It’s time again for my yearly ritual of writing a letter to cultural constructs and market-driven myths, asking for the impossible. I would have written sooner but I went on an uncharacteristic Jesus tangent.
‘Tis the season right?
As a market-driven myth, I’m sure you understand the folly of addressing fictional beings. As a tool, you are the perfect metaphor for highlighting the mindlessness of conspicuous consumption and the mendacity of seasonal make-believe. Being a collective whim of fantasy, you have nothing to say about it. How could you?
In keeping with traditions best abandoned, this letter is not about what you could bring me or a list of things I really don’t need. I thought a little man-to-myth communication could help you come to terms with commercial corruption and your inability to adapt over time.
I am sure you know I have been a very nice boy this year, having exercised my civic duty, given freely of my time in the spirit of community, and worked tirelessly for the advancement of environmental awareness and responsibility.
A Green Jedi, I’m dreaming of no Christmas and want nothing from you except distance.
Usually I would lay out my list of things I don’t actually expect to find under my nonexistent Christmas tree on the morning of Dec. 25, or soon thereafter. As you don’t really exist, I figure why bother?
Instead I would rather spend some time discussing your willingness to be a corporate whore and poster plumpness for mindless consumerism and overconsumption.
First, might I suggest you lose weight? What kind of message are you sending to children? All the candy and cookies given in your honor contribute to childhood obesity, diabetes and behavioral problems. And then there is your extortive milk and cookies policy enabling your jolly rotundity. What is up with that? How much milk does a jolly old elf really need?
Then there is the issue of your contributing to the dumbing down of American youth. When was the last time you loaded your sleigh with books and other educational tools? Perhaps you can hire literate elves to help organize the giving of gifts this year. If desired, I am happy to recommend books for everyone on your list.
And could you tell me why moms and dads do all the shopping, generating years of credit card debt in the process, but you get all the credit for bringing the stuff (you and your magical elves that is)? Where’s the integrity there dude? What kind of message does that send?
Now before you start thinking about leaving a lump of coal in my stocking, please know there will be no stockings hanging from the chimney with care this year or any year. I don’t wear stockings, we have no mantle at our place, and burning coal is so 2nd century, it’s time to move on.
Until next year, Merry Whatever!
Filed Under: Observations from the Edge