Merry fucking Christmas from England, an island where it never stops raining, as midnight sweeps over the Atlantic ocean to swallow you all up in Christmas cheer and alcoholic stupor remember something as you pray before your Christian cross and the fallacy and fake that did not die upon it.

Whilst you stuff your face with morsels of succulent turkey or duck or beef or any other animal that a faceless corporation sliced up and served for you and serrated its consciousness, thousands of people made poor by the very companies you buy food from, that dance and prance upon the backs of the broken and the bruised are struggling to find a slice of bread to eat, struggling to even find a drop of water to quench their thirst whilst we sprinkle the stuff over our back gardens and dive into it in pools and flush it down our sewers.

Remember that it may be amoral to take a bite and smile, smile at all your wealth and luxury, but fuck it, we all fucking love our turkeys and our lives. We love our oil; we love our music that preaches rebellion but is conformity embodied in its faux individualism, that is an anti corporate message funded by corporations to sell T shirts and CDs as a testament to the manipulability of the masses, all praise our fake and plastic culture, the celebrity worship and the fact that we the western leaches are the most powerful civilization on the earth and the fact that our vast arsenal of nuclear weapons are all that are keeping the third world from rising up and taking the riches that we have ripped from their now barren lands and now keep for ourselves. We love the amoral capitalism that circulates through our veins, if we didn’t we wouldn’t be on a computer now, a computer that uses up in an hour more electricity and water and raw fuel then 5 villages in Africa could in a few months. Be happy. I'd rather be rich, intellectual and white then black, AIDS ridden and poor. That American grunts in the form of marines have died to preserve our ways of life, hedonistic life without consequences, praise them and take a drag of a cigarette, love those tobacco companies pissing on the hungry, we love them, suck it in boys we’re blessed, love it, why the fuck should we care, on a Soma holiday till we reach doomsday. Smooth unconscious morals should drip away.

I'll give a toast to the live Marines that stand afraid in the hot sun and the dried out corpses of their companions that now are strewn along the streets of cities they have never heard of in Iraq as I drive somewhere, oil burning in my internal combustion engine with a beer in hand smoking a cigar. Meat is good and African meat is cheap, why not enjoy it. Why not sell them down the river, oil and blood fuels my engine.

Merry Christmas Christian corpses, you allowed me to continue getting pissed off my ass for the next year and a few.

Merry Christmas heartless corporations you have fuelled my treasure seeking pleasure cruise throughout my life.

Merry Christmas amorality, I shipped of my ethics long ago.

Merry Christmas world that circulates dark and dead, may I pick the flesh off your bones without donating mine for years to come.