The Prattle: A Christmas Wish
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(After reading Beckett’s “Gouge Away #2,” I decided it might be interesting to show the other side. Sort of a point & counter point if you will. Oh yeah, this is laced with profanity.)
How can you not love Christmas? To me, it is almost beyond comprehension.
Sure, if you have a horror story like you’ve spent this festive day stuck in a foreign country’s prison being raped by people who don’t even know your language or have the common courtesy to say, “Noel.” Then, I can understand and my sympathies go out to you and your inflamed rectum.
But otherwise, There’s just no excuse and it’s high time you lazy, self-centered, cynical fucks woke up and smelled the goddamned holly.
Christmas isn’t about some fat dude who has a flatulence problem or some religious figure who was first burped in a friggin’ stable. Sure, it may have started out that way, but Christmas has become much more than either of those things.
It’s a time when families get together, eat way too much food, drink large amounts of booze and talk about who is sleeping with who. Now that’s beautiful isn’t it?
Well, it is if you paid attention to the important words, which are, “families get together.”
You see, that is what Christmas is about. Sure, I could write some crap about perfect families and the joys of sharing but that would just be glorified diarrhea. The fact is, you’re not perfect and you’re families aren’t either. But so fucking what?
The important thing is that you take the time to say, “ I love you.” Even if it’s masked by a phrase such as, “Hey, you ugly bastard did you gain a few pounds? Come over here and rub my boil.” Deep down, I know what you mean and so do your loved ones.
The fact is, there’s nothing wrong with Christmas when it’s celebrated for the right reasons. However, there is something wrong with the unappreciative pricks who cannot see past their local mall’s propaganda to sell shit. These bastards need to step up to the plate, slug back some eggnog, and give someone they care about a phone call.
And in case I was even the slightest bit unclear, let me end this with something a teacher friend told me. She said, “I had this poem where kids were supposed to fill in the blanks with rhyming words for things they wanted and didn’t want. The funny thing is, the things that most of the children wanted were “to see my daddy,” “to have mom and dad get along” and other sentimental stuff like that. The stuff they didn’t want was, “Dolls,” “wool sweaters,” and “mittens.” So whenever you start thinking that Christmas is just about presents and greed, remember somewhere there’s a class of 5th grade, minority students who know the true meaning of Christmas even if you don’t.
If you have no questions or fears about your abilities, then you will learn nothing from your mistakes and know nothing about your limitations.