I’ve never been much of a holiday person. I find they interrupt all sane and worthwhile endeavors with unwarranted obligations, anxieties and tensions. It begins with Halloween as the first hint of Christmas carols waft through the air, ushering in a special day where children are taught fear and a sense of the macabre. The festivities continue, moving right along to Thanksgiving where from a very young age, we’re taught gluttony in celebration of the white man double-crossing America’s indigenous peoples (as if that was actually something for which to be thankful or proud.) Thanksgiving is followed by the high holy days of Black Friday, Small Business Saturday and Cyber-Sunday, which launches a month long period of unexplainable madness and anticipation for the arrival of Christmas and the culmination of the mother of all mortal sensations: GREED.
New Year’s Eve and New Year’s Day are set aside for tomorrow’s broken promises and an artificial sense of renewal that ultimately leads to disappointment and failure, especially for weight watchers and anyone trying to give up smoking. If you’re not miserable and ready to slash your ankles by the end of the holiday season, then there’s always Valentines Day to look forward to. By St Patrick’s Day if you haven’t started drinking then you’re a stronger man than me. I’m not a holiday person.
Unfortunately there’s no escaping the holidays, especially the Christmas holidays. Year after year my senses are assaulted with irritating and repetitious Yuletide music, and the air filled with forced frivolity. Supposedly we’re all celebrating an alleged virgin birth that took place over two thousand years ago. As to how the Blessed Virgin was documented as being pregnant while “intact” has never been fully explained to my satisfaction. All we hear is “The Angel of the Lord did come down upon her.” That’s a bit vague to my ear. Did the good woman go knocking door to door parting her thighs to show the town elders her intact hymen and swelling belly? Or are we expected to just go along with this fable on “faith” as if it really happened? As far as I’m concerned, the only virgin births are artificially inseminated lesbians and certain species of reptiles, like Komodo dragons for instance. Are we expected to then draw the conclusion that the mother of the Prince of Peace was either an artificially inseminated lesbian or a lizard? Or maybe both? Historically more wars have been waged in the name of the Prince of Peace than any other single named cause. A disappointing legacy for an historical figure who otherwise seems to have been gentle and benign. Well, except for that nasty outburst where he upended the merchant’s tables in front of the houses of worship ruining all the pre-Christmas sales. So in His honor of His birthday we celebrate with gigantic retail sales and endless, obnoxious advertising.
We hear a lot about the “war on Christmas,” and the “war on religion,” but we never stop to take into account the war on people who’d simply like to be spared this entire cycle of madness and live in peace and harmony without having other people’s illogical mythology slammed down our throats. But there’s no escaping it. Christmas is here to stay along with all other competing religious holidays from diametrically opposed faiths, most of whom are faithfully committed to slaughtering each other in the name of peace. The human animal is violent and superstitious by nature. Perhaps we inherited it from our reptilian ancestors. But according to the “Creationists,” there was a time when man and dinosaur lived together in harmony. Now there’s a whopper that makes the virgin birth almost seem plausible.
This is going to be a long, long holiday season. As for me, I don’t want any Christmas presents. Not that I’ll be getting any, but if anyone out there is considering giving me something, give it to the victims of Hurricane Sandy or some other worthwhile cause and leave me out of it. The only part of Christmas I like, is an annual Christmas dinner with old friends where we’ve called a truce on gift giving and concentrate on good food and camaraderie. Once the holidaze over, we’re pretty much in the clear until the annual dying of spring dinosaur eggs which is celebrated with bunny rabbits in honor of executing people for believing in peace. Confused yet?