8: ROY WOOD & WIZZARD – I Wish It Could Be Christmas Everyday

The archetypal Christmas song in both its lack of any redeeming features and nonsensical lyrics. Shall we start with the non-philosophical problems here?

“When the snowman brings the snow”

Yeah, okay. “When the Milkman brings the milk”, that would make sense. It was the early seventies so I guess you could have had “When the Coal man brings the coal”. Problem is there is little market in selling snow, even at the most festive of times. Its gosh darned difficult to store, its market value is relatively low for the storage costs and what fool is going to buy what they can get for free if the atmospheric conditions are right. And anyway, Snowmen are made of snow, they don’t bring the snow. It would be like saying, “When the blood and flesh man brings the gore”. Imagine Aled Jones singing about some snowman that kept on divesting his body everywhere. Then jumping back into his electrically power Snow Float and rattling down the street delivering bottles of snow to everyone. White, powdery residue everywhere – perhaps this is what Roy Wood meant, being off his tits on cocaine.

Before we get to the philosophical crutch of this argument we should digress at least briefly to look at the figure of Roy Wood. Not since a certain God of Hellfire, and not until Kiss had such half arsed face paint been applied to a fella. He must of scared the bejeasus out of all the little kids watching television. It was enough to scare you off of the entire concept of Christmas, let alone it occuring everyday.

And there you have it. Roy Wood is actually an enemy of Christmas. For if we had Christmas everyday, the holiday would no longer be special. You’d have to get really longlife Christams trees too. But what is by far and away worse is that Mr Wood is actually an enemy of mankind. Think: if it was Christmas everyday, it would be a holiday. So no-one would go to work. Foodstuff would stop being produced (especially because the weather would be inclement, what with that snowman bringing his snow and all). The police would all be on double time, but who would be paying them? No-one is working, manufacturing industry has ground to a halt – no taxation. Capitalism would fall apart, govvernments crumble – leading in anarchy.

With a badly face painted Roy Wood at the helm. And his badly spelt Wizzard. Let us thank god it is not Christmas everyday. And banish Roy Wood to the deepest pit of hell, the one where all enemies of mankind go. Along with Hitler, Pol Pot and Jimi Hendrix.