12/19/2013 by syrbal-labrys
Yeah, I read the news and read the blogs and wonder if vodka for breakfast (especially with my back aching) might really be the best idea. But no, things to do. Locally, a coach and homophobe has died and everyone is telling me to remember when he played for the Seahawks. You know what? I don’t really give a shit about sports, and give even less of a damn about guys possibly doing it to prove their macho heterosexuality.
The discussion about White Santa and White Swiss Jesus add a certain…oh, what to call it? A certain EXTREME LUNACY to the holiday
debacle discussion. Don’t get me wrong, I love the winter holiday. What I don’t get is why every freaking year, there has to be this huge public display of ASS arguing about how everyone is to celebrate it. The Christians flunked history, apparently. The Moslems are pretty sure we are ALL non-monotheistic idolators, and since Baby Mammon is seen in every shop window; they might have a point. The Jews just want assholes to stop putting obscenities on their walls and stealing the yard-sized menorahs.
And me? I am going off into my personal pagan sunset tonight to celebrate MY own personal season of renewal and rebirth. I don’t need to serve any gods to do it, either…after all, what kind of wussy-assed god would need mere humans scampering about like Wormtongue to Saruman? So, I will be over at Experiential Pagan for most of the rest of this year, doing my best to ignore the rantage over why I don’t say Merry Christmas. Hey, Hail Herne, bitches…and bite me! Believe it or not, the world was going its way before Mary’s unfortunately fated little boy was born, and it goes on going — hampered as it is by human asshattery —after he is murdered and gone.
And IF you REALLY insist upon me to saying Merry Christmas? Hey…Denis has that handled!