What Would Jesus Put On His Gold Card?
One special Christ-Mess, long ago, Cheap Dude was fresh out of bogus drug rehab. (Caught smoking pot, he had been ordered to an alcohol-rehab class taught by an ex-meth addict who still drank.)
Being Christ-Mess, Cheap Dude felt more like punching a baby than usual, preferably the Baby Jesus. He kept silent at most Grandiose Ex-Drunk meetings, but this time he whined like a spoiled brat about how difficult “the holidays” are when sober. Boo hoo.
After the meeting, a bushy-haired wild-eyed fellow “sobriety” victim pulled Cheap Dude aside. “Hey dude, participation isn’t mandatory--Skip Christ-Mess!”
Wow! Words like golden light from Above, shone on the greed, hypocrisy, and cheap plastic crap that obliterated rather than celebrated the Diety who preached Voluntary Poverty.
Skip Christ-Mess? Yes, he would, by Gods. No more insincere cards, no more thoughtless cheap gifts, no more frenetic debt sprees for insatiable sacrilege. A few people would get their feelings hurt, but they would get over it. Skip Christ-Mess indeed! It warmed his heart.
From then on X-Mess was his favorite time of year, for he simply ignored it completely. (He replaced Christ with X since he’d never seen much Christ in it anyhow.) And he lived angrily, and happily, ever after.
So--From Our House to Yours This Annoying Season: Skip X-Mess!
Buy Nothing, and Save!
%$#@!
(Truth be told, Wild Man’s two word holiday blessing included an oft-shocking word. A word that makes some folks cringe or blush. A word you hope your toddler doesn’t hear then repeat at inappropriate moments.
Start with your upper teeth on your lower lip, and blow softly out. Complete the word, rhyming it with buck, duck, luck, muck, puck, and tuck.
If you are feeling bold, or hateful towards X-mess, say the mantra out loud in front of whoever’s around. You will witness the power of language. The hard K sounds run together then the double hiss, BAM! Hearers may twitch and fret. Good harmless fun if you have an evil streak. And liberating if, like Oscar the Grouch, you hate It.)
%$#@!
The only real fun of the yearly Holy Day Blasphemy is watching retailers' desperate attempts to connect their products to it, no matter how un-holy. That, and watching all the animals fight and fall over each other to be the first to buy.
In closing, an ad commentary, sort of like Harper's deconstructions:
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