Mrs Speech tells me, that growing up in America, it was their tradition to bake Christmas cookies in the lead up to the Big Day.

For the record, we call them biscuits. Over here biscuits are cookies. You don't soak them in gravy and if you put them with your roast beef it'd be a strange combination. Biscuits are cookies and cookies...are smaller, round things with little chips in 'em I guess.

But, Christmas cookies are what Mrs Speech likes. She usually makes them sugar-cookie-style (like Gangnam Style, only better) but this year she decided to chocolate them up and whack on some leftover chocolate icing mix.

We never did anything like this when I was growing up. We never really had those kinds of traditions. Our tradition, growing up in Adelaide, was to get out of the 40°/110° heat. Later, when I was comin' up in Brisbane, the tradition was to get out of the 33°/100° heat and melt-you-where-you-stand humidity.

Christmas traditions in Australia are slowly disappearing, you know, like how you read twice a year on CNN that unless someone does something, fourteen languages will disappear in the next year? It's like that. I was walking back home through our unit complex the other day and I saw a wreath. A really nice wreath, too. But then I thought, I don't think there's another one in the walk down to our place. We have one up.

You'd pass sixteen units and not see another one. There was a time when you'd see tons of them. And lots of Christmas tree lights in windows.

Man this is turning into a depressing post. I don't wanna do that to you.

We LOVE Christmas in our household. So we do traditions. We're going through them in this How We Do Christmas series, but so far this is what we've traditioned for the holiday season:

• Putting up the tree (everyone does this...)
• Christmas present shopping (everyone does this, too, mainly)
• Going to the lighting of the tree (not sure for how much longer)
• Buying a bauble for our tree that same night
• Going to the Twilight Markets/Christmas Parade (just started)
• Watching It's a Wonderful Life on Christmas Eve ("Merry Christmas y'old Building 'n Loan")
• Reading the Christmas Story from Luke 2:1 to Luke 2:20 (we do this before opening presents)
• Watching Ben Hur Christmas Day (after lunch...when I fall asleep fifteen minutes in...it's the best Christmas movie ever, though)

Traditions are important, in my humble opinion. They bind us to our past and guarantee that we don't forget what is important. And in our five minute culture I want to be bound to the notion that Christmas is not transient, is not of diminishing importance.

That it's a day that has been honoured by billions of people who've come and gone under the reign of the king, for two thousand and twelve years (and counting...regardless of what the Mayans say).

So we hold on to our little quaint practices, of wreaths and Christmas movies, because we love the season, we love the Saviour, and we love our Christmas cookies.

So, anyway, as I said, we're doing a thing on how we do Christmas. By now, you've obviously read Part One - Present Security.

One of the traditions we have tried to begin over the past couple years is kicking off the Christmas season by attending the lighting of the monster Christmas tree (solar-powered!) in King George Square, in the city.

This year we totally made a day of it. We had to mail off some Jesse Tree Ornaments, and when we took care of that, we spent the rest of the afternoon walking around looking for Christmas present ideas and soaking in the summer sun, waiting for dusk when the lighting of the tree ceremony would begin.

So herein is a blow-by-blow account from both my and Mrs Speech's perspectives of the day:

Remember when I wrote about retail here in Australia and how the brick and mortars get it so wrong?

You probably don't. That's okay. You can stay anyway.

In my excoriation of the Aussie shopping experience, I forgot to mention how bad we are at online retail too.

One of the country's biggest electrical stores Harvey Norman has as of this year, only been posting about fifty or sixty thousand a day in sales online.

Which is, to hear Gerry Harvey whingeing about it, only about 1% of their total sales.


Well, there are big profound reasons why Harvey Norman only does about a piddling amount online.



They're the same reasons that Click Frenzy, whose site I couldn't even link to two days ago because it caused a redirect loop, failed so dramatically.

Click Frenzy was supposed to be like the US Cyber Monday, except where Cyber Monday follows a logical progression begun with Thanksgiving and Black Friday, Click Frenzy was just...there. In the middle of November. Like your shorts hanging in the wind on your clothes line. Nice shorts, by the way.

It was a thinly totally not veiled attempt to grab some of the dollars going to the US for Cyber Monday which is of course two days from now.

Remember earlier this year, when the North Koreans announced loudly that they were testing a huge rocket, even allowed the western press in to cover the event, and when they hurled the thing to the sky it lasted about a minute, broke into confetti and rained down on the ocean? Happy couples everywhere sighed at the missed opportunity of being showered with Taepodong-2 missile.

That's what Click Frenzy was. Except if you throw in a bunch of major (and minor) retailers lasso'd together for a sale. Massive discounts, the site screamed. 40 - 60% off!

Gerry Harvey, you retail knick-knack.

Seriously though, in the interest of being fair, let's talk about what Click Frenzy got right. Okay, done.

The main item of complaint was that no-one could access it. More than a million people logged on to the Click Frenzy site, at which you could find all the 'deals' (more on that later) and then tried to click to the individual retailers' sites to buy.

The site shut down, whimpering about all the stress while hiding in the corner of a splashy banner which said, 'Wow! We're breaking all kinds of barriers here!' as if I cared about how many people were logged on at the same time. I wanted my kitchen knives.

The same was true of the retailer sites except without the inane spin. Myer just kept trying to access and then told me its server was full. Same with anyone else you'd buy from, selling things you'd care about.



It was in the back of my mind, that this thing seemed a bit unrealistic. We have two major, major sales in Australia - Boxing Day through early January and middle of the year - and two smaller ones around March and October. Everything else is ad-libbed at the whim of the retailer.

So when they plop a massive new sale on our doorstep like this it seems apparent that it's a bit of a cash-grab. Which it was. The sales weren't genuine. A genuine sale is when iTunes cards are discounted. A disingenuous sale is when Kathmandu backpacks are 'slashed' from $399.99 to $299.99. I hope they didn't hurt the Kathmandu backpacks when they slashed them.

These are not in-demand items.

Myer had about fifty items on sale. Such selective discounting generally means that they're trying to get rid of old stock, or things people don't want, or both.

It has also been pointed out ad infinitum that many of the 'discounted' items can be sourced at similar prices on a daily basis, from sites like Amazon.

This was not a serious sale.

It was cynical and obvious and it failed. And a lot of people spent their time refreshing and refreshing and refreshing only to keep looking at their watch.

And now it's posited that the whole thing was just an information grab - everyone participating was told beforehand to register; I'm still not sure why. But they did get more than a million e-mail addresses. That's big business. They're worth a stack of money.

Never mind that the 'businessman' who headed the whole thing up, has an oeuvre of stinky rotten fish about him. If you read that link, you can just feel the conman oozing out of the page like a well-developed pimple gone awry.



Arnott says they'll be doing this whole scam sale thing again next year. Sounds positively buoyant about it.

All I know is that more and more Australian dollars will go overseas - particularly to the US, where they know how to professionally do retail. Clowns and Cowboys need not apply.

I mean, if Australian businesses can't get the job done, then Neiman Marcus and a strong Aussie dollar will.

But not Best Buy, who actively discourage international business.

Bit like the effect Click Frenzy had on Australians. They won't return for next year's debacle.

I want to tell you something...I don't know you, but I'm going to tell you anyway.

I'm losing my hair.

Have been for years now. A steady creep has left some sizeable bare paddock up the top end, if you know what I mean. A Widow's Peak has become some ruffles of hair hanging on to the mountaintop for dear life.

But...here's the problem. Please hold on, I need-- I need a tissue. Okay, I think I'm alright.

Here's the problem: it's affecting my confidence. It is. My confidence is-- is-- I can't say it.

Going?

Now, losing my confidence is a terrible thing. My confidence, man...it used to allow me to get out of the pool with the sexy woman in the one-piece looking on at my rippled abs. My confidence used to allow me to walk down the street with my work colleagues, all of us sharply attired in suits, and look back at the hot woman who just passed us, giving me a sensual glance.

My confidence-- it's abandoning me, jumping this Titanic like so many soggy rats.

What will I do without my confidence?



There's been this trend, the last few years, with Australian TV. All these baldness cures have exploded, and so have the ads which encourage people to buy them. And they all use the word, 'confidence', which apparently is in such short supply that it might soon be publicly traded.

There's Ashley & Martin where the guy in the white lab coat (he says he's not a doctor, so that's pretty shady) stands in front of a bunch of digital graphs and every time text appears, each letter appears with a beep
or boop sound.

Makes it all seem sciencey and serious right?

Because I used to think they'd just toss the hair of a young man into a cauldron, say a few spells and that's how they'd get your hair to grow back.

There's a couple like that. They go down in sincerity (and up in frivolity) 'til you arrive at the storied depths of Leimo which sounds so much like Lame-o that it just makes me smile.

Leimo is THE ULTIMATE HAIR RE-GROWTH SOLUTION!! ONLY $79.99 AND IF YOU'RE NOT SATISFIED WITHIN ONE MONTH THAT LEIMO IS THE ULTIMATE HAIR RE-GROWTH SOLUTION THEN SIMPLY RETURN THE PRODUCT FOR A FULL REFUND!!

Even if I were to dabble in witchcraft (the Leimo ad had no digital graphs or beep, boop sounds), I wouldn't waste the effort it would take to visit their website.



Then there's this other ad. Sam Willoughby, who's a BMX rider I had never heard of before seeing his commercial on TV, has a problem. He has acne. Well, had acne.

I immediately found myself developing a bond with Sam...you see, he-- he's had problems with losing his confidence too. He told me that when he got acne, it affected his racing. I can totally see how that would happen.

Men, when your confidence leaves you, you gotta understand how crushing it is. I can barely spoon my cornflakes some days.

Sam's issues ultimately have been dealt with and I pray that he never again has to deal with losing his confidence.

Now let's be real here for a minute. Let me just say this one thing:

Fellas, have you been so wussified that you'll fall for this 'confidence' nonsense? Have you totally abandoned the thought of being a man? What is all the metrosexual garbage still doing on our TV? What men have been so emotionally castrated that they fall for this junk and hand over their money to charlatans like these???

They couldn't even be bothered coming up with a name that didn't sound like LAME-O, for crying out loud!

I get that commercials are there solely to rip you off with stuff you don't need that never lives up to expectations. Cynicism 1, Naivety 0. Got it. The Big Mac never looks like on the ad. Caveat emptor.

(Brief side note: I am a retail mercenary. I will go into a store and bargain myself down to the best possible price wherever I can. Then I'll use that and do the same with the next store to see if they'll beat store #1's prices. And so on. They're ruthless. So am I. Side note over.)

But let's not abandon our dignity so much that we'll fall for the nearest guy on the street corner selling us junk we don't need at prices we can't afford. I mean, put your pants on and go to the doctor first, for goodness sake. I'm sure you would, I'm talking to the guy behind you.



There's a tedious pseudo-sermon on how men are being transformed slowly into women, but we won't do that now. Just know that it's manly to care about your appearance, it's not manly to worry about exfoliating your skin. There's a difference.

Mrs Speech is feminine, I'm masculine. We appreciate each other that way and the way that God made us. Individual and unique.

What really rubs my fur coat the wrong way is the people on TV shamelessly promote trash using shameless methods. See that video, at the top? Sam actually has a straight face. I'm not sure how he does it. Someone in the comments of that video said he made eighty thousand for that campaign. Maybe that's how he does it.

Men, your confidence is NOT tied to this rubbish! You can't possibly lose a race because of acne. See past the drivel and get on with your life. If need be, get over your hair loss, or acne, and focus on the important stuff.

I'm losing my hair, sure...okay. But my confidence exists independent of my 'hair loss condition.' Know why?

I have a cap.

When I grew up we had a clacky TV. I Can still see it now: a brown wood-panelled ugly dog of a machine, with a bubble screen that made it look bloated from endless Happy days reruns.

And there was no remote. My goodness, no. Might as well ask for a smartphone back then. This was the mid-eighties. You had to actually get up off the chocolate brown cotton weave couch and change the channel yourself.

The buttons made a clack sound. Clack. Josie and the Pussycats. Clack. He-Man. Clack. Scooby Doo. Saturday Morning was clacks and Coco Pops.

I grew up in that era, where TV was the gathering point for our house, the watering hole of outside interaction and how many questions could we get right on Sale of the Century?

I was a fan of Tony Barber, but he always seemed a bit smirky.



We have five main channels here: ABC, Seven, SBS, Nine and Ten. Each station owns one or more other stations which seem to be primarily for showing endless repeats of 'classic' shows (The Love Boat, anyone? Charmed? Dr Quinn, Medicine Woman?), bizarre guy shows (Coal, Ice Road Truckers, Megastructure Demolition) or in the case of Channel Nine and the Olympics, the exact same content on both channels.

Channel Ten owns Eleven and One. One was created for the very valid purpose of providing sports content all day, every day. Its content was however last year 'rededicated' to shows like Bondi Rescue, Get Smart and M*A*S*H.

There are also infomercial stations broadcasting 'shows' like Oreck Air Purifier (my favourite!) and Ninja Knife Cutter (ooooh...Mrs Speech could use that for Christmas. All sewn up).

Channels Nine and Ten are in huge financial difficulties. The private equity firm, CVC, which bought Nine a while back, handed over almost $1.5bn for it, also purchasing $3.6bn in debt. The further two billion dollars they pumped into it is also gone.

Channel Ten's ratings are so poor they might as well start showing the Ninja Knife Cutter. After all, it slices and dices.



The main problem, at least on the surface, is the turgid lineup of prime-time programming, which of course is the time-slot where the numbers come from - both ratings and ratings' cousin, advertising dollars.

I haven't witnessed a disinterest quotient this high since Brisbane City Council introduced bikes for rent in the city.

The problem - and I know Mrs Speech will want to weigh in on this - is that prime-time content seems to be either a) US shows 'fast-tracked' (more on that later) ie Big Bang Theory, Two and a Half Men, that odd new self-serving Matt LeBlanc show, etc...or locally-produced shows which utilise trends discarded years ago.

People will think what they will about the American shows; most of them aren't to my taste. I've been meaning to delve into Breaking Bad and Mad Men, though.

But the Aussie ones are worse. They're mainly reality TV shows which draw on an ever-descending spiral of the concept of derivation.

That is, each year they're paler and paler copies of shows from the year before.

These are Channel Nine and Channel Ten's major locally-produced shows for this year:

• Being Lara Bingle (let's follow around a third-tier celebrity!)
• Can of Worms (panel discussion - things like, 'if you could have one superpower, what would it be?'...I kid you not)
• The Shire (compared by many to Jersey Shore)
• Everybody Dance Now (post-Olympic dance competition which, though massively hyped, failed spectacularly)
• Don't Tell The Bride (what would happen if the groom was allowed to plan the wedding?)
• Big Brother (grinding my teeth)

People refuse to watch these tv shows. Personally I'd watch...well, anything really. SBS shows the news from various countries. I'd listen to the Cyrillic intonations of Macedonian news before causing my brain to contract by tuning in to Can of Worms.



Aussie programming has always been reasonably derivative. The Price is Right, Jeopardy, Wheel of Fortune...Seven shamelessly copied Neighbours with its summer lovin' Home and Away. Those kids and their surf-related angst issues.

But the lack of originality alone is not imploding the major networks. A funny thing happened to Australian TV over the last five years.

It really, got lost in a back alley off a dark city street one night with rain falling heavy upon the well-worn concrete...and was mugged by the internet.

People wanted what they considered (and read, was) quality programming and stopped waiting for it from the US. Ten may fast-track Homeland within a week or two, but it's available on the internet within hours of being shown in the States.

A recent case involving the second largest internet provider in the country, highlighted this problem.

In 2008 iiNet was sued by the Australian Federation Against Copyright Theft (AFACT, on behalf of Channel Seven and many major international film distributors) alleging that iiNet had a responsibility to ensure its customers did not download content via BitTorrent. A judge in 2010 ruled in favour of iiNet and then earlier this year the High Court threw the case out.

The point is, people want their content NOW. And will watch it on a laptop, instead of a 42 inch screen if they have to. This is happening a lot.

Fewer people watching their favourite shows on television means less advertising money.

Poor local content means fewer people watching television too.

Both issues affect TV's bottom line. Ironically, the lack of advertising money is probably significantly affecting Aussie stations' capital outlay on new shows. Which then tend to be poor. And which people don't watch. It's like the chicken and the egg.



So what now? Who knows.

Seems reasonably clear that content is moving online. Smart TVs now can access the internet, albeit under the constraints of the manufacturer's frontend software. I can plug my laptop into our TV if I feel like buying a long HDMI cable.

The crossover is really, taking shape. Don your silver jumpsuits, and all that. Tron will soon be here.

You can also watch on your phone too. You already knew that. Seriously, when the programming on your digital TV is so...analogue...why would you bother? The market has already proved itself aggressive enough to choose what it wants, when it wants. If the networks don't actively seek to catch up, they'll become about as relevant as CDs, which were essentialy relegated to the status of artifacts as soon as the internet realised that a four megabyte file could be downloaded in anyone's bedroom.

There's a blog post somewhere in the deintegration of the Australian home. Dinner in the fifties was around the table. Dinner in the eighties was in front of the TV. Dinner now can be wherever your laptop is; families have more than one computer.

The gathering point for your house, the watering hole of outside interaction, can be wherever you want it to be. It's fluid. It's not stationary. Don't try to fight it. The tube as we know it is dying, in this country.

Some days I bloody miss that clacky television.