Err, Zoe, Chill Out Dear.

Zoe Williams on the rampant consumerism of the British:

I flew on Christmas Day once and had so many free Quality Street at check-in that I threw up on the plane. Not in the manner of an eight-year-old, either. I was 30.

Well, that would explain much of the output of the Guardian’s commentary page, it’s written by eight year olds. I’ll scweam and scweam until you give me what I want, a perfect world at no cost. Sheesh.

This is still craziness, on an epic scale - people will look at these snaking lines of shoppers one day and think as we do about the youngsters queueing up really cheerfully to go and die in 1914.

Not quite sure this even rises to the level of an eight year old. Agreed, I’ve not had much to do with those of that age in recent decades but surely even they would see that spending one’s own money, in however deluded a manner, is rather different from lining up for slaughter in the name of King and Empire.

The day after Christmas, once deemed an excellent time to chase country vermin, must yawn emptily for the reformed poshos.

Zoe, hon’, please, get a grip. Boxing Day this year was on a Sunday. There is no hunting on a Sunday. You might have noted that the Boxing Day meets actually took place on Monday this year. Please, if you insist on using facts in your witterings could you please make sure they are correct? I have been guilty of the same error so I know how cathartic it is to acknowledge such mistakes and try to do better next time. Good for the soul even but I’m sure you wouldn’t want to discuss such things at this time of year.