In the spirit of Christmas: it’s the most wonderful time of the year. However, this year we were redecorating our living room – the central, communal space that has not been refurbished since the year that we moved into the house, which was about ten years ago – so decorations were minimal, and it was even discussed not getting a Christmas tree. This motion was denied like Jesus was denied a comfy bed to be born in.
Despite this, it was a great Christmas. The tree sparkling with lights like you were looking up at the clear night sky. I don’t need to describe to you what was beneath the tree, because if you live in an environment that celebrates Christmas, the ideal is self-explanatory.
I don’t know if it helps to know, the story of Christmas, as I’m sure there are multiple stories of why Christmas exists and why we give presents, and why the people you are with is your family and friends rather than unacquainted animals, like fish or lions. There is the story of Jesus, which is the most conventional yet not the most believed, in my opinion – I think people more globally believe that Santa Claus really does come to town like Bruce Springsteen sings.
Do we give presents just to be nice, or is it because Jesus got given Gold, Frankincense, Myrrh, a Lamb, and undoubtedly the gift of being the most famous baby in the history of history, of history?
I am depicting Christmas like a madman, so I am going to stop before I perhaps discover that the world originated as a little, two-inch tall, Christmas tree and developed; reproduced little monkeys who turned into babies, who turned into adults, and then the human race developed from just a tiny little tree that curved into a sphere of land and sea, of green and blue, and that is where the history of the Christmas tree comes from.
Is that going to turn into a legitimate theory? If it did, if a theory that ridiculous would be believed, the world would be a very different place. Who’s Jesus? people would ask, where is our tree? they would ask, knowing and believing the story of the tree that I just made up on the spot.
What a lovely idea. The ideas in my head are just broken cogs trying to operate again. It hurts until I realise that I am wearing knee high elf socks made from wool and that fluffy material that no one really knows what it is but it is so soft that you don’t really care. They keep me warm on this December night.
Goodnight Christmas; Goodnight Christmasees; Goodnight to the little tree sitting in the core of creation. We will see you again in 365 days.
Santa Claus has left town. That is really upsetting.