(Let’s start Christmas right with a cheerful piece from Christopher Hitchens)
I used to harbor the quiet but fierce ambition to write just one definitive, annihilating anti-Christmas column and then find an editor sufficiently indulgent to run it every December. My model was the Thanksgiving pastiche knocked off by Art Buchwald several decades ago and recycled annually in a serious ongoing test of reader tolerance. But I have slowly come to appreciate that this hope was in vain. The thing must be done annually and afresh. Partly this is because the whole business becomes more vile and insufferable—and in new and worse ways—every 12 months. It also starts to kick in earlier each year: It was at Thanksgiving this year that, making my way through an airport, I was confronted by the leering and antlered visage of what to my disordered senses appeared to be a bloody great moose. Only as reason regained her throne did I realize that the reindeer—that plague species—were back.
Not long after I’d swallowed this bitter pill, I was invited onto Scarborough Country on MSNBC to debate the proposition that reindeer were an ancient symbol of Christianity and thus deserving of First Amendment protection, if not indeed of mandatory display at every mall in the land. I am told that nobody watches that show anymore—certainly I heard from almost nobody who had seen it—so I must tell you that the view taken by the host was that coniferous trees were also a symbol of Christianity, and that the Founding Fathers had endorsed this proposition. From his cue cards, he even quoted a few vaguely deistic sentences from Benjamin Franklin and George Washington, neither of them remotely Christian in tone. When I pointed out the latter, and added that Christmas trees, yule logs, and all the rest were symbols of the winter solstice “holidays” before any birth had been registered in the greater Bethlehem area, I was greeted by a storm of abuse, as if I had broken into the studio instead of having been entreated to come by Scarborough’s increasingly desperate staff. And when I added that it wasn’t very Tiny Tim-like to invite a seasonal guest and then tell him to shut up, I was told that I was henceforth stricken from the Scarborough Rolodex. The ultimate threat: no room at the Bigmouth Inn.
This was a useful demonstration of what I have always hated about the month of December: the atmosphere of a one-party state. On all media and in all newspapers, endless invocations of the same repetitive theme. In all public places, from train stations to department stores, an insistent din of identical propaganda and identical music. The collectivization of gaiety and the compulsory infliction of joy. Time wasted on foolishness at one’s children’s schools. Vapid ecumenical messages from the president, who has more pressing things to do and who is constitutionally required to avoid any religious endorsements.
And yet none of this party-line unanimity is enough for the party’s true hard-liners. The slogans must be exactly right. No “Happy Holidays” or even “Cool Yule” or a cheery Dickensian “Compliments of the season.” No, all banners and chants must be specifically designated in honor of the birth of the Dear Leader and the authority of the Great Leader. By chance, the New York Times on Dec. 19 ran a story about the difficulties encountered by Christian missionaries working among North Korean defectors, including a certain Mr. Park. One missionary was quoted as saying ruefully that “he knew he had not won over Mr. Park. He knew that Christianity reminded Mr. Park, as well as other defectors, of ‘North Korean ideology.’ ” An interesting admission, if a bit of a stretch. Let’s just say that the birth of the Dear Leader is indeed celebrated as a miraculous one—accompanied, among other things, by heavenly portents and by birds singing in Korean—and that compulsory worship and compulsory adoration can indeed become a touch wearying to the spirit.
Our Christian enthusiasts are evidently too stupid, as well as too insecure, to appreciate this. A revealing mark of their insecurity is their rage when public places are not annually given over to religious symbolism, and now, their fresh rage when palaces of private consumption do not follow suit. The Fox News campaign against Wal-Mart and other outlets—whose observance of the official feast-day is otherwise fanatical and punctilious to a degree, but a degree that falls short of unswerving orthodoxy—is one of the most sinister as well as one of the most laughable campaigns on record. If these dolts knew anything about the real Protestant tradition, they would know that it was exactly this paganism and corruption that led Oliver Cromwell—my own favorite Protestant fundamentalist—to ban the celebration of Christmas altogether.
No believer in the First Amendment could go that far. But there are millions of well-appointed buildings all across the United States, most of them tax-exempt and some of them receiving state subventions, where anyone can go at any time and celebrate miraculous births and pregnant virgins all day and all night if they so desire. These places are known as “churches,” and they can also force passersby to look at the displays and billboards they erect and to give ear to the bells that they ring. In addition, they can count on numberless radio and TV stations to beam their stuff all through the ether. If this is not sufficient, then god damn them. God damn them everyone.
A good read and wonderful sentiment, but not really up to annual repetition.
Yeah, well, Hitch is Hitch and right most of the time and worth reading all of the time. But every now and then, he could be a cranky grouch, slipping into the same offense-taking about which he so often and so rightly complained of in others. Every now and then, I wondered if he’d misplaced his Pepto Bismal when started to write. This was, I’m afraid, one of those times. And if I were in a Scrooge mood this Christmas morning [by the way, Merry Christmas everyone, and/or Happy Holidays/Seasons Greetings/Happy Solstice/Compliments of the Season, as you prefer], I’d be tempted to note that anyone who went on to Scarborough’s show in hopes of having a substantive and serious discussion on air deserved what he got.
‘Tis the season. Make merry and leave the kvetching for the morrow.
Hitches in literary, erudite, urbane rant mode.
… and call off Christmas!
Plum pudding and holly stakes for everyone!
Totally agree. All that mandatory glee, it’s so depressing.
Today is the birthday of a great man who lived a long time ago and who’s teachings have changed the world. I’m talking about Sir Isaac Newton, of course.
Here is a brief commentary on the Pope’s speech last night (not mine).
Was he at my in-laws last night? I didn’t see him…
neither; they’re too self-absorbed to give a fuck how other people feel about this; all they notice is whether the world is catering to their wants or not. This is after all the sort of people who would wonder (out loud no less) whether non-christians might not simply be NPCs in the grand game of life (only mildly paraphrased, but the word “NPCs” was definitely used)
Ah, a tone troll in the second comment. A brave warrior fighting to protect the innocent reindeer from the vile assaults of Christopher Hitchens. How terribly cute.
And yet, Hitchens was in some ways not as vitriolic as he might have been. He does not mention that the grotesque ejaculations of purchasing propaganda which stream continuously from all media outlets cajole many into overspending. And thus into debt. Nor does he mention the combination of panicked shopping with adverse weather and occasional intoxication creates the most dangerous driving conditions of the year … perfect for long road trips to visit relatives.
(As seasonal music, I recommend the song _Shop_ by Snog. No, not the yogurt. The industrial band.)
No I agree with Hitch on this one. The time to be kind is when kindness is due. The fake snobbery of christmas compiled with the for christians only veneer makes me want to lose my christmas dinner.
flatlander100 wrote: “Yeah, well, Hitch is Hitch…”
Not anymore.
“compulsory infliction of joy” sums up everything I hate about this time of year.
However, I’m expecting Christmas dinner to be delicious. I may hate shopping and carols and reindeer, but there’s nothing wrong with prime rib roast and apple pie. :)
Ahh Hitch, you had a way with words.
As for me, it’s not the winter holiday I object to, it’s all the snarky snipers who spew schiesse at the very idea of anyone not shouting Merry Jesusmas! with an upraised right hand.
Another @13: Well, that’s the thing with writers. They’re still with us, very much so, even after they’ve shuffled off to where ever Flying Spaghetti Monster shuffles the expired. Hitch on the page is still with us, and where his writings are concerned, still rates an “is.”
The Ultimate violation of the Establishment Clause is clearly stated in the above column; “Tax Exempt” religious organizations.
It’s an insult that I must support churches with my taxes. Since these shit-birds pay no taxes, the rest of us provide all services to them.
What a crock.
“A bit of a stretch”??? Hitch himself has compared North Korea to X-ianity countless times.
As someone who works in retail, I find this so refreshing. American Christianity has taken a holiday that’s supposed to be about celebrating the [inaccurate, since he was born in spring] alleged birth of someone who preached meekness and humility [when he wasn’t preaching genocide] and turned it into a religious capitalistic orgy of consumption.
I love spending time with the family and eating good food but this holiday makes people evil. This time of year makes me want to hide in a dark room because of the wretched rudeness of people shopping for the season of giving.
I work as a clerk at a counter that functions as, among other things, a sub station for the USPS.
I heard a customer (who the previous day had worn a shirt with “Jesus” and “Christmas” in big letters) whining to my boss about people “not being aloud to say ‘Merry Christmas’, not even in your own paper.” I had been seeing all the local TV channels wishing “Merry Christmas”. I wanted to grab one of the books of postage stamps that had a Madonna and Child with the very word “Christmas” on each one, slap it in front of him, and tell him to clam the fuck up and be happy with the level of dominion his cult had already achieved.
Last night, after coming home from a delightful trip to see my extended family and a wonderful array of food, I caught a view of the weekend edition of our local newspaper. “Merry Christmas” was very prominently featured.