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A Neo-Catholic Christmas Ask not what your. No, that's not going to work. God does not love you the. Bugger, taken again. All the best theses are gone already, and the Manifesto has them. They're not even mine. So I thought I'd write a piece about how I care not a solitary fuck about people and their opinions on the 'net. But even I'm not so stupid to be that tautological. Which leaves us with the festive season, doesn't it? And what a season it is. Festive-filled fun frolics festooned. firely. That was never going to end well, was it. Everyone seems to think less and less of Christmas every year. People either become cynical towards their fellow humans or they start claiming that it isn't as good as it used to be. Well, straighten out those humps (borne, methinks, from too much masturbation and not enough sun) and prepare to be shock. I like Christmas. Well, the last week of Christmas. Specifically Christmas Eve. To be precise the hours of six till two at night. It's great. I'm a last minute shopper (although not this year), so Christmas Eve, my arms laden with pressies as I walk through the door, is a blessing once I collapse onto my settee and fumble for a TV remote. It's near six hours before I go to Midnight Mass and I get to slump, half-comatose, through a marathon of televisual Christmas cheer. If God is willing (and it's usually the case) I won't move much for the entire time, excepting a spot of dinner. It's a nice, quiet, time. The sun sets, the room becomes illuminated only by a flicking TV set. Peace finally falls over me. At some point I'll change into a towelling robe (and little else) and hover around the house, making sure I don't start to sleep. The world, seemingly, ceases to exist; phones do not ring, the TV becomes so bland to be virtually turned off. Candles are lit, lights are turned off, and a Christmas ham sits, untouched, on the kitchen top. Then, at a time that seems almost arbitary, my family goes to Midnight Mass. We sing, we pray, we sing some more, and then it's home for ham sandwiches. Bliss, I've got to tell you, is pretty much this. I like Christmas... 'Tis the season to share a little joy. Even if this year's tellie programming is a bit crap. --The Pope |
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