My Dearest Darlings, I apologise for my extended absence, though I’m sure many of you would not have noticed as it is more than likely you have been seduced into celebrating the birth of Jesus Christ and the turning of a brand new year. This annual festive period invites the foolish to purchase unnecessary trinkets for the ungrateful. To cook feasts for the greedy and to generally celebrate the art of celebration. Some traditions may be rooted in some childhood training anchoring the dim witted into a sense of security and comfort. Though in this time of economic crisis, who am I to challenge you to question this yearly eviction of common sense?
I am yours; The Amazing Ms Coco LaVerne.
As I cast my all seeing eye across your society and culture it seems ever more apparent that these traditions insidiously seep misery into your world. For the lucky few who had cherished families and loved ones around them it may have been a time of cooperation and camaraderie inviting many jovial moments and the creation of shared memories, a pleasant respite from the daily drudgery of your inane lives.
Though for others the cost of such celebration is not just financial; undoubtedly the planning and organisation of such activity takes effort, an effort which may well have fallen to the matriarchal family figure. She had to liaise with in-laws, charm reluctant guests, perfectly source gifts, miraculously fashion a feast with limited resources and effortlessly lubricate the family Christmas, appearing to be totally and utterly in control whilst maintaining a sunny disposition. The majority of woman kind understandably failed to uphold this ideal of perfection and as result will wrestle with various levels of guilt and self-loathing for the first few weeks of 2009.
Young children were of course oblivious to such goings on, their only concern that they receive an impressive enough present worthy of boastful playground tittle-tattle. Older off-spring miraculously regressed into childhood roles as they returned to the family homestead. Transformed into surly, demanding teenagers their own developing demands required renewed diplomacy within the evolving family unit. It’s more than likely that the family patriarch took a back seat helping little and demanding much. As the Christmas collective blindly and obediently consumed too much the cracks were bound to show. For many, time with relations involves hidden resentment, subtle insult, thinly veiled personal attack and fake smiles through gritted teeth. A family Christmas is loaded with individuals placed in their own unique predetermined role, be it artificially induced joy or complete and utter despair these traditions are set on annual repeat.
Those of you without family feared the humiliation of a non-traditional Christmas. This global celebration originating from the production of the world’s most famous baby has evolved into the ultimate aphrodisiac. Under the total cultural saturation and the utterly nauseating promotion of the heterosexual family unit, the festive season seems designed to esteem the producers of family into deities. Casting the yet to achieve the mythical state of love and marriage as not quite completely adult. Single thirty something‘s return home, spouseless and childless greeted with unwanted sympathy from extended family who offer misplaced consolation and comfort.
Worse still than those that are yet to reproduce are those who refrain from engaging in ‘correct’ sexual practices, just before the Christmas season Pope Benedict reminded the world of the evils of Homosexuality: ‘A close reading of Pope Benedict’s annual Christmas address to cardinals at the Vatican makes clear that homosexual and transgender people are the targets of his comments on creation, order, gender and the manipulation of human nature. The Pope said that the Church had a duty to “protect Man from destroying himself”. He called for an understanding of the “ecology of Man” as well as of the environment and said that the “natural order” of human beings as man and woman should be respected. Gender theory had led Man away from God, and marriage, a way of life not permitted to Catholic priests, was a “sacrament of creation.” A message of hate just in time for Christmas, how festive and typical of a church designed to control and subjugate. Though interestingly Ironic that the Pope selected the campest and most ostentatious time of the year to shun those most well equipped to assist in celebrating it.
So as the twelfth night falls you collectively emerge from your own particular versions of the festive season, shell-shocked and war-worn you blink flinching into the light of the real, bloated and hung-over you seek refuge in the comfort of your own lives. Whatever your experiences you will undoubtedly field questions on the subject with diplomatic pleasantries, and such is the life you lead.
Luckily for you I am amongst the few that understand the truth.
With Love and Best Wishes for 2009, Ms