Happy Birthday Jesus!

Originally Written: 17/12/09

It all began, as things do, in my head. It was a slow click, and it didn’t make sense. Why was it that some of my friends were hell-bent on arguing that there was a tooth-fairy that snuck into their rooms, replacing the useless teeth with small change like some kind of currency? This bullshit was beyond me. For everyone knew it was a tooth-mouse, right?

Because that made sense, and in hind-sight, was definitely more logical than a fairy. I had seen mice, I knew what they were made of. Even in recent years I can testify that a mouse is more than capable of entering under the door and scratching under my bed, and I have never seen a fairy do this. So the concept of a friendly mouse with an excess of human money wasn’t that weird for a seven year old kid. But a fairy? That was a whole new can of worms. If one was to believe in fairies, well then you might as well believe in gnomes and goblins, dragons and the Tokoloshe. Mice exist, I swear to god, I have seen them.

Now, I think I would’ve accepted this if girls believed in the fairy theory, while guys believed in the mouse. The fairy is not only a more feminine mythical creature, but girls obviously had no idea what they were talking about. They had cooties after all, and who knows what the fuck else. But why would my seemingly intelligent guy friends believe in such an atrocity? I just had to ask.

“Mom?” I approached the subject carefully on a day I will never forget. “Is the tooth-mouse really real?” Her face changed, it was slightly amused as if she knew this day would come. Maybe even proud that her son was growing up. She pulled me into the study to make sure my little sister didn’t hear her.

“No, he isn’t, Jared.”
Ok, that I could handle.
“And the Easter Bunny?”
“No Jared”
Ouch. Ok, ok. Maybe all isn’t lost though.
“And Father Christmas??”
“No.”

It swelled up inside me. It couldn’t be. I had put so much faith into this man. The man that in many ways had over-shadowed Jesus as the true giver, the hero celebrity of Christmas.

“No!” I eventually cried “No! He is real! I know it!”
“Ok, yes Jared, you’re right, he is real.” She turned away.

That didn’t sit right with me. The dream was over, there was no magical fat man who would climb down my chimney (a chimney which didn’t even exist). My fucking dad was eating the cookies, which was almost more unfair than anything else. I had been tricked by my own parents. I was a sucker, a pre-teen, ignorant sucker. How had I been such a fool?

You better watch out, you better not cry,
You better not pout, I'm tellin' you why,
Santa Claus is coming to town.
He's making a list, he's checking it twice,
He's gonna find out who's naughty and nice,
Santa Claus is coming to town.

It’s amazing that any of us could sleep at night. It was a game our parents loved to play, a sadistic laugh every time they used the Christmas excuse to keep us in check. "Don't do that Jared, Santa is watching" which is a scarier thing to hear than "Satan is watching" at that age.

But no, not me, no more, I was in the know.

Of course, the next Christmas was even better. No longer was I paranoid that the quality of my presents was weighed by an old man watching my good and bad deeds. I wanted what I wanted, and it was my parents who got it for me, or failed. Oh the joy! The realization! The freedom! And it finally made sense why this powerful man skipped those in poverty every year.

St. Nicholas was real though, we all know that. A giver, the true Santa who used to give to the poor and earned the nickname Nicholas the Wonderworker. He was the original model of Santa, the reason why we thought the latest remote-control car or Barbie’s play-house came from The North Pole. And yet, his story is criminally overlooked, and I want to pay homage to him here.

Many legends have developed surrounding the saint. Most people know that he used to put coins in people's shoes when they left them out of their houses. But did you know that he once resurrected 3 children after they were slaughtered by an evil Butcher and sold for meat? I mean, that's got to be true. Then again, if I was cut into little bits, I'd rather stay dead, but each to their own. He also once threw money in a poor man's window so he could afford to get his daughters to marry people and get out of his house. So yeah, he was obviously really rich, but a kind rich man is better than a kind poor man, trust me.

St. Nicolas day generally falls on the 6th of December. Nobody knows this, and yet we still celebrate a model of his actions 19 days later. Plus, St. Nick didn’t have a factory of toys. And whoever came up with the fucking elves idea (just a glorified version of child-labour) is beyond me. Who named the reindeer? And how much time did we waste learning all these stupid facts?

Fun and games aside, there is a real reason why we celebrate Christmas, one that pre-dates any Santa-myth. The most famous person that ever existed: Jesus Christ himself.

Now I must prewarn, I have many Christian friends. And I am all for that, find your own way to worship God (or whatever you want) I think it is important. But if you get a little squeamish when your views are challenged, I mean no harm, please stop reading.

I believe in Jesus, I do. I think a story of that magnitude had to start somewhere. I used to wear a cross everyday as a respect to that, an icon that changed history to such a degree that wars have been fought in his “honour”. And on the 25th of December, 3 wise men followed a bright star and found the miracle baby, the savior, Jesus Christ.

Except this didn’t happen quite like we have been told. I’m sorry, but the proof is under your nose, if you choose to look. The Bible itself never even mentions the 25th of December, in fact it has been said that Jesus was born during Summer as it would be unusual for shepherds to be “abiding in the field” during December when fields were unproductive. Scholars generally agree it would be more likely that Jesus was born in September. So much for those naivety plays you did in Junior School - there is no mention of a donkey, a stable or even the innkeeper ANYWHERE in the Bible.

So where did this come about? Why the hell are we giving presents to each other; parents eating cookies and scaring naughty kids; extra long church sermons remembering the birth of the saviour etc? All without any historically accurate literature (including the Bible) relating the significance of this day to... well... anything?

Thanks to the blasphemous Da Vinci Code and Zeitgeist, the facts have been quite wide-spread. Almost every tradition in the Christian religion was stolen from Pagan cultures. Mithras, Osiris, Adonis, and Dionysus were all "born" on the 25th. All of this is crap, however, because what we are really celebrating here is the day that the Sun reverses its southward retreat, which was significant to those peeps living in BC who loved The Sun so much that we can actually trace almost every form of organized worship to the fiery ball in the sky. And I am all for that, I fucking love The Sun.

So there you have it. We are still just celebrating something that was put in place by people who thought the earth was flat and that we were the center of the universe. Progression my ass, you guys are still a bunch of monkeys. Not me tho, I'm kind of like a rubix cube.

Anyways, regardless of The Sun, Jesus or Santa: Christmas is a joyous day. I love it. The vibe is unmistakable, old people indulge in extra wine, the food is superior, there is unity. It’s the day of giving and receiving, about feeling good, about making others feel good. And even the most heathenistic of us all can see the positivety in that. But whether you use this day to eat too much, to connect to your Lord, to love your family, or to get stuff... remember that it's all a crock of shit and you are an idiot.

Have a Merry Christmas.
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