Merry Christmas, Reader. I hope you’re satisfied with all the fantastic Мишка gifts left under your tree. Or, conversely, I hope you’ve come to terms with why no one got you anything this year.

Christmas is a time for peppermint hot chocolate, wearing sweaters, and listening to Frank Sinatra, and no one knows this better than I, but today, in the spirit of not being too spirited, let us take a look at some of the really shitty parts of Christ’s birthday.

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Beat ‘Em Like Mike
Air Jordans are the best; there’s no question about it. Are they worth dying over? Apparently. This past week Nike released the Jordan Retro XI Concords and people literally killed for them (I’ve always wanted to do that. You say someone literally did something and they actually did do it. Like, you don’t mean it figuratively. Huh. This is great). Sneakerhead-on-sneakerhead violence erupted across the country where, in Atlanta, shoppers broke down the entrance to the mall, leading to multiple arrests, and in San Francisco, gunfire erupted and the sale was eventually shut down.

In Florida, police took a page from the Occupy Wall Street Book of Unethical Behavior and pepper sprayed rioting customers (though, here the pepper spraying  was a bit more justified), while in North Carolina someone was trapped beneath a glass door. The lamest account (and by lame I mean completely senseless because it happened over a pair of Jordans) comes out of Washington DC, where it’s been rumored that an eighteen-year-old kid was murdered over his Concords. That’s been confirmed, spread and then refuted, so who the hell knows? Let’s not get into if it actually happened or not, or the implications of this materialistic, exclusivity-based possible murder, but merely take a moment to appreciate our own Jordan collections.

Last night, on the eve of Christmas, a woman tried to make light of the Concord release, saying, “Did you hear about people shooting each other overs sneakers? Who even brings a gun to the mall?” She didn’t get it.

I told her, “Hey. Stop it. You don’t know about Jordans.”

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True Life: I Am Zelda
In a fascinating unveiling that has absolutely nothing to do with Christmas but because I don’t care I’m going to post it anyway, Nintendo recently published the official Legend of Zelda timeline. Apparently this is something fans have debated for years, and I guess if I think back to fourth grade I can remember being curious about where Oracle of Seasons fit in with Majora’s Mask. Here, it appears that following Ocarina of Time, the timeline splits into two, possibly because of time travel or something.

If you don’t want to watch the above video (for obvious reasons), check out this simplified version of the timeline. If you don’t care at all, then go eat some yogurt.

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Hey There, Sandusky Claus
A few weeks ago I posed the question as to how Santa ever became the mascot for our Lord Jesus Christ’s holy day of birth. I’ll admit, the idea was half-baked (not as funny as it could’ve been). Still, it is a question I am genuinely curious about. I’m snot sure how the association occurred; perhaps it was a story fabricated by a bearded priest after he was caught sneaking into someone’s home. After all, Santa Claus is essentially just a confused robber. He breaks in to your house in the middle of the night, but then, instead of stealing, leaves stuff behind. Eventually the milk and cookies (or scotch and ham sandwich, depending on your tradition) were added to the equation to make St. Nick a little less of a dope. Maybe that’s it (it’s probably not).

Kind of along the same lines, do you get Christmas cards from people? Lame relatives, square co-workers, whoever it may be, you know what I’m talking about: the long letters informing you of all the wonderful things that they and their family have been up to this year. They’re the worst. We usually don’t get them because no one likes my family, but this year some unknowing sucker decided to send us one. As it turns out, this guy is awesome. Obviously I’m quite the pedant myself, but this guy tops even me. Check it:

Seasons Greetings to All. [note the period]

Diane and I enjoy hearing from so many of you at this time of year as we remember friends from across the miles and years. While substantially less immediate and real-time than Facebook or Twitter, it does officially relegate us to senior status but also permits us to appreciate the wonderful blessings of our life. We’ve had another rewarding year in which Diane and I officially entered senescence for our first cruise from Southampton through Kiel Canal and did a reverse pivot of the Baltic via Rostock, Germany, and in the interstices of the trips we welcomes Sebastian Rocksworth – the prototype Amazon.

That’s the intro paragraph. The whole thing is great, but let’s skip to the very end, where it gets real pedantic and unnecessary:

So as not to permit accumulation of miasma on your Thesauri, I will calm your sussuri by telling you my lucubrations continue unabated but assure you there is no cure.

What exactly does that last sentence mean? “So as not to have you chumps rifling through your Thesaurus, I’ll go ahead and tell you that I will continue with my solemn literary work [this letter], but should let you know that there is no cure for my superior intelligence.” In other words, this guy is saying he’s not sorry for being way smarter than everyone else. And you know what? Neither am I. Merry Christmas.

Lamour Supreme

Buff Monster

Nick Gazin

Alex Pardee

Royce Bannon

Skinner

Lamour Supreme

Hello internet friends, and Merry Christmas to all of you! Just knowing you’re out there is a gift enough for me ^__^. Hope you’re having a great time wherever you are! Anyhoo, as usual we have our jet black christmas tree up in the 350 Broadway store.

This year, we enlisted some of our favorite artists to paint a bunch of wonderful and festive Christmas ornaments to decorate that bad boy. Kinda puts other trees to shame don’t it? Check out the lot of them after the jump!

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Farewell, Herman Cain

This year it was my dream that there would be a Republican Presidential Candidate named Thomas Abel, and that the nomination would boil down to a heated race between Abel and Herman Cain, and that when Cain won by a landslide the headlines would read, “Cain Kills Abel!”

Alas, now that dream is gone.

This week Herman Cain dropped out of the 2012 Presidental race to the public’s sarcastic cry of “Oh no!” Comedians everywhere took a blow from the withdrawal, as now a daily source of outstanding material has vanished. For weeks I’ve wanted to write a piece about the man whose campaign anthem was “Big Pimpin’” that would examine (make fun of) all of the greatest Herman Cain videos. There’s the one where he calls Wolf Blitzer “Blitz”, his renaming of Uzbekistan (you know, “Uzbeki-beki-beki-stan-stan”), and of course his immense knowledge of foreign policy and current happenings in Libya, seen above. This might be my favorite Cain clip. It’s a hard choice, but he really just knows nothing about Libya in the video up top. I’m going to miss Herman Cain. He brought this presidential race to life. Well, Cain, along with Michele Bachmann and Rick Perry. In honor of Herman Cain, can I get one last “9-9-9″?

No? Okay.

“December 4th”

I’m weird about music. I only listen to certain things at certain times. Miles Davis‘ Round About Midnight is reserved for December and January when I’m at home, in my car; “April Fools” by Aretha Franklin can only be listened to in April; And anything by Weezer is strictly for when I am between the ages of fourteen and eighteen.

Jay-Z‘s “December 4th” gets the same treatment. I love this song. I love it. It’s one of the best cuts on The Black Album. Be that as it may, I only can listen to it on the actual day of December 4. It’s just a thing I do (a thing called having severe neuroses). Fortunately, today is December 4! I can listen to it today! In fact, I exclusively listen to this song on the fourth. No matter what music I’ve been playing lately, or even if I feel like listening to something else, I can only listen to “December 4th”. So, yeah. If you feel like stepping your neurotic game up, start doing this. I like pickles.

Apply Your Yarmelkes Now

I’m Jewish for two reasons: the jokes and the holidays. I’m not religiously Jewish, just culturally. If there’s room for a Jew joke, I’ll make it; a day off from school for a Jewish holiday, I’ll take it. Ever since moving away from home though, Chanukah has been a real bummer. I can rarely find someone to get me one gift for a cultural holiday I observe out of completely materialistic reasons, let alone eight! This year, I’m not gonna stand for it. This year, I’m gonna do something about it. With that I present to you, my Chanukah list:

1. A massage

I’ve built up a lot of bodily stress this year. I’ve never had a professional massage before, just the shitty ones that your friends who claim they’re “great at giving massages” give. Now, I want a real one. Man or woman, I don’t care. Just someone, please, rub me down.

2. Benihana Cooking Lessons

Did you know these exist? These are actually a thing. Last winter I was at Benihana with my mother, and the wonderful self-promoters they are, they mentioned that these are now available. Let me get there. You’ve read my cooking articles, you know of my expertise in the kitchen. I need these.

3. Jay-Z’s Decoded

I actually want this. The hardcover version. Don’t skimp on me, Reader.

4. Anything Unreleased By J.D. Salinger

Salinger’s my favorite author of all time. Him, and Italo Calvino. And he’s got so much unreleased stuff locked away in his former home, would it be that hard for someone to discreetly break a window and grab a couple manuscripts? Even just one; i’ll take just one. Help me out.

5. A Bunch Of Goat Cheese

Let’s face it, it’s the best cheese.

6. A Cheese Grader

This has nothing to do with the above goat cheese. It just seems like a good thing to have.

7. Big Lurch’s “It’s All Bad” On Vinyl. Or On CD. Or Even Just The Name Big Lurch Written On A Piece Of Paper

No one eats someone like Big Lurch.

8. Anything With Polka Dots

Put it on a button up, or some socks, or jeans. It’s a great pattern.

Well, that’s my list. My goal in posting this is that some of you faithful Bloglin readers will come to my aid and get me Chanukah gifts. After all the hilarious posts I’ve given you this year, do I not deserve that? No, you’re right, I probably don’t. In that case, use this list as a guide if you’re unsure of what to get someone this holiday season. I generally know what people like. I am culture.

This Holiday season, we’re really out to embrace the aphorism that it’s the little things that count. So in that vein, we put extra special care into our accessories line. These are the clutch details that can make or break the swag quotient of your outfit. For your oh-so-precious neck zone, we have the Keep Watch Soccer Scarf. We’re looking to spawn a whole legion of Mishka hooligans, so if you’re interested in that this is the piece for you. For the scarf purists out there, we have the Shackleton Flannel Scarf, the perfect way to throw some color into your life, in Red, Grape, and Aqua.

We were really feeling the plaid, so we took our Marshall plaid pattern and morphed it into the Marshall Plaid Wallet, a bi-fold number in Teal, Storm, and Red. If you want a more evil money receptacle, check out the Death Adders Nylon Wallet. To keep up the pants holding those fresh new wallets, take a look at our Heatseeker Canvas Belt, and for the adventurers out there, the Corn Row Belt. Finally, the piéce de résistance, the High Hiker Rucksack, a perfect utilitarian pack in black, good for all your carrying needs.

It’s Halloween and each year more and more of you guys mail in Мишка inspired jack-o-lanterns! We really appreciate your devotion to the brand and we truly do love seeing each of these pumpkin creations. This year Cyco Simon seems to have been left out of the fun, but the Kill With Power face got plenty of love. And why not? That thing was born to be a jack-o-lantern.

This year we’re gonna treat all of you who spent time craving these with a lil’ sumthin’ sumthin’. So if you guys see your name below shoot us an email to bloglin@mishkanyc.com with your address and size.

Kill With Power by @DenMobKrew

Death Adder by Cameron Whipple

Kill With Power by Chip Newell

Bear Mop by The Grim Creeper

Keep Watch Mini Pumpkin by Enrique Garcia

This was sent in but I’m not really sure if it’s a Мишк-O-Lantern. It’s a Bear of some sort though and it’s by Callum Graham

Keep Watch courtesy of @jzfallows and @EFallows

Death Adder and Cyrillic type by @KaliaAwesome

Keep Watch by @vvlkr

Kill With Power by Steve Krause

Thanks again to all of you who did one of these Мишк-O-Lanterns. We’re looking forward to seeing even more next year. Have a happy rest of your Halloween.

I don’t really have much to write about this, as I am still speechless. I got some good gifts for the holidays, sure. I got a boss custom coffee mug with a finked-out Frankenstein on it from my Secret Santa. That was pretty dope. I also got a stroller/carseat combo, what’s hood now?

But. The Gift. The Gift of the Year. Of the Willenium. My very own Muppet. Of myself. My dear sweet Thang and I were talking about the Muppet workshop at FAO a few months ago, and then I up and forgot all about it. She, however, did not. When I opened this guy up on Christmas I was…totally blown away. Completely. Like, I almost forgot to put a fake mustache on him and have somebody take a picture of us smiling together. That’s how crazy this gift is.

And then, the only thing I could think past that first moment: I wonder if the mini Keep Watch fitted will, um, fit him. So yeah. There it is, up there, for you. A muppetized version of this particular mopster. A muppster. Throw in the fact that my house is currently chock full of miniature versions of shirts that all our friends think I would wear and so naturally so will my baby, and we’re motherfucking Fraggle Rockin’ up in here. Up in here? Up in here.

A perfect end to a hugely long year. Woo.

As if releasing one of 2010 best albums wasn’t already enough, Damon Albarn, Jamie Hewlett and co. are giving away another album for Christmas…well they’re giving it away to Sub-Division members (read: Gorillaz fanclub subscribers). But you guys are all pretty tech savvy and maybe you’re a Sub-Division member, or maybe you’re not? Either way I’m sure you’ll be able to get your hands on Gorillaz’ The Fall.

And if you’re totally inept in the wayz of the interwebz, well The Fall is streaming free on the Gorillaz website when yous ign up to their mailing list, so you can at least listen to it. Be warned though, I don’t think their site is Mozilla/Firefox friendly.

Welcome everyone to Press Start! And a goddamn great holiday season to you. Happy fucking Christmas. I hope all is going well. It’s Christmas Eve, which means several things. First off, Uncle Teddy is praying at the altar that his nieces stop looking so good to him. Secondly, the roads are packed with belligerence and commerce. And thirdly, no one is surfing the fat pipes of the internet. If you work this through, you’ll realize what I’m doing: making an excuse of a column this afternoon. Five things that happened in gaming this week? Sure there’s probably a laundry list. But you’re probably getting fucked up on eggnog and delicious nougats.

Christmas is always a magical period for me. As my parents watched me grow up, they realized that I was never going to grow up and go to Harvard. Or really, even grow up. So as I’ve aged but not grown, I’ve worn my semen stained Biohzard t-shirt and my smiles to every Christmas morning, anticipating one thing: video games. Video games! Every fucking year. I’m twenty-seven, and I can’t recall a time when there wasn’t a game I asked for Jolly Saint Nick to bring me. How about you guys? Do you rock stockings stuffed with mad plumbers, angry gorillas, chicks in hot-ass battle armor? I imagine tomorrow will be quite the same. My eyes glazed over from lasagna and thirty-nine candy canes. Fucked up on sugar and holding a controller of some a sort. And I don’t want it any other way.

So go on, get the fuck out of here. Leave this column. Go find someone to hug. If you can’t find anyone, there’s countless virtual options for your love. Kiss your girlfriend, kiss your boyfriend, kiss your guildmate. It don’t matter. Have a great Christmas, let’s just call this installment a wash and I’ll meet you back here next week.

Terrible title, right? Well, it doesn’t get much better from here.

Me and the Night Slugs decided to strike out on a crisp winter’s evening and take some night shots of some of the houses within my immediate kill zone. My blast radius, if you will. I don’t know what it is about Christmas lights: I at once love the hell out of them but am too ‘smart’ to actually put them on my own house.

Something about the futility of having to really take a good half-a-Saturday at the beginning of December to put them up, and then take another good half-a-Sunday sometime around January 5th to take them down seems….futile to me. That said, I am more than happy to grade the efforts of others, and I am surprisingly (to me, at least) picky about my taste in lights.

Is it just too goddamn obvious that I’m the old guy here, as I bitch about the trials and travails of holiday decorating pressure? I both hope for and against that phenomenon.

Watch, now, as I grade these poor bastards on their illumaesthetic like so many starlets vying for the leathery batwinged style-assassins at US Weekly.

Too blue. LEDs are for flashlights, not merry lights. Please correct this problem ASAP.

Your path lights are ruining the overall effect. C+.

Very very pleasant. The color spots are a nice touch. Kudos to you, sir or madam.

Thank you for making me feel like I live on Angela’s street from My So Called Life. I really mean that. The Bug is a nice touch as well. What’s for dinner?

This, to me, looks like it belongs inside a snowglobe. Bravo to you.

I don’t buy it. But you did.

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