Gather round my children, and I will tell tales of war...

As Thanksgiving passes, we gather round and and tell stories of the endless war. Poverty? Drugs? Terror? Nope. The War on Christmas. Some may say that war is glorious, but "war is cruelty, and you cannot refine it." Sure Spielberg makes it look glorious, but you be the one trapped in vines of garland as glass ornaments explode above you. You try assaulting the Fortress of Good with nothing but some sharpened holly leaves, poison oak fashioned to resemble mistletoe, and evil godless intentions. Tell me stories of it now!

Okay, that may be overwrought, kinda like the seasonal cries of conservatives that there is a "war on Christmas" is on. The way that cantankerous would-be soldiers in this war wish you a "Merry Christmas" with chin out and nostrils flaring, just daring you to respond with an insufficient "Happy Holidays!" The mind games they play with store clerks making $7/hour who will probably get laid off in a month. And the thing of it all is, though I am proud and firm in my atheism, I agree with them. But for different reasons.

Because I think that it is time to liberate the word "Christmas" from the dusty, mournful still-life mishmash of early religious writers trying to fill in backstory to make even older religious writers seem prescient. Happily, our culture has writ the joyful trumpeting of angels across this feast.

We've drowned out the ominous observance of the Saturnalis Christmas to remember the virgin birth of baby Mithra Jesus born in Nazareth Bethlehem to one day die and rise again to save mankind as is the duty of Adonis the Son of Man. Because in 2007, America's Christmas is more, and I would say better than that.

I love the music of it, the lights. I love candy canes and yes -- mistletoe. I love this joyful conspiracy to fête a jolly man who gives freely to those deserving, and embodies humankind on its best. I love that the Grinch's heart grew three sizes that day, that Keith Lockhart conducts the heck out of a Christmas concert, that I'm almost in my 30s and still have a stocking. So yes, wish me a Merry Christmas.

That is worth celebrating. The goodness of man being kind to man, people smiling and wearing silly hats. And if I'm wrong and there is a Jesus, I imagine that he'd be pretty pleased with what his birthday has become.*

* Yes, I'm ignoring the excess consumerism that drives people to go to stores at 4am the day after Thanksgiving. I ignore it in this post, and I ignore it in my life. I don't let anybody ruin my Christmas, especially Madison Avenue. But if you want some Christmas humbuggery, here's some stand-up from Jim Gaffigan for ya.



His Easter stuff isn't as funny as Eddie Izzard's, though: