brings out the morbid and horrible, but it never fails to splash about all over our radios every year. Macabre stories under thinly veiled, seemingly cheerful lyrics, and underlined by an eerily jolly melody. Is anyone else appalled by the tragic nature of our festive December tuneage? Or perhaps not entirely surprised by it, for the more cynical?

Baby It’s Cold Outside– Now, I’m not the first to classify this as a date rape song—not by far. But it certainly bears noting. I should also point out that the Ray Charles version of this is one of my favorite Christmas ditties  because I grew up with it (aside from the weird parts where he’s telling her how nice her eyes or hair look. How would Ray know? Clearly he’s been tipped off somehow, which makes me think it’s all so pre-meditated.) She certainly is struggling with this man, and even disturbingly asks, “Say, what’s in this drink?” at some point.  And most date-rape happens between people who know one another. Yeah. She’s toast. Horrible.

‘Zat You, Santa Claus– The unmistakable ramblings of a paranoid schizophrenic who can’t shake the idea that Santa is constantly watching him. Sound like a horror film? You bet.

All I Want for Christmas is My Two Front Teeth– Child abuse. This poor boy only wants his front teeth back, and he kinda wishes he hadn’t written asking Santa for another daddy at this point…

I Want a Hippopotamus For Christmas– Blatant greed. You want a golden goose, too, Veruca?

Blue Christmas- Erectile dysfunction.

I Saw Mommy Kissing Santa Claus– Adultery.

Grandma Got Ran Over By a Reindeer– Need I say more? Alcoholism, a deadly road accident. The heartbreak, and the humanity.

Do You Hear What I Hear- Deafness, blindness, and someone who feels completely comfortable lying to the deaf and blind. Monstrous behavior.

Frosty the Snowman– Complete disregard for the law, and rogue troublemaking. Not as disturbing as some of the other songs, but misdemeanors are crimes too, for crying out loud.

Do They Know It’s Christmas– This song is about poverty, which is sad enough; but moreover, the song is really about a Christian tradition of religious intolerance. Hey folks, they can’t know it’s Christmas if they’re not Christians. Or rather, they can know it, but it’s irrelevant. Terrible. Preach your cult elsewhere, Bono! Release your smothering grip on international politics, David Bowie! That’s right, I’m talking to you, George Michael. I’m talking to you.

Chestnuts Roasting On An Open Fire– Jack Frost nipping at your nose? Nasal frostbite.

Santa Baby– Avarice, materialism, complete lack of formality when talking to a saint.

Let It Snow– Blizzard. All they have is popcorn before they die of starvation. Christ, if you live in a northern climate, can you not be more prepared? I ask you.

All I Want For Christmas Is You– The lingering threat of kidnapping right before the holidays.

Last Christmas­– is, musically, really its own tragedy. Wham, quit beating us. We’ll be good. We promise!

Up On the Housetop– Property damage.

Rudolph the Red-Nosed Reindeer­- The misery of Rosacea.

The Holly and the Ivy– Rash.

Silver Bells– Rampant commercialism.

We Wish You a Merry Christmas– Gluttony and lack of manners.

12 Days of Christmas– The inability to satisfy one’s partner.

White Christmas– Racism!

It’s amazing that, through all this, we can still find the will to have ourselves a merry little whatever it is we celebrate. That being said, I hope you all can ignore the repulsive tales of yuletide gruesomeness simply blasting through your headphones this year and focus on the true message of the holidays. Love each other. And use protection. Now pass the egg nog.


The Holiday Spirit