PCT - Post Christmas Tension - "IT'S THAT TIME OF THE YEAR"

I'm not entirely sure how the hell Christmas came here so quickly. But, here it is, and we're just going to have to deal with it the best way we can.

And what better way to deal with anything than with rampant consumerism, retail therapy, excessive consumption of food and alcohol, and a big dose of getting the fuck out of Dodge.

It's a time to reflect, a time to give, a time to care.

But mostly, it's a time to visit people you don't like, but have some fucked up moral obligation based on genetic history or marital law to pretend to like. And then hand some money over for highly marked-up closet/cupboard fodder.

Warning: This is a Category 4 rant.

They should put beer into a pill - so we can stop kidding ourselves.
(Is that quote-worthy? I should write that last line down)

I've decided to rename 'Christmas' to 'Jesusmas'. (I even got the thumbs up from the born-again chap at work.)

It should appease Jewish groups, because 'Christ' means The Anointed One, and Jesus is just the dudes name.

Nativity scenes also get my goat in a twist.

Does it represent the True™ meaning of Christmas™? Probably not.

One day I'll make a nativity scene of the Christmas truce - which truly represents what the day should be about. (Yeah yeah, he was born, we know, get over it, it was ages ago, his birth wasn't the only miracle y'know.. plus we've mostly perverted all that with Santa Claus and the corps aren't going to give up on that cash cow anytime soon.)

(Oh and Winamp just kicked over to Rage Against The Machine's Beautiful World, nice.)

Christmas Eve, 1914 - British troops and German troops in the depths of trenches, killing each other for some stupid reason that no one seems to be able to figure out - at least not in any way that remotely justifys it. The krauts (or as we call them, cabbages or cabbage products) decorated their trenches (or as I call them: mass graves conveniently arranged in rows for easy disposal of concenting excess undesirable population) with Christmas paraphernalia.

(Oh and Winamp just kicks over to Nirvana's Lithium, I'm two for two.)

Then German carols were sung with great gusto. Then the Brits sung their respectively translated carols. Which, remarkably, had the same tune, and many of the same words - this is possibly due to the fact that it's the SAME LANGUAGE, just suffering a bit of the old Chinese whispers, and SAME CAROLS, because they had the SAME TRADITIONS and SAME RELIGION. Funny that.

(Oh and Winamp kicks over to some shit song. BBBBBB John Butler's Somethin's Gotta Give.)

And so, for the day they held proper burials, played some football, had a few laughs - pissed the officers off no end. It didn't last. But for that brief moment, there was sanity. For a brief moment, all the lies, the bullshit, the control, the hatred, vengeance was all forgotten. Every single last shred of it. The foe was friend. The stupidity of war was highlighted that day. Peace is as simple as swapping salted meats instead of swapping fire.

(Dead Kennedy's Riot, kicking.)

And that is the meaning of Christmas - the season itself, the holiday, the flashing lights, the tradition in all it's material obsession, any negativities are entirely forgiven, all entirely justified by the actions of a few in that short period.

(Oh John Lennon's Imagine.. oh wait, it's fucking Oasis' Don't Look Back In Anger.. ahh that'll do.)

Of course, the powers that be do see peace as a threat - although it is difficult to justify - if you are at war and the troops of both sides refuse to fight, you can't actually lose. But you can't win either I guess.

(Rage's Born As Ghosts - don't you love it when you get a good run of shuffled mp3s?)

From Wikipedia: "British commanders Sir John French and Sir Horace Smith-Dorrien vowed that no such truce would be allowed again. In all of the following years of the war, artillery bombardments were ordered on Christmas Eve to ensure that there were no further lulls in the combat.
Troops were also rotated through various sectors of the front to prevent them from becoming overly familiar with the enemy. Despite those measures, there were a few friendly encounters between enemy soldiers, but on a much smaller scale than the previous year."

(Sir Mix-A-Lot's Baby Got Back... off-topic, quaint, yet tasteful...)

Have a Merry Christmas Truce Day, or Jesusmas Day. Peace on Earth to all - and may it be on the New Years Resolution of the powers that be.