Welcome, fellow chrononauts, to to the year of someone’s Lord MMXVI! The latest strip is to me, the webcomic equivalent of the awesome, crushing and unassailable comeback that you think of a few minutes after the complete public dismantling of your highschool “rep” with a well-placed mother reference. Late, yes, but may the gods help the next one to cross you now that you possess this singular verbal tool of destruction. Yeah, yeah, wishful thinking, but bleh.
New subject: the mundanities of those society at large holds up to be great fascinate me, and who out of our myriad craven ‘gods’ must have to deal with the most mundane (by which I mean the material things you want) than the Coca Cola Corporation’s home-grown god himself, Saint Nick? Keeping score of the samaritans and sinners, organizing list after list, and each December 26th, enduring the brightly burning flames of hatred from well over 75% of the population who inevitably received chotchkeys other than what they were hoping for.
Careful children – maybe Santa will tire of your two-faced, 11 months of hate paired with 3 weeks of boot-licking optimism each year. Sometime, Santa may get someone to cover for him on Christmas Eve…someone who unflinchingly delivers the same cold gift to everyone…
