AN APPEAL TO THE TURKEYS: GIVE US SOMETHING TO BE THANKFUL FOR
Open letter from the editor's of this site to members of The Turkeys.
DEAR SIRES,
On this holiday week, as we celebrate the triumph of starvation over xenophobia among our nation's earliest religious crazies, we sometimes loose sight of what is really important about this holiday, Thanksgiving. It’s not just about having a holiday which, due to its eternal Thursdayness, often results in a Friday off too. Nor is it a chance to catch up with family and fill up the tank with the turk before the Blackest of Fridays. Nope, what’s really special about Thanksgiving is that, most likely due it its proximity to Christmas, it’s one of the few holidays that has not marched steadily towards increased commercialization in our lifetimes. Yes, there are TV specials and TV sales and decorations and goodness knows the sweet-potato people must make a killing – but, let’s face it – it’s really only on par with those other abstractly named occasions of the raised flag – Labor and Memorial.
BUT THERE IS SOMETHING SPECIAL-ER. A timeless tradition that goes back atleast a year. And that tradition is to see The Turkeys play on Thanksgiving. We know we are not alone in this demand. And yes, it does make us feel a little guilty to think that even with the unexpected Friendship reunion that night we are gluttons for more. But, oh, ye The Turkeys, how you are the pecan cobbler to set our minds to giving thanks. We have all seen you play without the entire flock, and seen it done well. We beg you, Nick, J Dagger, Lucas, Will and Joey: reform just one last time. Give us a taste, just a taste, to carry us through to the new year.
And you, people and citizens and readers of this blog, we urge you to contact any Turkeys you know and make a personal appeal for them to play. Likewise you, owner of clubs, houses, apartments, garages and/or corners no one has taken a leak in for several minutes, provide a space for our buckled bucklers to buckle.
Thanksgiving may come without you. It may even pass without you. But why let salty tears fill the space where a glorious outburst against the commercial Christmas creep could have been. Why give our hearts holes, when you could make us whole. We eagery await the announcement that you are playing and where.
Love,
THE EDITORS
DEAR SIRES,
On this holiday week, as we celebrate the triumph of starvation over xenophobia among our nation's earliest religious crazies, we sometimes loose sight of what is really important about this holiday, Thanksgiving. It’s not just about having a holiday which, due to its eternal Thursdayness, often results in a Friday off too. Nor is it a chance to catch up with family and fill up the tank with the turk before the Blackest of Fridays. Nope, what’s really special about Thanksgiving is that, most likely due it its proximity to Christmas, it’s one of the few holidays that has not marched steadily towards increased commercialization in our lifetimes. Yes, there are TV specials and TV sales and decorations and goodness knows the sweet-potato people must make a killing – but, let’s face it – it’s really only on par with those other abstractly named occasions of the raised flag – Labor and Memorial.
BUT THERE IS SOMETHING SPECIAL-ER. A timeless tradition that goes back atleast a year. And that tradition is to see The Turkeys play on Thanksgiving. We know we are not alone in this demand. And yes, it does make us feel a little guilty to think that even with the unexpected Friendship reunion that night we are gluttons for more. But, oh, ye The Turkeys, how you are the pecan cobbler to set our minds to giving thanks. We have all seen you play without the entire flock, and seen it done well. We beg you, Nick, J Dagger, Lucas, Will and Joey: reform just one last time. Give us a taste, just a taste, to carry us through to the new year.
And you, people and citizens and readers of this blog, we urge you to contact any Turkeys you know and make a personal appeal for them to play. Likewise you, owner of clubs, houses, apartments, garages and/or corners no one has taken a leak in for several minutes, provide a space for our buckled bucklers to buckle.
Thanksgiving may come without you. It may even pass without you. But why let salty tears fill the space where a glorious outburst against the commercial Christmas creep could have been. Why give our hearts holes, when you could make us whole. We eagery await the announcement that you are playing and where.
Love,
THE EDITORS
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