I went to the Radio City Christmas Spectacular, which, A) wasn’t all that spectacular and, B) was topped off by the so-awful-I blocked-its-existence-from-my-memory living nativity, where people in the audience took flash pictures as if it was the real thing, and a brief but insanely glossy edition of the story of Christ rolled over it in projection (you know, minus the millions killed in his name, and etc.). The payoff came when I exited the building along with throngs of tourists and families to enter the subway station, where, at the entrance, were two of possibly the hottest boys I have ever seen in my life making out at the top of the stairs. So now I know that prayers are answered.
Merry Christmas, all!