Angry Robot


I normally hate Christmas, just as I hate springtime, freedom, America, and all that’s good in the world. I hate it for the bastardized mess of a symbol it has become. But something odd happened this year: complete reversal. Christmas is a confusing heap of wreckage, as if the speeding train of commodification and the overdecorated bus of Christianity crashed into the mountain of paganism, ageless and unavoidable, with the crossing guard of politeness trying to mediate. And guess who’s still standing. We heap gifts under a tree as if they fell from it, nature’s bounty. We sink ourselves in a spiralling potlatch. Everyone blows their cool trying to negotiate the traps of family, shopping, and overeating. To be safe you wish people a merry “holiday”. We do whatever we can to protect the children from reality. The raw human greed that seethes below the present-opening ceremony. What’s not to love? Xmas, or Holiday, or Barn-Kid Thing, or The Fat Man and Chimney Miracle, whatever you want to call it, is the festering welt on the ass of our civilization – kiss it some more, it’s sure to pop soon. Merry Holiday!