Its not the memories of my living room engulfed in flames that bothers me on xmas. Its not the years of having to put on a contrived, faux-impromptu caroling scene for Don and Donna before we could open presents. Its not the crass consumerism or the cultural anxiety of having to perform ill-defined rituals properly lest you be branded a disappointment. Its the attempt at historical meaning and philosophy that get me down this time of year (that and the lack of sunlight).
I love giving and getting gifts. Cards, pictures, stories about friends and families' lives are a great way to connect after a busy year. But someone always has to throw in the sad attempt at historical interpretation, usually accompanied by some trite bit of pseudo-philosophy that is supposed to be profound.
This year we ended up back on the family address list (I didn't know such a thing existed, you'd think that if I were on it I would have been sent one). That got us a gem from an aunt who has spent her whole life too obsessed with the trappings of art/intelligence/mothering/socializing/housekeeping to have developed any actual skills.
I won't diverge into the inane retelling of the myth of St. Nicholas as if it were historical fact, nor the lunacy of a Mormon siding with a Catholic against the Arian heresy (the theological equivalent of a Capitalist siding with the Fascists against the Communists). It was all a waste of paper the first time around. How that story tied to a long, pointless justification for spending her life having 12 children I'll never know.
I'll just share this little memory: When MLEIV and I were first together we spent xmas with my family. She and I had been studying Greek that semester and had found a little tidbit of interest in the Greek New Testament. It seems that the Greek has the angels saying "good tidings to men of good will" instead of "good tidings, good will to men." We thought it was interesting, a new twist on an old idea. Don threw a fit, stomped upstairs and pulled out his KJV and proudly declared "that isn't how it reads in the *authorized* version that our leaders have accepted as true."
The leader has spoken. The priesthood has laid down the law. All debate now ends. And they wonder why we haven't spent xmas with them since.
The moral of the story: if you have some historically inaccurate, philosophically dubious, piece of tripe to spread go with (the Mormon) God, my friend! However, if you have something useful and interesting to say, STFU you dirty little heretic.
Merry pagan-solstice-ritual-turned-Christian-mass-turned-consumer-whore-day!
I love giving and getting gifts. Cards, pictures, stories about friends and families' lives are a great way to connect after a busy year. But someone always has to throw in the sad attempt at historical interpretation, usually accompanied by some trite bit of pseudo-philosophy that is supposed to be profound.
This year we ended up back on the family address list (I didn't know such a thing existed, you'd think that if I were on it I would have been sent one). That got us a gem from an aunt who has spent her whole life too obsessed with the trappings of art/intelligence/mothering/socializing/housekeeping to have developed any actual skills.
I won't diverge into the inane retelling of the myth of St. Nicholas as if it were historical fact, nor the lunacy of a Mormon siding with a Catholic against the Arian heresy (the theological equivalent of a Capitalist siding with the Fascists against the Communists). It was all a waste of paper the first time around. How that story tied to a long, pointless justification for spending her life having 12 children I'll never know.
I'll just share this little memory: When MLEIV and I were first together we spent xmas with my family. She and I had been studying Greek that semester and had found a little tidbit of interest in the Greek New Testament. It seems that the Greek has the angels saying "good tidings to men of good will" instead of "good tidings, good will to men." We thought it was interesting, a new twist on an old idea. Don threw a fit, stomped upstairs and pulled out his KJV and proudly declared "that isn't how it reads in the *authorized* version that our leaders have accepted as true."
The leader has spoken. The priesthood has laid down the law. All debate now ends. And they wonder why we haven't spent xmas with them since.
The moral of the story: if you have some historically inaccurate, philosophically dubious, piece of tripe to spread go with (the Mormon) God, my friend! However, if you have something useful and interesting to say, STFU you dirty little heretic.
Merry pagan-solstice-ritual-turned-Christian-mass-turned-consumer-whore-day!
