I had hoped to put up another non-Christmas post before I flew off to Newcastle. But Christmas is so omnipresent at this time of year that it's almost impossible not to talk about something related to it. Like the hideous science-fictional blob that keeps appearing in films that may or may not be named 'The Blob', Christmas has turned into a vast, formless, all-devouring entity that, er, devours all. It's even slipped into the simplest conversations with the random Man/Woman/Non-Gender-Specific Person On The Street, who you should know better than to have conversations with anyway.
- Funny weather for this time of year!
- Yes, I think it'll cool down for Christmas, though.
- It's so busy in Melbourne at Christmas.
- Yes, Christmas is a busy time of the Christmas.
- Are you trying to tell me something, Christmas-head?
- Shove it up your Christmas!
- Hey, Christmas you!
You get the idea. I'm having these conversations all the time.
I was noodling around on Facebook, getting into a debate with Benito about how much of Christmas was pagan and how much was Christian, and bumped into a Christian who didn't celebrate Christmas. (Oliver Cromwell would be proud, I thought.) He was so magnanimous and so compassionate that he appeared to feel responsibility, as a Christian, for all the sins of the crusaders, the inquisition, and various other sins committed in the name of Christianity. That's quite a stock of personal sinning he built up there - I wondered if he was planning to apologise for every individual offence that happened, and on behalf of all his other Christians? (Kevin Rudd would be proud, too. Or maybe ashamed. Or maybe proud of being ashamed. Or ashamed of being proud. Or... etc.)*
Christmas, hey? It's so... Christmassy. Have a very merrily Christmassy Christmas, everyone!
*In case you're reading, hey JM. I'm sure there's more to your views than that, but you sure did sound odd when you said 'as a Christian I do not celebrate Christmas' in Benito's Saturnalia forum post. Me, I'm just a sucker for Christmas pudding and fruit mince pies.
Tim, your links stink, you fink!
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- The briefs...
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