A Real Christmas For Once

As the debate as to what to call that capitalistic orgy that is the “season of giving” rages on, many seem to have overlooked the real meaning behind the celebration of the “holidays” or “Christmas” or whatever the hell those politically correct morons without enough hobbies want it named. Who cares? What at least should be set straight is how to go about celebrating this time of stretched credit. I am what some call a traditionalist, others have called me stickler, and even more have referred to me as an obnoxious asshole. As a result, I would like to see a push to have the old traditions on which the most expensive holiday is based brought back.

Let’s start with one of the oldest traditions. Now, we all know and love the idea of the Twelve days of Christmas. They have been twisted by non-traditionalists to mean ridiculous kinds of bull from the “One true God revealed in the person of Jesus Christ” up to the “twelve points of doctrine in the Apostle’s Creed.” Utter blasphemy, I say. We all know deep down that those 12 days should not be spent thinking about a religion only 2000 years old! Search your soul and you will find that you are turning your back on Marduk, the Babylonian sun god, who would take the 12 days before the winter solstice to battle with the monsters of chaos. And the last thing you want to do is turn your back on a sun god. Forget these stupid thoughts about Jesus and the silly songs about pear trees and let’s do it the way it was done in 4000BC: your king or head of state should be taken to a temple for 12 days and a criminal in his clothing should be sacrificed so that the symbolic death of your president will appease Marduk, son of Ea, slayer of Tiamat and bringer of Stimutacs.

Next, lets spare a thought to our friends the Romans. The Romans decked their halls with garlands of laurel and green trees lit with candles. No pretty electric lights in those days. So get rid of these ridiculous lights and doohickeys and break out the trees with candles and let’s start getting wasted on wine and fighting our slaves to appease Saturn.

Think there were a bunch of fir trees around that manger where the namesake of so many migrant workers was born? Of course not; the Middle East is not known for its forests. So, why have the bloody things and why stick presents under them? Well I say we do it the way the ancient German druids did it: go out into the forest and use the gifts of nature (the magic mushrooms) that grow under fir trees to get really messed up and commune with nature. That’s sure as hell what I’m going to do.

And that fat, jolly guy in the red? Well, Sinterklaas should be living in Spain, and filling our shoes with apples and nuts on December 6th, not the 25th. And instead of a lump of coal being packed in Santa’s bag by elves, I firmly believe that Black Pieten (Sinterklaas’ evil, black midget) will come and put naughty children into a sack and take them away to god knows where.

And while we’re at it, we should scrap the whole name “Christmas” totally. The bible clearly points to Jesus’ birth being around the beginning of June, so let the Christians have a day off in June that doesn’t conflict with Flag Day and let the rest of us celebrate the winter solstice by getting drunk, beating our servants, and doing hallucinogenic drugs in the forest.

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Mr. Idaho is the Managing Director of Lush For Life. When he's not running the business and writing, he enjoys playing golf at St. Andrew's in Scotland, and supervising the development of his family's winery, "Dread God Vineyards", in South Africa. During the summer months, he resides on board his luxurious full-sized yacht off the coast of Hong Kong, snorting cocaine off the breasts of $10,000 female escorts while further developing his off-shore contacts with Japanese and Chinese businessmen.

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