the Sweet Smell of Burning Fur (plonq) wrote,
the Sweet Smell of Burning Fur

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atara and I tend to alternate our AM listening between two stations. CJOB is a typical right-wing talk radio station, but their local programming tends to be much less politically biased, and is often fairly engaging. CBC has much better national programming, but their local shows are brutal (huzzah! It's another profile on a local hiphop artist/writer who has no other exposure, and will fade back into obscurity the moment this show ends today).

Normally we keep CJOB on in the mornings because they have much better weather and traffic reports than CBC, but their Christmas schmaltz is killing us. The worst is their segment on how It Feels Like Christmas. They play the sickly jingle for the segment, follow that with an ad, then bring on Gipp Forster who tells a horribly sappy Christmas story in a gentle, grandfatherly voice. Finally they play another ad and finish with the jingle again to let you know that the horror is done.

Here is a rough transcript of a recent Christmas vignette told by Gipp.

As Christmas approached, little Johnny closed his eyes tight and prayed to Jesus.

"Dear Jesus, I know that your bed of straw must have been much less comfortable than my hospital bed, so I can't really complain. The doctors say that I won't get any better, but that's okay because I know that soon I'll be playing with you, and I'm looking forward to that. My parents are very sad though. Every time the doctors give them an update on my condition, they begin to cry. All I want for Christmas is for my parents to be happy again. I miss seeing them smile and laugh. Please make them happy again so that I can see them smile one more time.

See you soon,

Actually I'm pretty sure I left some out of it there because I think I missed a bit of the narration over the screams of anguished souls, and my brain's own rebellious demands that I slash my wrists or stab out my eardrums with a pencil to make it stop. They don't get any better than that. There was the one about the starving, freezing homeless guy who begs for change, and then goes into a church on Christmas Eve and donates everything he has collected to the fund for the poor.

In general, when I force myself to try and remember these vignettes, the running theme seems to be that life is awful, and things will only get worse, but somehow there is something spiritual and uplifting amidst all the squalor, misery and decay.

Actually the clip was much more bearable when I imagined the kid delivering his lines like Cancer Boy from Kids In The Hall.

In other news, I bought a diffuser for my camera flash today. What I want is an external flash, but a diffuser is a couple of hundred dollars cheaper and it is a decent compromise.

Belladonna takes over my computer desk.

Merry contemplates on the Rice Krispie squares.

In both cases I did only a modest amount of photo editing. I fixed the mild red-eye due to them looking directly into the flash, tweaked the saturation and applied an unsharp mask to bring out the details a bit.
Tags: schmaltz
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