Merry Christmas
I love Christmas. I love everything about it: the gaudy lights, the twisted mutant Christmas carols, the obscene materialism, the annual War-On-Christmas canard. I love sitting next to a decorated Christmas tree, love reading good books in its flickering light. I love driving all around on Christmas Day to hang out with my family. I love shopping for gifts with my wife, love watching my nephews tear their presents open with a voraciousness I remember all too well from my own carniverous gift-opening days.
This despite the fact that I don’t really subscribe to the religion that gave us Christmas in the first place. I used to, I guess, in a sort of half-hearted defaultish kind of a way, but I’ve fallen steadily into athiesm over they years, not all at once but rather by narrow gradations of faltering belief.
But my areligiosity has done nothing to kill my love for this season, for everything it represents; for everything it is. I may not believe in Christ anymore, but I still believe in Christmas.
So Merry Christmas, everyone.
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