how special to sit here in their company and suddenly, barely one week into November, to be treated to the premiere of John Lewis's bloody Christmas advert.
and before it even begins, I know exactly what to expect from it...
in fitting with the standard Christmas advertisement formula, the rules dictate that we must have a rather twee and whimsical female voice trotting out a cover version in a rather twee and whimsical style.
we've already had Ellie Goulding selling her soul to cover Elton John and gain herself unrivalled access to Royal shindigs and recent years have seen The Smiths and Frankie Goes to Hollywood surely secured a few extra quid in their pockets after the same saccharine fate befell each of them in the extended advent season.
Surely Lily Allen (or at least her shrewd management team) have spotted this trend and jumped on the prematurely departing bandwagon, arriving just ahead of the brightly lit Coca-Cola lorry that is bound to be with us any minute now, and don't be surprised if a Keane greatest hits finds its way in amongst your stocking fillers alongside Morrissey's autobiography, otherwise the combined might of these Naughties stars has been squandered.
Frankly, I'm sick of the usual tricks trotted out by the usual suspects... a snow flurry and a cover version gift wrapped in a female vocal and a quick tug on the heart strings, chuck in some mince pies with a pre-December 'use by' date and our modern, expertly marketed christmas is complete.
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