I bow down before those who write a lot every day. I’m not inclined to write that much right now, because it is Christmas, and it’s time to have a good time.
Every year around this time a few soreheads, or killjoys or general all-around assholes, like to say Christmas isn’t real, it was invented in the 19th century, partly by the Coca Cola company and partly by Jewish department store owners, that it was only a few drunk yahoos partying until then.
But if it was- so fucking what? Yuletide is an ancient custom of the northern peoples, and if many want to add a Christian religious celebration to it as well, that’s great, the more the merrier. But mainly it’s a matter of light, and heat. Or the serious lack of these things.
Long ago somebody realized, “Hey, every year this time it gets really fucking dark. And really fucking cold. And it’s depressing as fuck. Let’s get out some of that booze we have stored up, or a lot of that booze we have stored up, and slaughter that last pig, and have the womenfolk start baking the flour and butter we have stored up, and eat and drink ourselves into a stupor. Then we won’t even care how fucking dark and fucking cold it is.”
And they enjoyed themselves so much they did it again the next year, and the next year, and the year after that, until it became what is called a “tradition”. Consuming more food and alcohol than is good for you is fun, but only if done on occasion and with a good excuse.
Many tasty things await me, so I will go to them, and leave you to your own feasting. To the pagans, I wish you God Jul. To the Christians, I wish you a Merry Christmas. To everybody else- the pagans and Christians are all feasting, so you may as well knock off and do the same.