Category: Holidays

Why December 25th?

christmasAny historian will tell you that the Roman Empire normally collected taxes in the autumn — after the harvest — for the very pragmatic reason that this was when people had money to pay.  In fact, there are records that indicate the most famous tax decree in history — the one that forced Joseph and a very pregnant Mary to journey to Bethlehem — actually happened in late September.  Which means Jesus was almost certainly born a Libra — if you believe in that sort of thing.  So why do we celebrate Christmas, the birth of Christ, on December 25th?

It’s not rocket surgery, folks; it’s marketing.

The early Christians weren’t idiots (despite what contemporary anti-Christian loudmouths might tell us.)  They understood that when you’re the new kid in town and your doctrine is heavy on the “thou shalt nots” you need a few bells and whistles to pull people into the pews.  This was especially true, back in the day when there were enough gods and goddesses wandering around Europe to fill Wembley Stadium, and at least half of them were hooked into fertility.  Let’s face it: kneeling on cold stone, repenting your sins, doesn’t look all that attractive when there’s a good-old-fashioned fertility ritual (“orgy” is such a hard word) goin’ on down the block.  So one of the first things the new-fangled Christian Church did was hitch its festivals to all the pagan holidays that were being celebrated across the continent.  The idea was to score some pretty radical religious change by easing the locals into the notion.  For example, Easter, the highest Christian holiday is connected to the Norse and Anglo Saxon goddess of spring, Eastre (Eostre? Aster? depending on your translation) whose symbol is the rabbit.  Thus, it was no great leap for early Christians to look at the Roman Saturnalia Festival (December 17th on your Julian calendar) and say, “Wait a minute!” especially since Saturnalia celebrated the Winter Solstice with banquets, dancing and gift-giving.

The truth is we celebrate Christmas, the birth of Christ, on December 25th, because our ancestors saw a kickass marketing strategy and used it.  But who cares? Those of us who celebrate Christmas do it because we like it.  It’s fun.  And the bottom line is it doesn’t matter if we haven’t got a birth certificate.

Christmas On Pause

mickeyWe interrupt this traditional, sugarplum Christmas to bring you some stuff that is currently going directly to WTF? without even pausing at OMG!

Research Shows Man-Flu is real — No it isn’t; I don’t give a rat’s bum for your research.  Here’s the deal.  I’m a man; I recently had the flu.  It was the regular, one-size-fits-all, everybody-gets-it flu.  I was in the hospital with a bunch of women (we were all contagious together) who had the flu — the regular, one-size-fits-all, everybody-gets-it flu.  They handled it much better than I did.  Why?  ‘Cause man-flu is what men do when they need to catch a break from the constant pissin’ contest that is masculine existence.  (God!  Why do women always need an explanation?)

Some six-year-old earned 11 million dollars last year — That’s correct.  There’s a kid out there named Ryan who plays with toys every week on You Tube and earned 11 million dollars last year doing it.  However, just to clarify, the pre-schooler himself didn’t actually earn 11 million dollars.  (There are some serious child exploitation laws against that sort of thing.)  His parents did.  Either way, turning an ordinary childhood into an annual eight-figure money-maker is quite an accomplishment.  In my neighbourhood, the woman at Starbucks (who’s invested several years and a lot of money into two degrees in microbiology) is pouring coffee for minimum wage — plus tips (that she has to share with the guy who washes the floor.)  I guess it’s all a question of marketing.

The Minister of Happiness in India is wanted for murder — Staggered by the irony of that, I still have to ask the question: “How come we don’t get a Minister of Happiness?”  We’ve got any number of useless government departments, wasting tons of money on crap we don’t need.  Why not throw some coin at a Department of Happiness?  What’s it going to cost, anyway?  Some balloons?  Streamers?  Lemonade?  Maybe a juggler?  It’s something to think about it.  Anyway, the Indian state of Madhya Pradesh created the Department of Happiness last year and put Lal Singh Arya in charge.  Unfortunately, nobody bothered to background-check the guy, and now Lal Singh Arya is accused of murdering an opposition politician back in 2009.  He’s disappeared, and the authorities are looking all over the place for him.  (They might want to try looking in the Tickle Trunk.)

Walt Disney just bought FOX — Mickey Mouse, the squeakiest clean rodent in history, is about to give Rupert Murdoch (the Sorcerer of Sleaze) a boatload of money.  (Several boatloads, actually.)  These are the end of days, my friend — the End Of Days.

And now, back to our regular Christmas programming: the best rendition of the worst Christmas carol ever.

The 100% Spurious History of the Little Drummer Boy

boyI’ve always known that the Little Drummer Boy was put on this earth to annoy me.  However, over the years, I think I’ve been decent about it, and I’ve tried to be fair with the smarmy little bastard — but to no avail.  He refuses to meet me halfway and every year he sneaks back into Christmas, banging away on that stupid little headache-maker of his as if he’s God’s gift to rhythm.  “Hey, Ginger Baker! Give it a rest!  There’s only so much ‘pa-rum-pum-pum-pumming’ one man can take!”  Clearly, it’s impossible to negotiate with unreasonable jerks like the Little Drummer Boy, so the only way I can stop his Yuletide reign of terror is to expose him for what he is — a charlatan and a rogue.  This is The 100% Spurious History of the Little Drummer Boy.

Despite Claymation’s claim to the contrary, there actually was a Little Drummer Boy.  He was a small-time sneak thief who spent his nights picking the pockets of decent folk in the souks of Baghdad.  He wasn’t very good at it though, and after getting caught — a lot — he was told to either hit the road or become the newest member of the one glove club.  Drummer Boy skulked out of town on the next full moon and was well on his way to anonymity when he ran across the Three Wise Men who (as everybody knows) were on their way to Bethlehem.  LDB travelled with them for the next several days, shamelessly fawning and groveling in the hope of gaining their trust and getting his mitts on some of their treasure.  Unfortunately, wise as they probably were, when it came to street smarts, the Three Wise Men weren’t exactly the sharpest scimitars in the desert, and they fell for this blatant con.  Drummer Boy made off with a jar of frankincense and headed for Damascus.  The Three Wise Men journeyed on — just a little wiser and one jar of frankincense lighter.  However, rather than admit they’d gotten scammed by a petty little crook, the Wise Men decided to rework the story in a more favourable light and so emerged the tale we know today — “pa-rum-pum-pum-pum” and all.

And what happened to the Little Drummer Boy?  He was arrested for selling stolen frankincense, convicted and sentenced to 10 years hard labour in a Damascus prison — which is exactly what the treacherous little bugger deserved.

And, BTW, many people believe “The Little Drummer Boy” was written, in 1941, by Katherine Kennicott Davis, a mild-mannered New England music teacher.  This is not true.  The song was written by Nazis — flesh-eating, green-saliva Nazis — who were trying to undermine our morale during World War II.  Just sayin’!