Santa Claus Is Coming To Town

Alright then! Christmas is really round the corner now, and I guess I'll just have to speed up my entries for my Collection of Constipated, Convoluted Carols. So here's one more:

Santa Claus Is Coming To Town

You better watch out

You better not cry

Better not pout I'm telling you why

Santa Claus is coming to town

He's making a list,

And checking it twice

Gonna find out who's naughty and nice.

Santa Claus is coming to town

He sees you when you're sleeping

He knows when you're awake

He knows if you've been bad or good

So be good for goodness sake!

You better watch out

You better not cry

Better not pout, I'm telling you why

Santa Claus is coming to town

Santa Claus is coming to town

Now this here song, my friends, is arguably one of the worst songs on the air right now. Why? Because it teaches children to be paranoid. Yes! Paranoid! How? Let me count the ways:

First stanza: "You better watch out... You better not cry... Better not pout I'm telling you why... Santa Claus is coming to town..." My goodness. I mean, what else do you think this means? It's blackmail, people! BLACKMAIL! You better not... You better not... Gasp! Horror of horrors! Now you're bribing a kid into not making a sound or a pip just because some old fellow in a white beard and a red suit is 'coming to town'? This was probably how the folks of olden days got their children to behave so well in the company of house guests... Gasp! What are we trying to turn our children into? Silent, noiseless walking androids about town?

Second stanza: Now this one's really scary. What do you mean by saying Santa's 'making a list' huh? A list of what, exactly? That's what I wanna know... Why does he have to check it twice? Check what twice? And why does he have to make a list of who's been 'naughty and nice'? Who is this guy anyway huh? The CIA? The FBI? Secret Service? Rakan Cop? It's driving me nuts? What list is Santa making this time? Is my name on it? Who put my name on it? Whatever it is - I DIDN'T DO IT! See? You're just gonna make all the cute little kids go nuts with all the secretive stuff... You're harping on their paranoia, people! That can't be right now... Can it?

Third stanza: Man, this is the ultimate in paranoia: "He sees you when you're sleeping... He knows when you're awake..." What? Now Santa Claus is a Peeping Tom? This is worse than all the horror movies they're showing on the telly and the cinema... Imagine this: There you are sleeping in your bed, and suddenly you hear a noise. You look up, and there, hanging on your window sill, is an old man, his white beard, pinkish nose, and stupid grin plastered on your window pane... And he's looking straight at you. And then he goes "Ho ho ho!"... I think I would scream. And run. Real fast. And the last two lines of this stanza: "He knows if you've been bad or good... So be good for goodness sake!" I mean, in the first place, how does Santa know whether I've been bad or good? Is he psychic? Or someone's been tale-telling eh? Who's telling him all these things huh? Who's leaking my every move and word to him? Who's spying on me? Children - being children and all - are gonna get really paranoid and suspicious of everything and everybody... Their parents, their siblings, their classmates, their teachers, the little cute puppy whose head they pet everyday, the fire hydrant sitting just outside their bedroom windows... It's called paranoia, my friends.

Fourth stanza: There's really nothing much to say about this stanza. It's pretty much repetitive... And the last two lines "Santa Claus is coming to town... Santa Claus is coming to town..." You know how phobias are formed in the first place? Tell a kid enough times that a snake is poisonous, and then repeat "Snakes are bad" a few times each day... Eventually the poor kid's gonna be so freaked out about snakes, the next time he sees one, he's not gonna scream, y'know. You know what he's gonna do when he sees a snake? He's gonna go berserk. I dunno. Maybe go hysterical, pee in his pants, faint... Oh no. He's not just gonna scream. That's not a big enough reaction to counter the complex you've drilled into him day in day out that snakes are bad... This is exactly what we're doing with this song, people. Tell a kid that Santa Claus is watching his every move, and he's gonna end up getting what I'd like to term the 'Santa Claus Syndrome' - and no, it's not as nice, or as fun, or as cute, as it sounds. Because the kid really is gonna have a phobia for all things related to Santa Claus and his Peeping Tom cum Secret Agent tendencies...

Do we want this for our future generation? I certainly hope not. And I sure hope you agree with me. The only solution to this?

Ban this song.

Carol Number Two: Grandma Got Run Over By A Reindeer

This is simply horrifying... Talk about songs that should be banned... This really should be banned! No need for me to go all analyzing and explaining this song... Just read! Brrrrrrrrrr! Simply horrifying.

Grandma Got Run Over By A Reindeer

Grandma got run over by a reindeer.

Walking home from our house Christmas eve.

You can say there's no such thing as Santa,

But as for me and grandpa we believe.

She'd been drinking too much eggnog,

And we begged her not to go.

But she forgot her medication, and she

Staggered out the door into the snow.

When we found her Christmas morning,

At the scene of the attack,

She had hoof-prints on her forehead,

And incriminating Claus marks on her back.

Grandma got run over by a reindeer.

Walking home from our house Christmas eve.

You can say there's no such thing as Santa,

But as for me and grandpa we believe.

Now we're all so proud of grandpa,

He's been taking this so well.

See him in there watching football,

Drinking root beer and

Playing cards with Cousin Mel.

It's not Christmas without Grandma,

All the family's dressed in black

And we just can't help but wonder:

Should we open up her gifts,

Or send them back?

Send them back!

Grandma got run over by a reindeer.

Walking home from our house Christmas eve.

You can say there's no such thing as Santa,

But as for me and grandpa we believe.

Now the goose is on the table

And the pudding made of fig

And the blue and silver candles

That would just have matched

The hair on grandma's wig.

I've warned all myfriends and neighbors

Better watch out for yourselves,

They should never give a license

To a man who drives a sleigh

And plays with elves.

Grandma got run over by a reindeer.

Walking home from our house Christmas eve.

You can say there's no such thing as Santa,

But as for me and grandpa we believe.

And to think I thought Christmas carols were all happy sweet little things to put smiles on people's faces... Urgh. The world is a cruel, twisted place indeed... And now we really know Santa Claus isn't as nice as we all thought he was, eh?

Another blog... Sigh.

Right, guys. I've set up another blog, but the thing is it's not really a blog as in a place where you write stuff etc. It's more like a place where I'll be putting up all the results of all sorts of quizzes, surveys, fun stuff, etc. that I've done on the Internet... So yeah, it's actually just a place to vent out my new hobby - taking useless quizzes! Muahahahaha! If, by any chance, you're even the least bit interested to take a look at it, go check it out here. I named it MyLifeAsACrazySurveyTaker for obvious reasons. Or you can access it by clicking on the link I've inserted on the left sidebar. Yeah I've even put in the link to my old blog. So that's it.

Tchau.

Rudolph the Red-Nosed Reindeer

You know what they say, right? 'Tis the season to be jolly, falalalala lalalala... Well, to cut a long story short, about 3 weeks ago, I had this brilliant stroke of genius! I was inspired to, er, come up with a collection of twisted songs... Y'know, songs that are usually viewed as perfectly normal and wholesome for the family and all that stuff... Well, one day I chanced upon a song, and upon further dissection (and a little imagination), I realised there was a hidden meaning to this song! So then I came up with this idea of this new project: getting all these songs and analysing them on my blog for everyone's viewing and reading (and hopefully laughing) pleasure... So here it is, my new project - Esther's Selection of Sick, Sarcastic Songs! The songs in this selection are songs which you should never let little kids with their young, easily impressionable minds listen to... And since it's that time of the year where every restaurant, shopping mall, and hawker stall beside the drain starts blaring out Christmas songs, let's start off this selection with Esther's Collection of Constipated, Convoluted Carols, starting off with the dissection of the popular children's song Rudolph the Red-Nosed Reindeer, which coincidentally, was the song I actually mentioned earlier, the one where I suddenly realised contained a hidden meaning. Enjoy.

Rudolph The Red-Nosed Reindeer

You know Dasher and Dancer
And Prancer and Vixen,
Comet and Cupid
And Donner and Blitzen.
But do you recall
The most famous reindeer of all?

Rudolph the red-nosed reindeer
Had a very shiny nose
And if you ever saw it
You would even say it glows

All of the other reindeer
Used to laugh and call him names
They never let poor Rudolph
Play in any reindeer games

Then one foggy Christmas Eve
Santa came to say
"Rudolph with your nose so bright
Won't you guide my sleigh tonight?"

Then all the reindeer loved him
And they shouted out with glee
"Rudolph the red-nosed reindeer
You'll go down in history!"

Now, the thing is, you're probably wondering what's so wrong (or constipated) about this song... This is where you need my help. Here, have a closer look:

First stanza

You know Dasher and Dancer

And Prancer and Vixen,

Comet and Cupid

And Donner and Blitzen.

But do you recall

The most famous reindeer of all?

As you can see (or maybe you can't), this entire song starts off wrong right from the very start! So what if I know Dasher and Dancer and Prancer and Vixen and Comet and Cupid and Donner and Blitzen? Our minds are precious things, with limited storage space! We shouldn't be wasting our memory banks on worthless details like the names of 8 reindeers! And even if you really wanted to remember their names, who would even in the first place wanna be friends with reindeer with really bad moral values? The name Vixen alone means "temperamental and sexy woman"! And Dasher means "one who makes an ostentatious parade"! You want your children to hang around with reindeer like these? Do you even want your children to make friends with reindeer? People befriend people - normal people do not befriend reindeer! And the last 2 lines of the stanza is actually promoting a very negative value - competitiveness and popularity. So what if I don't recall the most famous reindeer of them all? Are the IUBR (International United Board of Reindeer, Inc.) gonna come and stage a riot or something if I can't remember their names? Stop it with all this competitiveness already, people!

Second stanza
Rudolph the red-nosed reindeer
Had a very shiny nose
And if you ever saw it
You would even say it glows

I find this stanza very disturbing. I cannot emphasize the total gruesomeness of this stanza much more than this: Not every one is lucky enough to be born with a non-shiny nose. We are all different. Some people are more fortunate than others, and are born with lovely, smooth noses that don't shine in the moonlight. Other people, are well... Less lucky. This is the case with Rudolph. My question is this - so what if he has a birth defect? He still deserves every inch of respect and love from the reindeer community, okay? This is a very sensitive issue and I really don't know how best to breach this topic to you all out there reading this here article. So Rudolph the poor miserable reindeer had a humongous, glow-in-the-dark lightbulb at the very tip of his breathing device. So what? It can still perform its original function, right? A nose is meant for breathing with, not meant for you to go all around the world on Santa's sleigh to show it off, okay? And man, the last 2 lines of the 2nd stanza... Arguably the worst lines to be found in this song. So now we wanna teach our future generations to poke fun at reindeer with red, shining noses? Fine, go ahead, but let this be known: by teaching them to ridicule people's noses, you are gonna teach them to be prejudiced and biased against people with less-than-perfect noses. Shame!

Third stanza
All of the other reindeer
Used to laugh and call him names
They never let poor Rudolph
Play in any reindeer games

I really don't need to say much about this stanza. It's self-explanatory in its entirety. Look, let's just use our imaginations a little and try to put ourselves in Rudolph's miserable shoes: There you are, you have a gargantuan traffic light for a nose, and all you wanna do is crawl up into a little hole and die from the embarrassment of it all (twinkly noselights are not cool), all you wanna do is run away and hide, and all you were really hoping for was for everyone else to just pretend there was no hideous monstrosity on your sniffing device, and maybe in your wildest dreams, everyone would still wanna be your friend... Does this happen? Sadly, no. What does happen is the complete opposite of everything you were wishing and hoping for. In fact, what does happen is something out of your very worst nightmare. Every other reindeer friend you had, and even your own reindeer family, they all come out of their little perfect reindeer homes and they all start pointing their antlers at you and start laughing. Yes. Laughing. At you. And they all avoid you on the streets when you go shopping for new antler stockings. And all the mother reindeer, when they see you walking towards them, they all kinda shrink and shudder away from your gaze, and pull their darling baby reindeer with their perfect little noses closer towards themselves, away from you... As if the little Christmas ornament was contagious or something! And when you try to be nice and friendly, and you give that cute little baby reindeer in the reindeer trolley a sweet smile, what does he do but burst out in hysterical wailings of "Monster! Get him away from me!" And you knw what's the very worst part of this whole catastrophe? In Reindeer High School, your own reindeermates don't even want to talk to you... They don't even let you join in their little gossips and stupid playground games. And all these, just because your nose is sort of more shiny than other reindeer's. Oh, the shame and humiliation of it all. Poor Rudolph.

Fourth stanza
Then one foggy Christmas Eve
Santa came to say
"Rudolph with your nose so bright
Won't you guide my sleigh tonight?"

Okay. The story so far: Imagine you're Rudolph the deeply misunderstood reindeer. You're on the brink of madness. You just wanna crawl under your bedsheets and sleep for one week straight. Then on Christmas Eve, Santa comes knocking on your door. Okay. He doesn't quite do that. What he actually does is throw little pebbles on your little reindeer bedroom window and yell out "Hey, Lightbulb-Face! Come out! I've got something to say to you!" Of all the people in Reindeer Town, you'd think Santa would understand right? Wrong. Santa, in actual reality, isn't all that nice as everyone says he is. He's just got a really good publicist, who pays off the right media people with enough money to spread the image of a jolly smiling white-bearded Santa. In actual fact, Santa's got two earrings in his left earlobe and his breath reeks of the beer he drank from the last party he attended. So then, what does Santa want with Rudolph the acne-prone reindeer? It all goes back to his really good publicist, see... Rudolph's already renowned the whole world over for his little torchlight-for-a-nose problem, see, and what better way to boost up the image of kind and charitable Santa than taking Rudolph under your wings and kinda like, pretending to befriend him, see? So Santa does just that, and he says to Rudolph: "Yo, Rudy! Think you can handle my turbo power SuperSleigh?" It's the image power-up scheme see, and also, Santa's a little bit on the drunken side, and so are all his turbo power sleigh-driving reindeer, and there's been a leak from the Reindeer Cops that there's gonna be a bust-up tonight, see, and they're gonna have reindeer roadblocks on every turning and they're whipping out the Reindeer Breathalysers tonight... This is where Rudolph comes in. Sober, I-don't-drink-alcohol Rudolph. Poor Rudolph. Getting tricked, being used, and he doesn't even have a clue.

Fifth stanza
Then all the reindeer loved him
And they shouted out with glee
"Rudolph the red-nosed reindeer
You'll go down in history!"

This is the most widely misunderstood stanza in the entire song. Everybody thinks that you know what? After Rudolph leads Santa's sleigh right, suddenly he's popular, and all the reindeer wanna be his friends now, and they've finally accepted Rudolph and his blinking-headlight nose, and now things are just spiffy, and sparkly clean, and oh-so-lovely, and everybody lives happily ever after in Reindeer Town. That's the original story. Or so the entire world thinks. You wanna know what really happens? I got this from a reindeer frined who was actually at the scene of the crime that night. Here's what really happened: So Rudolph, being the sad little reindeer that he is, you know, just looking for a little love and acceptance amongst his fellow reindeer, of course he says "Yes, I'll guide your sleigh, Santa!" and he left that night in a blaze of upturned snow from the over-pumped turbo power SuperSleigh exhaust pipe. What Rudolph forgot, and apparently what every other silly reindeer in little Reindeer Town forgot, was that Rudolph - poor little pathetic reindeer - was underaged! I mean, hello! He didn't even have a Reindeer Class Driving License! What else do you think could have happened? He took a U-turn a little too fast, a little too dangerously, and the entire SuperSleigh kinda came to a crashing somersault, right there just above the blinking lights of the Eiffel Tower. I mean, honestly, how he even got that far from the South Pole to Paris without being caught by the Reindeer Cops, I dunno. So of course, they arrested him, and locked him up in the Bastille (yes, apparently it's still up and operating, but they only admit 'special' cases)... The last I heard of Rudolph, he was sharing a cell with the likes of Robin Hood (crimes of stealing, rioting, shooting illegal game in Sherwood Forest), Woody Woodpecker (illegal logging of precious Amazonian trees), and Cinderella (fraud and false identity, apparently... She couldn't quite leave behind her old life and the Prince used to find her in the middle of the night in the Palace kitchens, rubbing charcoal on her face, the floor, the walls... The final straw was when she rubbed soot into his brand new Cadillac).

So you see, my friends? When they said Rudolph would go down in history, they really did mean just that. He's history now.

Now you see why we should ban this song from the airwaves? And keep them out of little children's innocent little ears? Now you know.

Poor Rudolph.

A totally original EVSH fictional work of art.

Saturday and Sunday

As the title states, this blog entry concerns this past 2 days.

Saturday, 16th Dec. '06: Woke up rather early I think... Had a breakfast/light lunch of instant noodles in the cup thingy where y'know you just add in the hot water and stuff. Drove up to church, where had practise session for Sunday's praise and worship. Drove back home at approximately 2 pm, where I had my lunch of this interesting combination of chicken and pork slices drenched with a thick, starchy curry gravy. Yummy! One of my favourite meals! When I'm actually sitting in the shop eating it, I can consume up to 3 or 4 little saucers of their lovely chilli sauce. I think my best record so far's 5 little saucers. I think their workers must think I'm mad or something. Seriously though, their chilli sauce is really something special. After lunch, watched a little TV, then retired to my room to read Firestarter. At about 4.30 pm, set out to church again, where we had another practise session, this time for the Youth service. Then Youth started at 6 pm, and ended at about 9 pm after a potbless dinner - i.e. everybody brings a dish. Went home, I think I went online for a while... Frankly I can't quite remember. I think I went back up to my room and did some reading. I remember listening to some music on my laptop. Ah yes... And then I had a terrible stomach ache at approximately 1.30 am! Ouch!

Sunday, 17th Dec. '06: Woke up at 7.20 am, went to church. Played bass. Reached home at 11.30 am. Watched a little TV. Went to sleep. My mom woke me up at about 4.30 pm and asked me if I wanted to go buy some clothes. Definitely! So I went with her, and I came back at 6 pm with a new pair of long jeans, a new pair of 3 quarter jeans, and a new pair of bright orange sandals. Muahahahaha! So happy! New clothes - especially an extra pair of jeans - always makes me really happy! Watched a really nice Hindi movie starring Salman Khan and Manisha Koirala. I missed the first half because I went shopping. Then watched the program - which one is that? The yet-another-same-old reality show thingy where they're looking for some new ambassador of sorts for that shampoo thingy. Yeah. And I'm here now, typing all this out for you all to read...

That's my Saturday and Sunday!

Finally 21!

Wow... I almost can't believe it. I'm actually, really, truly, finally 21! Phew! It's such a great relief to be finally here... All day long two days ago (which by the way, if you haven't already known, was actually my birthday), I kept getting all these sms-es telling me stuff like "Welcome to the 21 club!" or "Congrats on reaching 21!" and other similar patterns... So I was, like, thinking, right... What's so great about being 21? I mean, it's only just another number, right? Well, not really, I guess. It's supposed to be this really big thing lar... And I'm really glad! Something's currently very wrong with my Pendrive, so I can't post any pictures here, but once I actually do get it reformatted (or something like that), I'll post up some pictures of the gifts I've received in conjunction with me reaching the adulthood crossroads and driving fast speed right through it.

One of my most treasured birthday presents is a book my dad bought for me. We bought it on my birthday itself. We went to the Times Bookshop at night, and I chose the book myself - Stephen King's Firestarter. I actually read the book many years back, when I was still comparatively younger and all, when my dad brought it home one day. To say that I voraciously devoured the book would be one of the greatest understatements of all time. I simply fell more or less in love with the book. I mean, the plot - it's simply fabulous! There are almost no words to describe the book. So why did I choose it as my present if I've already read it, you're asking? Because, like I've said just a few sentences ago, I really do like the book a lot. I mean, I've been searching almost everywhere these past few years for the book, just hoping, y'know, if I saw it maybe I could buy it and all... But I never did quite see it lying around... And now I have the book! Muahahahaha! It's really mine now! Teeheeheehee! I'm so happy! It's simply beautiful, I tell you! I just started reading (or rather, re-reading) the book today, and I'm ever so careful with the handling of its precious pages... Turning the page oh-so-tenderly, taking precious care not to wreck/tear/fold its oh-so-precious binding and page corners... Muahahahaha! I'm really just so happy! Almost to the point of delirium, eh?

Well, that's it from me for now... Thanks to everyone for the birthday sms-es, messages, greetings, and presents. I really do appreciate it! It's been a fantabulous birthday for me, and I hope when I'm older, my brain cells and memory banks won't fail me, and I'd still be able to look back to this year and say to my grandkids: "Ah... Now that was a great 21st birthday to remember!"

Cheers.

Memory pieces...

Well. I guess this is it. It's approximately 8.15 pm now. Another 3 hours and 45 minutes to the 14th of December, 2006. What's so special about this date? Because it is on this historical date, people, that Esther Voon will finally hit the big 21, forever leaving behind the digits 1 to 20 as she continues bravely onwards (really?) on the road of adulthood, marching onwards to more and more digits as the years continue to fly quickly by... Right?

Wrong!

Esther shall always be Esther, however old she may be! Even when Esther's digits have hit 99, Esther shall still be tearing around the Christmas tree, shrieking with glee and scaring her grandchildren with her clumsy hops and skips, muahahahaha! So like it or not, people, Esther shall always be Esther. *grins*

But honestly though, looking back on all those childish years (they say 21 year olds are officially adults, eh?), I can't help but wonder where it all went. Looking back, I wonder if there was anything I could have changed? The answer is definitely. But then again, those are just memory pieces now. Yup, memory pieces. Why memory pieces? Why have I titled my blog entry this time to be 'Memory Pieces'? LoL! I started listening to some of Jerry Yan's songs, and there's oe song of his that I like very much, and it's called 'Memory Pieces', and I kinda thought, yeah, it'll be a nice title for a blog entry, don't you think? Anyway, it's really very apt, y'know. Memory pieces. They really are memory pieces. Pieces from our past, treasured and stored in our memory chests, onew which from time to time, we take out and flip through. Pieces from our past, great chunks reminiscent of a great childhood past (or in my case, a constant childhood, like it or not, teehee!).

Enough of all this philosophical melancholy. I'm a happy person. I'm a funny person. So far this blog entry has been neither. Moving on...

Last night, three of my great church buddies - Trish, Cassie, and Evelette - came over to my house at approximately 7.45 pm. They'd planned it kinda as a surprise thingy, so when I saw them, yeah. So we had like an impromptu birthday celebration thingy, right there in my house. They even came bearing gifts! For little ole me! Muahahahaha! Thanks you guys! I really do appreciate you three coming over like that, and taking the effort to drive over with food and drinks and all. And thanks to the other two guys who contributed to the gifts. I love the pressies you all! *big grin*

Maybe turning 21 isn't quite so bad after all... I mean, there are a few benefits that come with officially being granted 'adult' status. Right off the top of my head, I can think of a few ideas:

(1) Getting a really big 4-wheel drive and driving amok through town, screaming hysterically at the top of my little lungs, and blaming it all on stress from the workplace, the toot-ing boss, the highly competitive colleagues, the overload of work projects... I mean, only adults suffer from work pressure, right?

(2) Getting arrested for driving a really big 4WD through town and screaming hysterically at the top of my little lungs... I mean like, if I weren't an adult, I won't even be able to be arrested, right? I mean, correct me if I'm wrong, but the young escape with everything, so this time, I won't be able to escape, right?

(3) Getting free lodging, food, and company for a few nights, compliments of the city council jail for running amok, screaming at the top of my little lungs through town. I mean, how many youngsters can boast of this, huh?

Boy, being an adult sure is fun. So here's to me hitting the big 21 tomorrow...

"Happy Birthday to ME,

Happy Birthday to ME,

Happy Birthday to Esther...

Happy Birthday to ME!"

P.S. How many people do you know who actually go all out to write themselves their very own birthday tributes eh? And how many people do you know who actually go out and sing to themselves a Happy Birthday? I'm really 'special', eh? End of P.S.