Being as that the absolute mutability of the details and specifics pertaining to the life of our lord and savior, the right honorable Jesus H. Christ, has long been embraced and celebrated by the fathers of the church, (Christ’s love of and/or distaste for whores, prawns, the diseased, homosexuals, bitchin’ Camaros, every nation on the face of the Earth, various professional sports franchises and a variety of other topics having been well-established by both the papacy and angry, drunken guys on the BART as a persuasive argument for the separation of fools and their money) I would submit that it should not be a controversial action in the least part to amend or modify the scriptures in such a way to suggest that the Holy Spirit’s seminiferous indwelling took place not in the dewy, April springtime of the Virgin’s immaculate womb, but in the cold, dark night of deepest October, perhaps as part of the ancient Judaic rite of Challahween.
Having thus transposed the date of the blessed, non-consensual event, it naturally follows that the embryonic messiah’s glorious gestation should have reached its conclusion not in the chill of winter, but instead as summer’s lush and languid treasures are revealed. The star of Bethlehem holding sway over the armies of commerce and tradition, Norse mythology and the rumours of the Pagans shall be swept away and as families gather round the twinkling fronds of the ceremonial palm tree, exchanging gifts and season’s greetings to the calypso rhythms of their cherished Christ-mass carols, their brethren in the business of electronic gaming will heave a healthy sigh of contentment, pleased to be spending the life-affirming months of warmth and sunshine in the company of friends and loved ones, instead of slaving away at the manufacture of their computerized diversions, all of which must previously have been delivered to the merchants of plastic and sorrow at Summer’s end, such that the wicked houses of Replication and Compliance might have the opportunity to perform their bizarre, occult rituals before placing them on the mythical “shelves” as a tribute to the Lord (and his fondness for sci-fi themed FPS titles).
And yet, even as I compose these thoughts I am filled with a dark and ominous dread that my words may be twisted and employed towards nefarious ends by the followers of Mammon. And so I shall be unequivocal in my admonishments: NO!!! This is NOT to say that the margins of (the) prophet shall be widened by the elevation of a second Son! There shall be NO talk of “Christmas 2.0” or ANY synergistic re-imagining of other hallowed Summer festivals (such as Independence Day or the “Vans Warped Tour presented in partnership with Boost Mobile: Boost… Where You At?”) as justification for the further perfunctory exchange of gifts. Let the specter of “Sweetest Day” haunt our memories and remind us that the unchecked inflation of “holy days” can only serve to multiply our woe. And let us also take this opportunity to address various other clerical errors in the story of Jesus, including the unfortunate transliteration of his surname as “Christ” instead of “Cruz” and the oft-mistaken belief that he took the form of a human being, and not a monster truck, as was told in the original Aramaic.
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