Friday, December 25, 2020

GOODNIGHT, FUCKERS #316: WHAT CHRISTMAS MEANS TO ME

I'm a lifelong atheist. More or less. I went on searches for religion over the course of my life (and when I was 12 I got my first blowjob out of it, long story), but even though I thought I found it a few times, I was wrong. Even as a child, I did not believe in God. Maybe it's because I was never taught to. I never really believed in Santa, either. I had my suspicions that it was a lie to get me to just go to fucking sleep, or Santa will never come you little brat. (Mom called me a brat a lot, and I deserved it half the time.) In fact, there is one thing us atheists are asked all the time: if you have no fear of punishment in the afterlife, why be good? I'll answer that by the end of this. Promise. And if you're not an atheist, you might not like what I have to say.


I feel I should also mention that I'm not just talking about the Christian God(s). I'm talking about all gods. I'd sooner believe in Zeus than this crazy shit that people are babbling about now, and Zeus is fucking stupid.


Santa made just as much sense to me at that age that Jesus did. Meaning, NONE. The true meaning of Christmas keeps getting shoved down my throat every fucking year. It's the birth of Jesus and so on et cetera go fuck yourself if you don't believe in Jesus. That's my experience. Yours probably varies.


When I was a kid, I loved holidays. I threw myself into every one of them, even Arbor Day. Now? I don't give a flying fuck at a rolling, still or flying doughnut. I'm a horror author who doesn't give two tugs of a dead dog's cock about Halloween. I don't care about any of them.


But I remember when I was a kid, and after we all opened presents on Christmas Day (this was before I met the person who would abuse me for a good portion of my childhood), I remember that Gramps took out the projector and showed us the ghosts of Christmas Past. I learned how to thread the film through, and we'd watch as my mom and my aunt would, as children, open their presents. Gramps looked like Hunter S. Thompson. Grandma had horn-rimmed glasses and her hair in curlers. I saw the very same tree and decorations that we still used when I was a kid in those films. And then we'd watch past films of us opening presents. We also had these great cartoons on literal film. We didn't get sound, but when you're watching Tom and Jerry or the Three Stooges or even Puss'n'Boots, you didn't need it.


There was this one year that I got a tank that fired a missile that was supposed to be harmless if a kid got hit with it. But a tree ornament? It shattered the fucker. I was guilt ridden about that, not because I expected punishment. I did. But because that was a decoration that was gone forever because I was a stupid fucking kid.


What we never did when I was a kid was go to church. Ever. My dad's side of the family was very religious (read: Catholic), but my mom's side? Nope. We barely set foot in church for weddings and funerals. Certainly not for a fucking Christmas mass. We were too busy with real people stuff.


And today I remain an atheist. And like I said, holidays don't mean anything to me anymore.


But in my vicinity, there is a child in my family. Last year, I was so broke I got no presents for anyone . . . except this kid. Because I know that when you're a child Christmas means everything to you.


But Christmas does mean something to me, regardless of all the things I just said. Fuck the religious side of it. The true meaning of Christmas has nothing to do with the birth of Christ, as far as I'm concerned. If you doubt that, you can talk with some Druids about . . . fuck it. Never mind. I don't want to start a holy war. I don't want to hurt anyone. I don't want any arguments from anyone about anything on this topic. So if you have an opinion, keep it to yourself.


And fuck Santa. He was created by a corporation so that . . . never mind that, either. Fuck that. I'm not here to etc.


And I'm not too pleased with the capitalist side of this so-called holiday. But considering my rants about Black Friday, you should not be surprised.


What does Christmas mean to me? Not much, to be fair. But it does have meaning. For me, it's a time of giving. When I was a kid, unbridled greed got the better of me, but now? I don't care if I get a single Christmas gift. I just like giving. I don't even wait to see the look of happiness on anyone's face. I gave, and that's enough for me. Because I'm kind of a cold person. People thanking me makes me feel weird, so I just ignore it.


I understand that sometimes you just can't give. Like last year for me? I couldn't give. So I didn't. But if you can, I'd take the advice that Craig Ferguson offers in his book BETWEEN THE BRIDGE AND THE RIVER: "Help others." A weird thing to come from a late night host on regular TV, right? But I'll be damned if that hasn't stuck with me. It's one of my top five favorite books of all time. Help others. Just do it. Not for you. If you think it'll get you into Heaven, you're doing it for the wrong reason.


So. Why be good if I have no fear of punishment in the afterlife? First, I can't claim to be always good. I'm selfish a lot of the time, and I've hurt a lot of people in my life, but I've tried to be good. Not to earn Brownie points with the Great Whatever. But if you're being good because you're afraid of getting a red pitchfork up your ass in the fiery depths of Hell, then you aren't really good. You're acting in self interest.


We're all in this together. It sucks. We don't like each other most of the time. But WE ARE ALL IN THIS TOGETHER. Why make life miserable when you can help ease someone else's suffering? That's why I try to be good. This is all we have. When you die, you're dead. That sucks, but we do have this time. Behave (more or less). Be good (if you can). Help others. Merry Christmas.

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