A Hansen How-to Guide™

A COUPLE of years back, I wrote a Hansen How-to Guide™ for The Chaser that taught you ways to show the ENTIRE, GODLESS WORLD how incredibly LITTLE you care about Christmas.

Well, here's the updated edition of that indispensable holiday-decimating Guide™. I suppose if you didn't enjoy the first one, then it really will be exceedingly unlikely that you'll read this one, so goodbye.

Everyone else… WELCOME to the WORLD of NOT CARING ABOUT CHRISTMAS!!!

Christmas: No One Cares.

JESUS would tell you that Christmas began as a religious thing. But HE was around hundreds, perhaps billions of years ago.

Nowadays, we must face up to the dismal, dingy, dingo-smelling truth:

You shouldn't care.

Mrs Claus's merry-big-D-cups spirit of goodwill to all has been leeched away over the last century by the dogmatic imperatives of a capitalist market.

Yes, that means you, EMPOWERED MAN! You got what you wanted at last! No one should care about Christmas!

NOW, let this Guide™ tell you the best ways to DEMONSTRATE your SHEER LACK OF CARING.

Activity 1: TrolleyLift™

There really are just SO MANY WAYS to show you don't care! Let's start with TrolleyLift™.

You play this game in a shopping centre. As you know, the only thing worse than the fact "Christmas shopping" starts in October is the way so many people pompously point that out. Worse still are people who point that out, and then do their Christmas shopping in October anyway.

Well, TrolleyLift™ is a game that helps you demonstrate to EVERYONE – both the capitalist merchants who run Christmas AND the tiresome shoppers with their faux-cynicism about it – how little you care about ANY of the materialistic, "goods transaction"-related side to Christmas.

First, go to a shopping centre. This should be an easy start to the activity, as you'll almost certainly find you already live quite close to a shopping centre. Unless you live in the desert, in which case you'll be living quite far from a shopping centre and may need to travel some distance to reach one, presumably on a camel.

If you live at a point that's precisely equidistant from two or more shopping centres, you may choose any one of those shopping centres to play this game in. Unless you suffer from obsessive-compulsive disorder, in which case you may need to agonise for months over which shopping centre to go to. The best thing to do if that happens is seek psychiatric help – this shouldn't present a problem to you unless there are two or more psychiatrists working equidistant from your home.

Once you're at the shopping centre, head for the lifts.

Get into the first lift that comes. With luck, there'll be a mother in there with a shopping trolley and a couple of tiny kids in tow, all trying to reach another floor. If no such mother is present, simply ride around in the lift until one shows up.

A word of warning – if you find a FATHER in the lift rather than a mother, or indeed if you find a COUPLE in there, then you will probably sustain some degree of injury during the completion of this activity. This is because men are physically stronger than women, particularly in situations of extreme conflict, and competing in TrolleyLift™ against a man may hamper your chances of not being horribly harmed.

Naturally, if other people are also present in the lift, this could result in a "mob"-style situation developing, but seeing as YOU DON'T CARE, let's proceed.

Once the doors are shut, turn to the mother and say politely, "Excuse me, madam. May I sit in your shopping trolley?"

Whatever bewildered reply your question may elicit, do not wait to even hear it. Leap immediately into the lady's trolley with an enthusiastic cry of "Wahay!" If the trolley is full of gifts or groceries, so much the better – simply perch atop them, crushing the delicate packages under the weight of your uncaring buttocks.

Straight away, manoeuvre the trolley across the lift doors.

At this point, you may become the subject of rather pressing questions or demands from the lady (and from other persons, if present). The lady's children, too, may react oddly to your trolley-entering behaviour, staring up at you in silent amazement. Regardless, whatever the mother or anyone else says to you, you should simply repeat "I can't hear you, I'm in a trolley" – the effect of which should be to convey in no uncertain terms the notion that you don't care about their Christmas.

Whenever the lift arrives at a floor, your challenge is to reach over and slam down the "close-doors" button as fast as possible, so that no one can enter or leave. See how long you can keep travelling up and down in the lift while fending off the blows of those trapped within!

Eventually, shopping centre security will intervene and drag you forcibly out of the lift, finally freeing the hysterical, gibbering mother and her traumatised children (and other persons, if present). At this point, simply allow the security guards to escort you to the police while you bellow across the food court, "Merry Christmas everyone! I don't care!"

Activity 2: CharityConfusion™

As Christmas approaches, CHARITIES will start ringing up and doorknocking people's homes to plead for donations. SOME people respond positively to such requests, and give away their money to provide a day's soup to some flea-bitten waif. Well, the CharityConfusion™ activity is aimed squarely at such charitable types.

It's a simple game, and fun. Just go doorknocking around your neighbourhood, posing as a collector for some charity or other. I believe these charities include the Red Cross, the Salvation Army, and Carelight or Careflight or something similar sounding. Any one of these or any other charity will do.

Knock on someone's door. Or, if they appear to have a doorbell, ring the doorbell instead. It doesn't matter, really – either of these two methods is an effective means of attracting the attention of somebody within and enticing them to come to the door.

Introduce yourself as being from whichever charity you've chosen. Let's suppose you're pretending to be from the Red Cross. You should greet the person by saying, "Hello, my name's Alex. I'm from the Red Cross, and we're wondering if you'd like to make a Christmas donation to feed the homeless?" Which is roughly what charity collectors say to people in my estimation.

Now, IF the person REFUSES to make a donation… fine! Leave them and proceed to the next house. They're obviously someone who DOESN'T CARE about Christmas, and should be rewarded accordingly by being left alone.

BUT IF the person AGREES to give a donation, they ought to be PUNISHED.

Say to them in a tone of great enthusiasm, "Well that's wonderful. What amount would you like to offer? Remember that any donation is tax deductible if it's more than – "

Now stop right there, mid-sentence, and feign a heart attack. Begin coughing and gasping, clutching at your convulsing throat with one hand. See if you can strain yourself so your face turns as red as a bulging lychee. Lurch madly around the porch, flailing your free arm in the air as if seeking purchase. Then collapse onto your knees, hard, and try desperately to suck in precious lungfuls of oxygen through your constricted oesophagus.

The person you're with has already proven themselves to be a guilt-ridden humanitarian, so during your simulated cardiac failure you'll probably find them expressing some degree of concern. This might begin with a simple "Are you alright?" but should rapidly escalate to panic.

Hurl yourself bodily onto the ground, thrashing like a wounded python as the person clumsily sidesteps around you, unsure what to say or whether they should attempt to take hold of you. Then release a single, marrow-cooking shriek, and finally fall completely limp.

At this point, the person will probably say some words to the effect of, "Oh my goodness, stay right there and I'll call an ambulance", and start rushing back inside to make the call.

It is now that you should immediately leap to your feet, laughing heartily. "Heh heh heh, no need!" you should say. "No need whatsoever, I'm completely fine!"

"I beg your pardon? Are you sure?" they'll say.

"Yes, yes [laughing merrily]. I was only faking it. It was just a joke! I haven't had a heart attack at all! Wahay!"

"Well that wasn't very funny," they'll say. "You really had me worried there. What the hell were you thinking?"

You should now apologise profusely and get all serious again. Say, "You're right, that was very stupid of me. Very stupid. I'm sorry, sometimes things come over me… strange things… anyway, back to your donation. How much would you like to – "

Stop right there again, mid-sentence… and feign ANOTHER heart attack.

Leap to and fro, madly pressing your palms into your chest and wheezing like a steam engine. The person will no doubt say, "Get off my property."

And here's the real trick to playing CharityConfusion™: to win the game, you have to convince the person that THIS heart attack, your second one, is REAL. Splutter, "My God, I'm not kidding this time!" They'll say, "Goodbye" and start closing the door. Quickly say, "I was kidding the first time, but I think I really did strain something while I was joking around! My God, please, I feel like the boy who cried wolf but there's definitely something wrong with my heart! Aargh! Aaargh! Aaaargh!" And sink down, hiccuping weakly.

Depending on the strength of your performance, the person should ideally run off and phone the ambulance. Allow them to do so, and then run away down the street.

Congratulations – you've just confused a charitable person at Christmas time! And that goes to show that YOU DON'T CARE!

NB: For an added challenge, try for three heart attacks, admitting the first two were fake but the third is utterly genuine.

AND FROM THE PREVIOUS EDITION OF THE GUIDE™…

Activity 3: MeltIce-PaperFreeze™

There are just SO MANY WAYS to show you don't care! Let's start with MeltIce-PaperFreeze™.

This game helps you show that you don't care about the crass frivolities of consumerism. Your victim: the convenience store owner of your choice.

Pop into any convenience store at 4:30pm, exactly an hour before the store is due to fill up with after-work customers.

Your product targets are the MAGNUM ICE CREAMS and the TOILET PAPER. Using CHRISTMAS CUNNING, stealthily swap the two around.

That's right, swap the toilet paper and the ice creams, without the manager noticing. When you're done, there'll be a shelf of Magnum ice creams and a freezer-full of toilet paper.

Now hurry to the counter, and casually engage the owner in conversation as if you've just popped in with lots of time to spare.

Talk to them for one hour.*

Now it's 5:30pm, and the store will suddenly fill up. Relax and enjoy the shopkeeper's un-Christmassy confusion as dozens of irate customers bellow:

1. 'Why are these rolls of toilet paper frozen solid? They will snap on my arse!', AND

2. 'What are these soggy little sachets of sweet milk labelled Magnum doing on the shelf?'

At this point, parade triumphantly out of the store, crying, 'Merry Christmas! I don't care!'

* TIP: Because convenience store owners are of Middle Eastern extraction, you may wish to employ the story-telling techniques of Scheherezade from 1001 Arabian Nights to string them along unwittingly.

Activity 4: LieDog™

Why not take a Christmas Eve stroll around the streets of your local area? Strolls provide marvellous opportunities to demonstrate how little you care, such as this activity which is called LieDog™.

Wander with a cheerful demeanour through the tranquil avenues of your town or suburb, until you encounter somebody out walking their dog.

Offer this person a merry greeting. Then, just as they are in mid-reply, quickly launch yourself at their dog and LIE DOWN ON IT.

Yes, that's it, simply lie face down on the person's dog, squashing the animal onto the ground. And do not move.

Now relax and enjoy the dog-owner's bewilderment and alarm as they first demand you get up and then after some moments of panic try to drag their pet out from under you using the leash. It's very satisfying to declare 'I don't care!' as the hapless walker calls in vain for assistance from equally alarmed passers-by.

TIP: You might imagine that for this activity to succeed, it is vastly if not infinitely preferable to select a SMALL dog rather than a LARGE. However, even lying down on a great big doughy Labrador who shrugs you off and leaves you sprawled on the grass can be an excellent proof to the world of HOW LITTLE YOU CARE.

Activity 5: BabySeek™

This is a wonderful way of NOT CARING ABOUT CHRISTMAS in front of ALL YOUR FRIENDS.

This activity requires a dinner party – ideally a Christmas dinner – with as many people as possible in attendance. The more people, the greater the shamefulness your tasteless behaviour will produce.

Make sure that at least one of the guests has brought their BABY to the party, and has popped it away sleeping and cooing cutely in a quiet room elsewhere in the house. (Obviously for this condition to be met, your group of friends needs to be in the 25-40 age group, or 12-16 if they come from a poor area.)

At an appropriate moment in the evening, slip away with your YULETIDE STEALTH to the room with the baby. Gently grab the baby, and HIDE IT IN THE BOOT OF YOUR CAR.

Return to the table, and very casually ask, 'Where did Sam go?'*

'What do you mean?' Sam's mother will ask.

'Well his pram's empty,' you should tell her, again very casually.

'Did you move him?' she'll ask her husband.

'No,' he’ll say.

Then the mother will get up and go to see if baby Sam is alright. Naturally, she'll discover he's not alright at all, because he's not there.

At this point, sit back and enjoy the gradually rising level of consternation as Sam's parents and then your other friends search the house for the missing infant. Soon the mood of the party will escalate into panic, and within twenty minutes, hysterical horror.

The great thing is – YOU DON'T CARE!

As the dinner guests ransack the house and the men move out into the yard with torches, you may wish to lighten the proceedings with ironic witticisms such as 'It's Christmas, but the baby's not in the manger!'

Inevitably, some responsible person will at some stage decide to ring the police. Immediately before they do so, fetch the baby from your car, clutch it to your breast, and run in wailing, 'Oh my God! I've found him! He's dead!'

Savour the long moment of silence that will greet this proclamation, and especially the hilarious expressions on the faces of Sam's parents.

Then hand the healthy child back to his mother, or to the father if she has fainted, and declare with a hearty laugh, 'Not really, he's fine! I just hid him in my car!'

A second moment of silence usually follows this pronouncement. You should break it by saying, 'Come on, it was pretty funny!'

It is now that you will finally receive your friends' tributes for your efforts to amuse them.

As the baby's father barrages your face with blows of mad grief, simply quip, 'Merry Christmas! I don't care!'

* TIP: If the baby's name is not Sam, you might like to replace the name 'Sam' with the baby's actual name at this point. Otherwise no one will know what you're talking about.

And if YOU'D like to suggest How Not to Care This Christmas®, feel free to submit your suggestions in the comments section below!

Re: [Article]How Not to Care This Christmas - 2005 ed. Mez    December 22nd, 2007 - 4:22 AM     This is brilliant!  Oh ho ho ho!

Re: [Article]How Not to Care This Christmas - 2005 ed. Something Pretentious    December 22nd, 2007 - 5:20 AM I am so glad I read this with an empty bladder!  I particularly like CharityConfusion™