by RAF KATIGBAK

For some people, hearing that combination of two special words, “Merry” and “Christmas,” fills their hearts with pure bliss and their minds swell with scenes of magical magical-ness, like rings of sugar plum fairies dancing in the sky above clusters of happy, smiling, ethnically diverse children, climbing heaps of festively decorated gifts as the world unites in universal peace and harmony and stuff.

Still, more and more people I know feel differently, and they have a couple of different words for those other people: bah-fucking-humbug.

Never mind the debate of whether or not it’s more politically correct to say Happy Holidays or to also include every other culture like Hanukkah (Jews), Kwanzaa (African North Americans) and Happy Mew Year (Cat Lovers), we’ve been so inundated with Christmas decorations that Grinch-itude comes quick.

Yes, Christmas music should be outlawed by certain provisions of the Geneva Convention regarding torture, and yes, the speed with which commercial enterprises replace their jack-o-lantern/witch window decorations with Santa Claus/Christmas trees is absolutely frightening (my theory is that, over centuries, the two will eventually evolve into the same holiday and the story of Jesus’s birth will come to involve three wise men arriving in Bethlehem dressed as ghosts, asking for Snickers bars, then toilet-papering the shit out of the manger after Joseph gives them an apple and a toothbrush).

But wait. Pause for a second. Did you ever think that maybe it’s too easy to get all worked up about Christmas?

Okay, so the crowds of aggro people flooding the malls in a desperate rush to fill their wish lists (not to mention the handful of people willing to trade a down payment on a house for a brand new PS3 on eBay) is a generally sad idea, and especially annoying if all you want to do is go out and pick up a three-pack of cheap underwear at Zellers because you’re too lazy to go to the laundromat and alternating your current underwear inside out isn’t cutting it anymore.

But let’s not exaggerate. Despite what some of my more extremely liberal-minded friends are prone to believing, no, Christmas is not a capitalist conspiracy dreamed up by some cabalistic mega-corporation (oil) to sell tacky imported ornaments (made by exploited workers) and fuzzy reindeer antler headbands (which actually rule). And no, It’s a Wonderful Life is not a frightening propaganda film equal to the output of Leni Riefenstahl, and no, Christmas shopping is not a war zone. Do you see kids getting their limbs blown off by stray mortar shells in Les Ailes de la Mode? Didn’t think so.

Yes, it’s stupid to say “Merry Christmas” to someone who believes Jesus Christ was just an ordinary person with extraordinary facial hair, especially when December 25 is weeks away. Yes, all things related to Christmas are cheesy, tacky and somewhat lame. But that’s because most people are cheesy, tacky and somewhat lame, and we like that shit.

But perhaps we’re all missing the true spirit of Christmas. Christmas is about getting together with family, eating together as friends and appreciating each other’s company. It’s about giving, not because you have to, but because you want to, and understanding that the gifts you receive were given with pure intentions, and you receive them secure in the knowledge that ultimately, when it’s all over, you’ll be going back to the store with your gift receipt and returning the piece of shit that your loved one gave you and getting something you really want.

Sure, Christmas may have become a sickening time where people spend money they don’t have on people they don’t necessarily care about, but for crying out loud, it’s a paid fucking holiday, so suck it up, raise a glass of eggnog, and say Merry Christmas already!

Riff-Raff@sympatico.ca

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