Six in all, the pieces are a mix of essays and short stories. The short stories include baby murder and intentional self-dismemberment.
The essays are not quite as disturbing, but still not what I would call funny. Even Santaland, which is one of the author's most famous pieces, was never one of my favorites. But most people find that one fall down funny. I don't get it.
Maybe I don't get it because I can't join the Christmas -is-the-most-depressing-time-of-year mentality. I mean, it's not like my favorite time of year, but I think we've all become a little too dramatic about how depressing we think the holidays are.
I'm starting to think I'm a freak just because I can accept the holidays as another day, and I don't spend the rest of the year either dreading them, plotting against them, or harassing people who say Happy Holidays as opposed to Merry Christmas. Times are weird.