Christmas is coming and it isn’t only the goose that’s getting fat – so are you. That’s according to the skinny, pie-dodging miserable lot who make up the public-health lobby. For these people – who are living proof that a lack of sugar makes you cranky – the countdown to Christmas isn’t an opportunity to excite kids about Santa’s sack or splurge on gifts for loved ones; no, it’s an ideal time to freak people out about the dangers of eating and drinking too much.
Every year it’s the same. It starts in November. An alcohol-awareness group (a fancy term for the neo-temperance movement) and obesity experts (a grand title for fat-shamers) rattle off press releases about the awful things we’ll do to our guts and livers. As the Christmas decor goes up and the Oxford Street lights come on, the new puritans come out, fingers cocked for wagging, to lecture us about the fat in a lard-laced spud or the number of calories in a slab of Christmas pudding slathered in custard and brandy butter: 1,174, apparently.
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