And as is traditional this time of year, here’s your link to HL Mencken’s A Bum’s Christmas:
On this last point, Fred laid special stress, and every city editor in Baltimore had to hear him expound it in person. I was one of those city editors, and I well recall his great earnestness, amounting almost to moral indignation. It was an unendurable outrage, he argued, to invite a poor man to a free meal and then make him wait for it while he was battered with criticism of his ways, however well intended. And it was an even greater outrage to call upon him to stand up in public and confess to all the false steps of what may have been a long and much troubled life. Fred was determined, he said, to give a party that would be devoid of all the blemishes of the similar parties staged by the Salvation Army, the mission helpers, and other such nefarious outfits. If it cost him his last cent, he would give the bums of Baltimore massive and unforgettable proof that philanthropy was by no means a monopoly of gospel sharks--that its highest development, in truth, was to be found among freethinkers.
I used to think it a bounden duty for every two legged adult to earn at least a couple of hangovers between Xmas and new year; now I think that's a fool's errand. But nonetheless, in honour of austerity and the spirit of allinit togetherness I’m having a Spartan festivus oriented around plain vodka and coke and vulgar red wines. See you on the other side.