With the exception of spring, fall and summer, winter is by far the best season of all.

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I mean, winter has so much going for it. The arctic winds leave campus more deserted and fun than normal. The shortened days make driving around any time past 4 p.m. an adventure as the legion of cars without headlights on assemble and force you to navigate telepathically. All the smokers retreat indoors, saving you the time, energy and money you would have wasted getting addicted to cigarettes on your own.

So I’m not the biggest fan of winter, but really, how could anyone enjoy it? The only sport that really matters is winding down. Snow loses its novelty after the first time it falls every year, especially when you realize the only fun things to do with it involve hills (which I hear legends of in the east).

I can’t even justify binge drinking with the excuse that, the walking I do from party to party counts as exercise, because the binge drinking just stays in place now. The only possible upside to winter is the increase in opportunities to use puns involving cold and ice, a la Schwarzenegger as Mr. Freeze in ‘Batman and Robin.’

All this complaining and I haven’t even touched on the worst part of winter: the massive, tentacled beast Christmas has become.

I’m not talking about the presents; as an entitled, self-centered 20-something with little regard for the value of money and even less thought into the hollowness of corporate culture, I approve of that. I’m talking about the imagery, the mythology and worst of all, the music.

If my hamfistedly-compiled list didn’t already consist of enough terrible things to make me want to drain all my vital fluids in a most brutal fashion, Christmas music puts it over the top. As a grunt at a campus eatery which pipes that garbage seamlessly for an entire shift most days, I feel qualified to say Christmas music has no redeeming features whatsoever. In fact, the enjoyment of Christmas music seems to coincide with Communist leanings, according to my rigorous scientific studies.

But fear not, as that long-winded and somewhat deranged raving had a purpose! Engineers and mathematicians have been working hand in hand with musicians to make Christmas music that doesn’t make me want to turn to hard drugs. After decades of work that cost billions in taxpayer money and the lives of our greatest scientific minds, a list was compiled.

Five holiday songs that don’t suck are: ‘God Rest Ye Merry Gentlemen’ by Los Straitjackets, ‘F*** Christmas’ by Fear, ‘Gun for Christmas’ by The Vandals, ’15 Feet of Pure White Snow’ by Nick Cave and the Bad Seeds, and the track that deflates this entire column, ‘It’s Cliched to be Cynical at Christmas’ by Half Man Half Biscuit.

Hopefully you will procure these songs through some legal method, but rest assured the ten minutes you spend listening to them will be more enjoyable than if you had been listening to standard holiday fare.

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