Dingus of the week: "Do They Know It's Christmas?"
Dingus of the week: "Do They Know It's Christmas?"
Plus, Substack wyd?
This is the dingus of the week. It’s the newsletter where I make fun of someone or something that’s making our lives a little bit worse for wear.
More and more people rely on the weekly dingus as that little reminder that yes, the world is deranged, but we will keep making jokes until morale improves or we are engulfed in flames.
*Salutes while the world burns in the background.*
I do not know about you but it’s mid-December and my brain is just hot cocoa — warm brown mush that I keep topping off with whipped cream to assure everyone it’s fine, just fine.
Subscribe so you do not miss one minute of my mental breakdown which I, the good capitalist, have learned to monetize.
Last year, I crowned “The Little Drummer Boy” as the worst Christmas song that ever existed. The choice was controversial. The Woke Left1 tried to cancel me for my bold ideas and radical truth-telling that there is absolutely no good version of that song, no not even the David Bowie version.
I have to admit, points were made. And I might have died on that hill.
And so, this year, I’d like to discuss another Christmas song that has struck terror, cringe, and absolute annoyance into the hearts of people around the world.
And that is the song “Do They Know It’s Christmas?”
Do you like your colonialism with some rad synth 80s beats? Do you like smug cultural hegemony sung by dudes with mullets?
Well, I have the song for you.
If you can believe it, the song which is a top contender for the worst song of all time, was written and performed and gotten into stores so quickly, no one had time to question its existence.
The song was written by Bob Geldof who saw a BBC report on a famine in Ethiopia. He wrote the song, roped in his famous friends, recorded it in one yowling, obnoxious day, and then boom. The song was released.
The birth of “Do They Know It’s Christmas” was a real moment where the scientists were so preoccupied with whether or not they could, they never stopped to think if they should.
In a real, Dr. Frankenstein moment, even Bob Geldof, the creator, said the song was one of the worst songs of all time.
And listen, sure, you can argue that the song was meant well. These celebrities just wanted to, in their words, “Feeeed the woooooooorllllllldddd.” And okay.
But we have to stop giving celebrities and rich people a pass for doing narcissistic PR things on the backs of people with actual needs. If you wanted to feed the world so badly, you could just donate some money and shut up. But no, no, you gotta yodel some self-serving lyrics into a mic and make everyone think how nice you are before you scamper back into your mansion.
Is that not fair? Well, I simply don’t care. The end result is that every holiday season my ears are assaulted with this song, and as I scream cry, and throw up, I think, Is it even Christmas without the oppressive benevolence of wealthy white people? Is that the real reason for the season? Is the real meaning of Christmas the rich people who oppressed us on their way to the top?
It reminds me of a recent story in The Nation, that argued that Bill Gates’s much-celebrated philanthropy, is self-serving and designed to make him richer and scrub his image as a billionaire, into one of a billionaire nice guy.
For a guy who publicly claims that his “total focus” is helping the global poor, Gates also appears to devote considerable time to sitting for self-aggrandizing interviews—often with news outlets that his private foundation funds. Talking to BBC, the recipient of millions of dollars from the Gates Foundation, he once again took softball questions about whether he had ambitions to go into space, using the opportunity to trumpet his philanthropic work on Earth. A child’s life can be saved for only $1,000, Gates noted, echoing similar claims he has made for years. It seems more than fair, at a point, to aim Gates’s data analysis at his own wealth. By Gates’s own figures, his $184 billion wealth could save 184 million lives—if he gave that money away.
It reminds me of the time, I went to a talk where the founder of North Face talked about all he’s been working to save the planet. And I raised my hand and asked, “If you want to save the planet, why don’t you just shut down your entire company? No one needs it.”
And then everyone in the room got uncomfortable and the guy looked at me for a long time. And then just changed the subject.
Neoliberalism is one hell of a drug, I guess. And this neoliberalism birthed us the fever dream baroque nightmare song of “Do They Know It’s Christmas” for which there is no quinine antidote!
The song itself asks a question, which can be answered, “Yeah, they freaking know it’s Christmas because you literally won’t shut up about it.”
Okay, let me know the worst holiday song in the comments.
Runner up: Substack letting Nazis profit off the platform
Listen, I love Substack. It’s helped me build a business and a life that I don’t think would be possible elsewhere. But I don’t think it’s too much to ask that people who self-identify as Nazis not be able to monetize their hate. (If you have no idea what I am talking about, read this story in The Atlantic.) Like, I get it. It’s America. Freedom of speech means freedom of speech. And that means freedom to write ideas and share ideas that I find abhorrent. I am not pro-censorship. But I do think there is censorship and then there is the promotion of these ideas, and maybe, don’t promote them?
Marisa Kabas over
organized Substackers into making a statement on the issue, which I fully co-signed.Part of that statement reads:
In the past you have defended your decision to platform bigotry by saying you “make decisions based on principles not PR” and “will stick to our hands-off approach to content moderation.” But there’s a difference between a hands-off approach and putting your thumb on the scale. We know you moderate some content, including spam sites and newsletters written by sex workers. Why do you choose to promote and allow the monetization of sites that traffic in white nationalism?
The emphasis is mine there. And I liked what
had to say about it all. Just like there are no good billionaires, there are no good platforms or media outlets. Once money is involved, it all gets squicky. And I will say this about Substack, they have always listened when I’ve sent emails about various issues and concerns, which isn’t something I can say about the “locally owned independent” media outlets I’ve worked for in the past.And I think, having worked in media for over 20 years, I understand there are no perfect places, but only the places we work to make better.
And now for something good:
Over on Reddit, someone asked for good things happening in America, and the responses are filled with stories about rabies vaccines and the IRS allowing people to file their taxes for free. (THANK YOU, ELIZABETH WARREN! I SEE YOU!) Scientists are helping seastars return from the brink of extinction. And a breast cancer vaccine is in early trial stages. A cure for sickle cell disease has been approved by the FDA.
Reading through all those good things reminded me of what Rebecca Solnit wrote last June in The Guardian about not giving into despair.
If you announce that the outcome has already been decided and we’ve already lost, you strip away the motivation to participate – and of course if we do nothing we settle for the worst outcome. It often seems that people are searching harder for evidence we’re defeated than that we can win. Warnings are a valuable thing, given with the sense that there’s something we can do to prevent the anticipated outcome; prophesies assume the future is settled and there’s nothing we can do. But the defeatists often describe a present they assert are locking in the worst outcomes.
And also, Jezebel is back! It’s a real “I lived bitch” moment for feminist media.
Also, in other good news, THIS AMERICAN EX-WIFE THE PODCAST is live now.
You can hear the podcast wherever good podcasts are aired. I have to admit, Google podcasts is giving me issues because of their switch to YouTube. I’ll figure it out. So, my apologies to the Google podcast fans.
New episodes will air every Thursday and subscribers will always get first access through the newsletter. I am just going to tell you right now, that Maggie Smith is a guest and so is Morgan Jerkins. SO GET EXCITED! Please rate and review the show if you can.
What I am drinking:
Last weekend, I got to go to the wedding of two people who I love with my whole heart. I drank wine and danced with friends old and new. And I thought about what a joy it is to know people. To participate in their lives and to celebrate with them. I love how our lives weave together between these celebrations and inevitably there will be mourning, there is always mourning. But scraping up joy through candlelight, the Cupid shuffle, and mounds of cake. That’s not nothing. That is in fact, everything.
On Thursday night, I went to the opening of a new restaurant in town. I made sure my friend and I parked a little distance away so we could walk across the river and see the new building from afar. I’ve lived in this town for such a long time now. Even though I am not from here, it has become my home. And it didn’t become my home through inertia. Like any life scraped together in the American Middle West, it became my home through tragedy, disaster, and loss.
Walking across the bridge, I marveled at what a beautiful town this has become. I know it’s taken planning and hard work. Many of the people I disagree with in town over local issues made this happen. And I only bring that up because I think it’s important that we scrap through this life together.
Walking into the restaurant and up to the bar, I complimented a woman on her hair and it was truly glorious hair. It turned out, she worked for Cedar Ridge Distillery, and I told her how for one fall in my early 20s, I tried to earn extra money by picking grapes at the Distillery. Truly miserable back-breaking work, for which I was paid virtually no money. She asked if we liked bourbon. And because it was so loud in the restaurant, I thought she said, “Mermen.” And no, I don’t like mermen. But I do like bourbon. We cleared up the misunderstanding. She bought us drinks.
We talked about life and single motherhood. And she smiled and flipped her beautiful hair and said, “I just feel so angry all the time.”
I laughed, because what a joy it is to see a place you love, build into something beautiful. We are still so angry. But we have so much hope.
I mean “Woke Left” in the classical sense “people with thoughtful and intelligent opinions different than my own.”
Sorry not sorry, but the absolute WORST Christmas song of all time, no contest, is "Wonderful Christmastime." I would give up ever listening to a Beatles' song again if it would make that song disappear from existence. TERRIBLE. Paul McCartney should be unknighted for it. I SAID WHAT I SAID!
I would hazard to say that "The Christmas Shoes" is the worst Christmas song ever; why is this child spending his money on shoes for his dying mother? Ugh, the glurge. But also, on the subject of "Do They Know It's Christmas," um--yes? Because a lot of people in Africa, where they may in fact be in snow--it's a whole continent, you see--are Christians. Missionaries and colonialism made it so.