There's No Hip In Christmas

I often feel alienated by Christmas, what with its enforced revelry. So when I find something to celebrate, I feel I should pass it on.

Here's something to love about Christmas: the way it flattens out the cultural hierarchy, allowing lowbrow content to reach classic status.

Probably the best example is the Rudolph TV special. It's a stop-action-program that takes am existing story and slaps on a backstory with all the gravitas of a Saturday morning cartoon. In any other context it would be forgotten, save for a brief moment thirty years after its debut when it would receive a brief ironic revival. But because it's about Christmas, it's achieved cultural touchstone status. Even the original Rudolph story itself is a colouring book turned novelty song.

Where else would we find a long-term life for A Christmas Story, Boney M's Mary's Boy Child, both Trans-Siberian Orchestra and Manheim Steamroller?  Or there's the "Yes Virginia, there is a Santa Claus" story; what other letter-to-the-editor has such respect?  Even Santa himself was shaped by early Coca-Cola posters.  And how did Boris Karloff, known for playing Frankenstein, achieve immortality?  By narrating a Christmas special.  And there's the Bing Crosby/David Bowie Little Drummer Boy duet.  What other cultural force would even get them into the same room, never mind working together?

So let's all have a Merry, Culturally-Inclusive, Christmas, and put our snobbery aside until Boxing Day.