I'm going to quit complaining about the holidays for a while. Not for long, I suspect, because they provide such a great opportunity for self-righteous individuals such as myself to rant incoherently. Really, Santa Claus is a easy target: big, fat guy dressed in red covered in tinkling bells and revealing his location with a booming laugh. What's the sport in flogging Santa Claus? I'm no athlete but I think I can run down that guy, although the magic sleigh may be a problem. That's his ace in the hole, those flying reindeer. I don't have an easy answer to that one.
The religious stuff is a little touchier. People get defensive if you start picking on their gods. I can understand that. Still, it has its attraction for me. It's funny how the original idea behind Christmas -- celebrating the birth of the saviour -- got buried under an avalanche of crass materialism. Those kooky marketing guys sure know what they're doing. Somehow they managed to translate gold, frankincense, and myrrh into Baby Burps-A-Lot. Frankincense and myrrh are shrubs that can be dried to create incense. Why would an infant want incense? I can just see Mary and Joseph muttering about that. "We're freezing to death in this stable and we get myrrh? How about a blanket so we can get rid of these swaddling clothes?"
Sidetracked again.
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