The title of this post pretty much says it all, so there’s actually no point in continuing with this miserable monkey-motion. All people who still possess functional brainstems know full well what’s wrong with the Christmas thing, at least as far as it concerns its appallingly empty modern-day permutation. My overwrought, semi-misinformed opinions and bloviated generalizations have nothing to offer, in any sense of the word; but, as is the case with the millions of other unimaginative morons and deep-seated cynics and purveyors of sheer inexplicable bullshit out there -- in other words, the great bulk of all the yahoos in blog land -- being a half-baked ignoramus with nothing polite to say about anything is no reason to keep your trap shut. So, here we are.
Now that I think about it, I’m fairly well sick of my own particular brand of viscous negativity, as I’m sure everybody is. I’ll leave it to the following quotes to place this “holiday season” in its proper context, from historical thinkers a whole hell of a lot smarter, skeptical, and cynical than I could ever hope to be ...
I am sorry to have to introduce the subject of Christmas ... It is an indecent subject; a cruel, gluttonous subject; a wicked, cadging, lying, filthy, blasphemous, and demoralizing subject. Christmas is forced on a reluctant and disgusted nation by the shopkeepers and the press: on its own merits it would wither and shrivel in the fiery breath of universal hatred; and anyone who looked back to it would be turned into a pillar of greasy sausages.
--George Bernard Shaw, Our Theatres in the Nineties, Volume 3
January 1, 1898
Yeah, that’s a good one. Then there’s this:
Or consider Christmas -- could Satan in his most malignant mood have devised a worse combination of graft plus buncombe than the system whereby several hundred million people get a billion or so gifts for which they have no use, and some thousands of shop-clerks die of exhaustion while selling them and every other child in the western world is made ill from overeating -- all in the name of the lowly Jesus?
--Upton Sinclair, Money Writes!, 1927
Merry flippin’ Christmas.