I just spent an entire evening with a person who drives a hybrid Lexus. I am not in a good mood.
I have refrained from vulgarity in this blog so far (well, more or less). Well, I have just about had it this Christmas, and maybe I've been reading too much Rachel Lucas (though, to be honest, there can be no such thing), but the gloves are coming off right now. I apologize in advance for offending your sensibilities.
So, have you spoken out about how commercial Christmas has been getting lately? Have you commiserated with friends over the loss of the true meaning of Christmas? Have you rolled your eyes at all the advertisements and looked reproachfully at the people standing in line for hours at the stores? Have you written a letter to the local paper, advising us to remember that the season is about love, not gifts? Perhaps even suggested doing away with presents entirely, or giving them to charity instead?
If so, I'd like you to do something for me. Look around your house for something Christmasy, but not too commercial. Something really true to the genuine spirit of the season. A pine cone, a candy cane, an ornament, a cross, a little Baby Jesus figurine, whatever you see fit. Anything works, as long as it's pointy. Now, what I'd like for you to do is, I want you to take that object, and I'd like you to please SHOVE IT UP YOUR BUTT, YOU ANNOYING RETARD.
I swear to God, the next time I hear someone, full of smug, holier-than-thou condescension, complaining about the commercialization of Christmas, I will take their I-Pod (because you just know they have an I-Pod) and I will shove it so far down their throat they'll be crapping cute little earbuds into the new year. You do not even want to know what I'd like to do to this guy (hint: it involves a razor-sharp credit card, and his nipples).
I think I finally snapped when my local paper's idiot cartoonist drew Santa's sleigh with a Visa logo on it. How awfully clever! How subversive! How original! Hey, local cartoonist: GO FUCK YOURSELF.
Folks, you know what? WE GET IT. WE KNOW. Christmas is not about presents. It's about Jesus, and being with family and loved ones, and about love and kindness and all sorts of other wonderful, non-commercial things. But there is nothing wrong with giving people presents. IT'S NICE. You are not being a pawn of the capitalist system if you give someone a Macy's gift card; if you think so, I'm very sorry to say, but you are an annoying killjoy dumbass. EVERYBODY KNOWS being with those you love is the most important thing. But, if you can afford it, giving people stuff is also - I loathe to repeat myself - nice. I really enjoy buying presents for the people I love. Getting something neat makes them happy, and seeing them happy makes me happy. And, presumably, vice-versa. Deal with it, you jerkoffs.
Reminds me of that dumb Frank Capra movie (no, not that one, this one). Nobody actually thinks work is more important than those you love. Nobody actually thinks toys are more important than those you love. But you work because you need to support those you love, and if you've got some extra left over, you buy them toys because it makes you happy to see a smile on their faces.
I am willing to concede that the criticism of Christmas commercialism may have been valid the first time, perhaps even the first dozen or so times. Not anymore, not by a longshot. I would even go so far as to say that today, well past its millionth iteration, it has lost all trace of sincerity. I honestly do not believe the people making these complaints truly give a damn about the true meaning of Christmas. I think they are sad, bitter, lonely, unloved, quite possibly deranged individuals who are deliberately trying to ruin the holidays for the rest of us. In a word, grinches. Partly to display their superiority, partly because the sight of happy, well-fed Americans and Canadians (in a world full of starving Africans!) makes them sick.
So, to all those complaining about how Christmas is being ruined, here is my message to you. You want to know what really ruins Christmas? Assholes complaining about how much Christmas is being ruined. SHUT. THE. FUCK. UP. And Merry Christmas!