I Eschew The Holiday Tree

It's kind of a charming joke: every year at this time, Bill O'Reilly trots out his "war on Christmas" rhetoric. And while it's increasingly obvious that it means little more than an extra revenue stream to him, it means a lot to me.

I have my own personal war with Christmas.

And I'm not just imposing my cultural correctness on people, requiring them to substitute the word "Holiday" so as not to offend your Jewish friends. Or Muslim friends. Or Atheists. Or Zoroastrians or Wiccans or people who have trouble pronouncing "s". That kind of thing endorses the holiday itself. As far as I'm concerned, the holiday itself is the problem.

Let this serve as your notice, friends of Daniel K: I'm not playin'. I don't want gifts or cards, but if you send them I'm not sending back. Consider me a giving Dead Zone. I will attend most holiday parties I'm invited to, if there are hot depressed chicks who are so frazzled by the season that they don't know WHAT they're doing. They're more vulnerable to my secular charms.

Christmas is a way of artificially jacking up goodwill and fellowship to a fever pitch. It doesn't increase either of those things. It just sucks them away from the surrounding months.

It's a thorny closet space problem too. In addition to finding a place to hide the gifts (as if they didn't know!) all through December, you have to set aside space the other 11 months for your useless decorations. What the hell do you need a box of colored lights on a string for anyway? And why do you need to jack up the power requirements for a city just at the dead of winter. Oh and whether you kill a tree or buy one made out of synthesized petroleum, you're still hurting the environment for nothing. If you pay any attention to your carbon footprint, it's anxiety you don't need.

Anxiety you don't need, actually, is the next 25 days in a nutshell. If you don't believe me, see how long it takes you to drive NEAR the mall this weekend.

If I were still Catholic, I could feel the way I do now and quietly respect the season for commemorating the birth of Our Lord, though apparently he wasn't born anywhere near December 25th. Still, I could simply turn out the lights and meditate all day.

Is it all good for the economy? Probably. Then again, maybe people who buy presents choose not to buy something else. Maybe it's like the goodwill and brotherhood thing.

So when A CHRISTMAS CAROL rears its ugly head again this year, I'm walking out just before dawn comes and Scrooge learns to love Xmas. As far as I'm concerned, Dickens dropped the ball on the perfect happy ending by going on so long.