Christmas Truth

Well, ho, ho, ho, it's christmas time, and radio stations everywhere are playing one version or another of every carol ever written pour La Nuit du Noel, and it reminded me that the other night I actually followed a band of carolers around the neighborhood, and as I stood, quite impressed by the music, I also felt that cancerous gnaw in my gut reminding me that they didn't mean a single word of any of it. As proof of this, let it be known that this jew knows the words to every fucking one of them. I've been singing about peace on earth since I can't remember. Haven't seen it yet! And you might as well stick any wishes you have for joy to the world right up your proverbial asses. No, I think that jesu christo has done more to ruin our illusions of hope than stretch pants have done to defray the illusion of the camel toe. There is no longer any mystery, or joy, or silent nights in our interpretation of the message of Year One's Tzaddik ha Dor.

In fact, if one were to use the small sample of people in my current coffee shop, one could infer that the world is more miserable than it has ever previously been, although several grizzled old war veterans that frequent the place have exhibited a genuine outward friendliness. Yet, despite whatever jade I may possess, I do think that they would continue to seek my company even if they knew that I stand against nearly everything they believe they fought for. But sadly, they are the exception to the rule. The remainder, the balance, of the dour-faced, just move drearily along in line, double dipping at the free sample tray, and treat the counter people with the same undiscriminating contempt they hold for those out in the cold. Only in very rare instances does a smile or a thank you cross any of their christian lips.

So, I offer you my wish for this christmas season. I think that god should send us another ambassador, maybe a Bing Crosby lookalike, perhaps some illegitimate issue or aborted fetus, who will live his entire pre-crucifix life shining the joy of the uncorrupted child, and not try to fix this world for the undeserving 'adults'. Perhaps he could deliver a message, letting everyone over the age of 5 know with certainty that there is no fucking paradise, unless you live it...and when you die, the worms and pill bugs will simply devour eyeball and flesh. No virgins waiting in heaven. Barely any here. And perhaps he could demonstrate that 'good', and 'kind', and 'generous' are much grander concepts than we believe. And perhaps he could convince us that 'joy', 'ecstasy', 'love', are not confusing concepts. We can spend our lives wrapped in them, if we would only exit the boxes and walls we build around ourselves.

"And he walked in the desert, for forty days and forty nights, and when he emerged, he walked right past the stonings, beheadings, female circumcisions, child conscriptions, rapes, sucker punches and false haughtiness...right past brazen greed and all the other christmas presents...and walked straight toward the youngest child in the whole world, hugged him and kissed him, and they smiled and giggled together. And as they rolled in the mud, and ate potato chips with extra cholesterol, candy with extra white sugar, hot dogs with extra cow lips, he was heard to say to his friend, 'They worry about everything, are afraid of everything, desire everything, and accumulate everything, yet they cannot see the simplest truth, so eloquently imparted by the holiest of prophets, Bill and Ted. They cannot see that their message is all they need to have what they really want. Be Good to each other'."

And if you have to send a messiah, could you make it a girl?