1,118 words
Christmas in Costa Rica was its usual low-key affair. What I like most of all is its simplicity. There are Christmas trees in the courtyards and bunting in the store opposite, but none of the materialistic vulgarity I remember from London. Nicest of all are the children’s toys in the shops, dollies for the girls and dinosaurs and trucks for the boys, with plastic farm sets for the little ones. Woke just never made it to Central America, and God knows what monstrosities are on the shelves of the United Kingdom.
I decided to break with tradition and cook — or at least heat — a special meal. I dutifully went out for turkey only to find that they don’t really live here. The only turkey I have seen is in cat food, which reminds me. So I bought a half-kilo of mince to make meatballs, and mince is always a big hit with Missy, the calico cat who adopted me six years ago. In a daring raid, however, she made off with a good deal of it and was discovered under the table, where she goes when she has caught a mouse and doesn’t want me to know. It is not convincing, as a cat, to pretend you have not caught a mouse when there is a tail poking out of your mouth. And then you eat it and are sick. And then Muggins here gets to clear it up. As cat-owners know, dogs have owners while cats have staff.
I worked on my book, wrote a couple of features, and was taken out for a very enjoyable meal by business associates. All in all, Christmas was enjoyable. But there was something missing . . .
I thought back to childhood. Was it the TV programs? I occasionally watch English Christmas specials from the 1970s: Morecambe and Wise, Steptoe and Son, The Two Ronnies, Chas and Dave. But they are all available on YouTube. Obviously it wasn’t toys (although I was worryingly tempted by the farm set), so what was missing? Of course: a Christmas quiz.

You can buy Mark Gullick’s novel Cherub Valley here.
Comics had them, the TV listing magazines had them, every national newspaper had at least a jumbo-sized crossword with 1970s graphics of tinsel and holly around the borders. If you have ever been a sub-editor, incidentally, and have had the misfortune to have to sub a giant crossword, I feel your pain. Sisyphus had it easy by comparison.
So, it concerns me that you might not have a quiz, and therefore I have provided one geared towards the eggheads of Counter-Currents. The format is a simple one. Ten statements follow, all concerned with art and culture. But only one of them is true!
If you Google the answers, you spoil everything and a sense of guilt will follow you for the rest of your days like a puppy-dog tied to a string. And I will know and I will find you and I will spit on your shadow, as the Roma gypsies do to curse someone in the street.
Take your time.
Mull each “fact.”
One from the ten is true, the others fabrication, deception, ruse, subterfuge . . .
And other words that mean naughty lies.
But there are enough outrageously fabricated clues you may recognize to point you in the right direction.
Choose well, my friends . . .
Cast your vote in the comments section. The winners get to fly to Costa Rica, at their own considerable expense, and clean my apartment, which is frankly a disgrace.
* * *
Like all journals of dissident ideas, Counter-Currents depends on the support of readers like you. Help us compete with the censors of the Left and the violent accelerationists of the Right with a donation today. (The easiest way to help is with an e-check donation. All you need is your checkbook.)
For other ways to donate, click here.
