Poor Jesus of suburban Nazareth, born in an zoned commercial district in Bethlehem, lo these many years, on a date that will forever be disputed in history. All these parties in His honor and He never gets invited. (Did you know that there was once a calendar year that was 455 days long? They'd forgotten to factor in leap days for a number of decades and so they stuck them all into one year, so how the hell do you figure out birthdays in the years to come; it'd be like having February 29 through February 135. People born February 133, 1208 would never have another birthday in their lives!)
People who are saved through the auspices of the divine Jesus are saved for every day of the year. People who buy other people gifts for opening on 12-25 of each year are simply captive of a fairly recent tradition, artfully engineered by crass commerce.
Like having to buy the bride a diamond engagement ring... Oh, sure, like that's in the Bible! But try to find even a good Christian female who will tell her groom not to buy a stupid, useless diamond (you know what kind of exploitation goes on in getting that diamond ring onto her finger?), and to instead buy her a bread machine, if there's enough left over after he buys a new set of extremely useful and necessary set of golf clubs. You know how many such glorious women exist? You can count such a glorious being on one finger of one hand, my wife! (Hosanna, excelsior!)
So now here it is, the 26th of December. As a Lazthiest, and not a all interested in Salvation, whether it be through Jesus of Nazareth or Tiger of NikeGolf, I'm happy that Christmas Day is behind me. I won't think about Christmas or Jesus, other than intellectually, should someone insist on knowing the exact date of his birth or of having personally met Him, until well into November. And only then to do another rant about X-Me$$.
Blessed be my name, Hey Men, let's golf.
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5 comments:
Best part about December 26: You can't get any farther away from Christmas.
your blog is very fine......
so you want me to take back the tickets to the creationist museum?
love,
jilly
I'm happy your back, Bert, I missed your whit so much.
The 26th is the day of my birth, so I celebrated #46 with a shopping trip to Costco.
We neither gift nor get, and Chris hears many hoots and hollers at his work when the Annual "What did you get your girlfriend/wife for X-mess" question comes and Chris says something akin to "nothing"....ahhhh my favorite gift. Always the perfect fit.
thank you, real people.
As for you, Goooooood Girl, with seven "O"s in your name, I can't get over that we finally found each other!
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