I won’t put the first part of that cliche in the subject line. Let’s not revisit the RSS Feeds troubles again, shall we?

“Life’s a bitch, and then you die.” A crude aphorism, to be sure, but remarkably apt. Dennis’ comment on Russ’ latest post, pretty much sums up what I would like to discuss today, the subject of death.

“My hope has always been that humans are a spirit or consciousness trapped , for now, in a limited five sensed carbon based wetsuit. The physical evolution of all life forms including human is more amazing to me than “poof” you’re created.”

As I asked Dennis, why do believers need to hear/understand/believe that human consciousness is somehow “other” than the result of the various firings of the neurotransmitters inside the three pounds of meat packed into our skulls? Because it seems as though only three measly pounds of meat should not be able to generate the complex human consciousness that exists in each one of us?

What, fundamentally, is wrong with acknowledging that all that we know is all that we are?

It is, I believe, that all-too-human fear of death. We are self-centred creatures by nature, hell-bent on self-preservation. That’s what got us from the simian stage to where we are now. To try and grasp the concept that, after our physical body fails, there will be no more “self”, that scares the shit out of some people.

OK that scares the shit out of most people. I don’t think I ever really considered it deeply enough for it to scare me. The whole “soul-sleep” theology has left me with a lingering apathy towards any thoughts of death.  So I don’t spend a lot of time thinking about self-annihilation anyway.

Human consciousness does not begin at conception, nor does it even begin at birth. Science tells us this, as any reliable baby milestones chart demonstrates. Some people will never reach full “consciousness” at all. They don’t spend time (Waste time?) thinking about the religious, spiritual, or psychological things that we debate, here and elsewhere.

Having been born and raised in a closed high-demand religious group tends to push one towards a critical examination (through a religious lens or otherwise), of exactly what it is we think. Few people extend that speculation beyond into the realm of why do we think, and how do we think, and what does it all mean. Few people need to, as they are content with their lives, for the most part, and it’s probably better to take the goddamned blue pill anyway. It’s certainly less disturbing!

But back to “life after death”: Mainstream Christianity likes to make a big deal about a literal eschaton, and a literal resurrection. Although they quibble on the number, the timing, and the exact nature of what that “resurrection” will ultimately be, they hold fast to a literalized view of it as actually happening, on a global scale.

Do I really need to point out again the thousands of years of harm and fear and greed and death this literalized fundamentalist view has brought into the world? Far better to start from the beginning, and re-examine the texts from an individual, allegorical point of view, in my opinion.

As the Valentinians may have believed (at least according to the French Gnostic church, a religious system that first started up in the late 1800s), any “apocalypse” experienced by Valentinian believers was purely an individual one. Not the fire-from-the-sky, returning-sky-buddy-gonna-beat-down-the-unbelievers-for-once-and-for-all, but an internal re-examination of one’s self. Critically determining what it is that you thought you knew, or think you know, or hope to know in the future. (Cf. 2Pet.3:10-14 for an example of this. I know I said I wouldn’t discuss “teh Bible” so I won’t link to the scripture. Look it up on your own.)

An objective examination of one’s self will absolutely reveal one’s lacks and deficiencies. Not a pleasant exercise, to be sure, but they don’t call it an “apocalypse” for nothing. If you can get past that self-examination without falling prey to literalism or fundamentalism (or trying to impose those things on others), you might (according to the Gospel of Philip, a strictly Valentinian text) actually have a fighting chance. I won’t say I agree entirely with the Valentinian texts (they still believed in the historicity of the christological figure, although leaning towards a docetic view), and the churchy stuff still makes me queasy (particularly the hierarchies). But the point of the text, for me at least, suggests that if you can fully accept the fact that all you have is all that you are (to paraphrase G’Kar from Babylon 5), and that after your physical body dies, “you” will be gone too, fully realizing that will bring you into proximity of that small glimpse of whatever-it-is within our heads, packed into the three pounds of meat inside our skulls that rebels against the notion.

That said, am I saying that I believe that I will live forever? Oh HELL No! Once I’m worm food, everything that makes up “me” will be gone. No, I take a completely different perspective on the nature of death and human consciousness, personally, one that I believe the non-canonical “holy” books from the ancient world, as well as the heavily-edited and wantonly mistranslated “canonical” Christian books, contain within them, if only the fundamentalists would have the eyes to see (and the courage to recognize).

Is the apocalyptic self-examination a one-time thing, a “lightning bolt” experience? Maybe for some people, it can be. For me, it’s more of an ongoing thing, and probably always will be. Yes, that’s right, I live constantly with my own personal  apocalypse. But keep reading, it’s not what you think. It’s what you choose to do with your self-knowledge, that realization of your own personal wrongs, ills, lacks, and/or insufficiencies, that determines whether or not you will step out in freedom — or knowingly, willingly, swallow the blue pill, and fall once more back into the blissfully ignorant sleep of religion.

Some can’t face the fact that they’re imperfect. They want to run to a sky buddy father figure that will tell them “No, you really are perfect, and you’re perfect because I say so.” They then compound this error by going on to say this sky buddy father figure they have conjured up in their minds (men create their own gods) is and was literally real, and everyone else better believe it, too, otherwise the “unbelievers” in that god are to be kicked to the curb. Exclusivism, elitism by any other name.

The real trick is facing yourself down in the mirror and not running away, or running to some sky buddy or some literalized ancient desert tribe fairy tales, or getting your newage freak on. I mean, really, regardless of what your beliefs or non-beliefs are, just get up, go, and look in the mirror at yourself. Don’t think about how much your sky buddy loves you, or how silly having a sky buddy is, just look at yourself.

How long did you manage to stay in front of the mirror? I’m willing to bet it wasn’t very long. It doesn’t have to be. It is not a state of mind that can or should be held indefinitely. But it is still a state of mind that can and should be cultivated, when you have both the time and inclination to do so. Christians might very well refer to this mindset as “rest in Jebus” or “state of grace”, but you don’t need to put any fancy names on it, to experience a sense of timelessness, of letting go of one’s worries, fears, problems and pains, of accepting that you’re just a highly-evolved, somewhat-less-hairy ape on this planet of ten billion others in exactly the same boat.

Do I believe I will “live forever” after I die? No. Can I get a taste of a feeling that approximates what my three pounds of meat inside my skull believes (incorrectly or otherwise) “feels like” forever? Sure, why not? (Without the aid of recreational and/or illegal substances, thank you very much.)

It’s not even about hoping for something after you’re dead. It’s about realizing that death really is the end of the line…..but that’s OK, as long as you are wringing every last drop of life out of the life that you have, in the here and the now. Whatever that means, for you personally.

Like the Bon Jovi song goes, “I don’t wanna live forever! I just wanna live until I die!”

Works for me.

The “Celestine Prophecy” (yeah, Aggie, I know) got me to thinking. Not about whether it’s true or not, I’m certain that at least in a literal sense, there’s no truth whatsoever to it. So let’s not get our panties twisted over *that*. But there is a message there, and it got me to thinking.

What’s the one thing all religions can agree on? And I mean all of them – other than crackpot shams such as $cientology? There is one thing. Even many atheists can agree on it. Frankly, I know of very few people who do not believe this particular thing, no matter what they believe or don’t.

That one thing is… that there is some kind of higher purpose or power that can be influenced by our everyday actions.

Christians call it God and they pray. It’s a rather silly anthropomorphizing, in my opinion, but it’s what they do, and sometimes it even appears to work. Muslims do the same thing, although their rituals are frankly much sillier. So do Jews. But also new-agers do (they believe that there’s an energy of some kind that responds favorably to good feelings or some such), eastern religions do (they call it karma), and even many atheists do (I can’t think of a word for what they call it, but I think there’s a general feeling that there’s something that’s greater than the sum of its parts, even if it’s entirely human in origin).

Basically, most people believe this. Very few don’t.

And even I have been fighting with the idea, over the past few weeks, that there’s something out there. It’s not the Christian God, because, frankly, the Christian God is a petty idiot. It’s not the Muslim God, for the same reason. It’s not the Jewish God, well.. yeah. Same reason. Maybe it’s not God at all. I think that Redfield kind of skirts along the edge of the truth somehow, as well… maybe closer than most, but got a little sidetracked. Everyone seems to have just a little glimpse of the truth, and takes that little glimpse and expands it until it takes over their life – and their growth stops.

Just a little teeny glimpse. That maybe there’s a little more order out there than it seems. That maybe we are, as people, just a little more than we seem. That maybe there is a little more to life than our petty troubles and battles. That there really is a way to fulfillment, that there really is something to look forward to.

There have been too many coincidences in my life to just completely dismiss them as nothing. But I can’t attribute them to Jesus, because if I were to do so I’d have to start to believe in something that’s been all but proven never to exist. I can’t attribute them to Allah or G-d (that’s what the Jews call him, crazy, huh?), for mostly the same reasons.

Maybe Buddha is the closest. I don’t know. But I’m finding it harder and harder to say there’s nothing at all out there. I understand those who do, really. I don’t think I’ll ever be able to bring myself to say they’re wrong. But…

I think my exploration needs to go a little further. Because I’m finding it increasingly difficult to ustify my complete nonbelief.

I’m in no danger of converting, so stop salivating, Christians. I think my explorations are going to head more towards the Eastern. It’s the only thing that’s ever made any sense to me.

Check out Pascal’s Derivative Market. Now that’s a “speculative market” I can get behind!

Of the three major legacies being children of the church have left us with, physical, psychological, and financial, I have recently come to realize just how devastating the financial part of it is, and continues to be, over a decade and a half later.

I know, there’s nothing like reading Herbvert apologetics on AW to get your morning started off on the wrong foot, right? Anyway, there’s a comment over there now, trying to whitewash the fact that our Pontiff Without Portfolio had hundreds of thousands of dollars of gold-plated cutlery, fine crystal, mansion beyond compare, etc. (at a time when, roughly compared to today, those things would have been worth millions), was not the issue. The issue was that, when Senior and Junior seized power and did an abrupt aboutface to get the Christianizing cult-watch groups off their backs, they didn’t “give the money [from the sale of church properties] to the poor”.

Excuse me? We still don’t even know how much money Junior pocketed, from the sales of Pasadena and Big Sandy. Given the multiple cruises he takes every year, and the extravagant lifestyle he still leads, I’m also inclined to think there’s probably not much (if any) of that money left. As I responded on AW, the only “poor” the church should give that money to, are those of us still suffering thanks to the legacy of first, second, and third tithes (that’s not even to mention the holy days and special offerings), taken out over the space of (in some cases) a lifetime. Or our parents’ lifetimes, leaving nothing for us.

There’s not a lot left hanging on from my childhood in the church that makes my blood boil. The ongoing and continual misappropriation of funds still makes me madder than hell. The ORM wants  to “apologize” to people the church has never even offended (You ask me, Ron (the snake) Kelly should try offering an apology to some of the “non-Israelites” who were actually members of the church, back in the day.), and all of the Christianizing “cult-watch” groups Junior’s bedded down with are patting the church on the back for how they’re making right what once went wrong.

You want to know what went wrong? Let me tell you what went wrong. If my family had not had to send in first, second, and third tithes to the church, plus every time a “special offering” was called, along with the usual holy days offerings, this is what would have been different in my life:

• I would have always had new clothes, instead of getting one new outfit specifically for the Feast, and shopping at Sally Ann the rest of the year.
• This would have allowed me to move ahead further in the public education system, and I would not have dropped out when I was in junior high.
• My parents would have been able to afford university tuition.
• I likely would have immediately gotten started in a stable, steady career after finishing school, instead of the hodgepodge my working life to date has been comprised of, in between grabbing a course here, and a course there, whenever I have both time and money. (Both of which are always in extremely short supply.)
• Financial and professional stability would have allowed me to settle in one place, probably in a new house, without the constant relocations I have made, since I started my working life. (Three provinces and counting, and several relocations in each province besides.)
• Financial and professional stability would have allowed me to save more for my retirement than I have (even when I do manage to save a little, the instability of my life usually ends up blowing through whatever “cushion money” I accumulate). Right now, I’m extremely lucky there’s not (much of) a negative balance. I am at an age where I should already have at least half of my retirement savings accumulated, by now. No such luck.
• I would be in a position to help provide for my formerly-unconverted parent, who now has nothing, especially not a retirement plan to draw from, except a measly government pension that might, some months, put gas in the car, OR food on the table. (Certainly not both at the same time.) Both of us now fall under the category of “the working poor”.

I should still have the papers with our church serial numbers on them, somewhere. I bet you any money the records at Headquarters corresponding to those numbers have been shredded. The paper trail was probably destroyed as soon as Junior took the reins of power, so the church can’t be held accountable for the millions of dollars they’ve bilked out of our parents. In the meantime, the WCG pension fund which all of my former pastards are still covered under, is making a mint.

That doesn’t sound right, does it?

I’ve been reading through the Herbvert apologetic Facebook discussion boards. (That was a mistake.) Notably, the bulk of the successful, well-educated, and financially stable individuals of my generation who I remember from my days in the church….are the former ministry’s kids.

Ordained members, you will recall, were exempt from tithing. I think the deacons may still have had to tithe, but once you hit elder or preaching elder (I forget which) you were on solid financial ground again. Which is more than could be said for those under the Gestapo’s dominion.

Oh, it wasn’t so bad, oh we benefited from our childhood in the church, oh those who are bitter just need to get over it. Thus sprach the ex-ministry kids on the Facebook discussion boards.

Yeah. Sure. You never spent every third year of seven living on Kraft Dinner and National Franks. Or, during particularly tight months (usually one with a holy day/special offering/building/emergency fund offering called for), refried rice and eggs. You ate meat and bread that was fresh, not “special price” or a couple days old. You never had parents who “embraced the health benefits of the vegetarian lifestyle” because they didn’t want to tell you the family was too broke to buy meat.

You never spent your life moving through a parade of cheap, old, “fixer-upper” houses, because “time was short” (and money was shorter). You actually grew up in the same house you were born in (you may even have been, horror of horrors, born in a hospital instead of at home), in the same neighbourhood, and you attended the same school for the entirety of your childhood education.

You take the purchase of frivolous items completely for granted, because it was never a big fight, just to buy something you didn’t absolutely require or need.

We are the children of the church, those of us who are still feeling the effects of three tithes, seven holy day offerings, and whatever “special offerings” were called (usually between three and five times a year), for all the years of our childhoods, and in some cases, right up to when we were adults.

We are the children of the church. And we are still paying for it. Literally.

That’s right brethren, today we will be discussing The Ten Commandments (mandatory pre-Passover/DoUB seasonal viewing) and The Sound of Music (the only time other than the telecast that the television was allowed to be turned on, during the “pagan holiday season”). Charlton Heston as Moses will be forever burned into my brain, how about yours? I can see why, given the subject matter, it was mandatory viewing for church members. But The Sound of Music? Just because one of the kids was a member of the cult? Yeah why am I not surprised…….Anyway onto the movies themselves.

Am I the only one who had I Will Sing to the Eternal running through my head during the “parting of the Red Sea” part of the The Ten Commandments?

I sometimes wonder what happened to the kid from The Sound of Music, though. Probably went the way of Bobby Fischer, more than likely……….

In some ways, this month has been the hardest I’ve ever endured. Mostly for reasons I can’t talk about in public (there was some wonkiness at work that the layoffs were only the start of). I wish I could feel that I’m going to come out of it with my sanity. But all I know is, that I’m going to come out of it, somehow.

But I’m not angry, anymore. Not really. Sure, I can’t stand it when religious dickheads start with their self-righteousness – I don’t think that will ever change. But I’m not really angry. Stuff happened. My past happened. I can’t do anything about it, I can’t change it, and there’s really nothing to be gained by being angry at this point.

No, now I’m just sad. A deep, profound, and almost debilitating sadness.

I suppose this marks progress. I am well aware of what the five stages of grief are, and Despair is the fourth, just before acceptance. I know that, intellectually. But… it doesn’t change reality. I’m sad.

I’m sad for what was. And I’m sad for what could have been. There are so many inflection points, so many things I look back on and think if I could have changed any one of them, how different my life would be right now. But I look back, and even knowing that, I know that things played out in the only way that they could. The way was destined before I was born – by the time I was born, the stage had been set and the band was playing its opening chords.

But what makes me the saddest is… I know, beyond a shadow of a doubt, in another time, in another reality – if nearly everyone in my life hadn’t screwed me over…

I could have been happy.

That, I think, is what hurts most of all.

I could have been happy.

This article is proof that, yes, even an atheist can celebrate Christmas. Or Xmas, as I like to think of it. A remark was made in the comments, that if only there wasn’t so much bible-beating, Christmas might not be so bad. So I offer this, as an atheist alternative, minus the crass commercialism and massive debt and greed-inspired “traditions”.

December 25 is when the days start getting longer again. Christians may think of it as the birth of their living-dying-rising godman, but it is, traditionally (in traditions far older than Christianity) the birth of a new year, the “resurrection” if you will (hah!) of the earth into the warmth of spring, after the long and cold winter.

The Winter Solstice has been marked ever since humanity has been aware enough to realize that it existed. It has been celebrated, venerated, prayed for, sacrificed to, and subjected humanity to all manner of traditions and customs and beliefs, for longer than there has been a recorded history.

Astronomical events, which during ancient times allowed for the scheduling of mating, sowing of crops and metering of winter reserves between harvests, show how various cultural mythologies and traditions have arisen. On the night of winter solstice, as seen from a northern sky, the three stars in Orion’s Belt align with the brightest star in the eastern sky Sirius to show where the Sun will rise in the morning after winter solstice. Until this time, the Sun has exhibited since summer solstice a decreasing arc across the Southern sky. On winter solstice, the Sun ceases to decline in the sky and the length of daylight reaches its minimum for three days, during which the sun does not move on the horizon. After such a time, the Sun begins its ascent into the northern sky and days grow longer. Thus the interpretation by many cultures of a sun reborn and a return to light. This return to light is again celebrated at the vernal equinox, when the length of day equals that of night.

The solstice itself may have remained a special moment of the annual cycle of the year since neolithic times. This is attested by physical remains in the layouts of late Neolithic and Bronze Age archaeological sites like Stonehenge in Britain and New Grange in Ireland. The primary axes of both of these monuments seem to have been carefully aligned on a sight-line framing the winter solstice sunrise (New Grange) and the winter solstice sunset (Stonehenge). Significant in respect of Stonehenge is the fact that Great Trilithon was erected outwards from centre of the monument, i.e. its smooth flat face was turned towards the midwinter sun. The winter solstice may have been immensely important because communities were not assured to live through the winter, and had to be prepared during the previous nine months. Starvation was common in winter between January to April, also known as the famine months. In temperate climates, the midwinter festival was the last feast celebration, before deep winter began. Most cattle were slaughtered so they would not have to be fed during the winter, so it was nearly the only time of year when a supply of fresh meat was available. The majority of wine and beer made during the year was finally fermented and ready for drinking at this time. The concentration of the observances were not always on the day commencing at midnight or at dawn, but the beginning of the pre-Romanized day, which falls on the previous eve.

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Even in modern cultures these gatherings are still valued for emotional comfort, having something to look forward to at the darkest time of the year. This is especially the case for populations in the near polar regions of the hemisphere. The depressive psychological effects of winter on individuals and societies are for the most part tied to coldness, tiredness, malaise, and inactivity. Winter weather, plus being indoors causes negative ion deficiency which decreases serotonin levels resulting in depression and tiredness.

Also, insufficient sunlight in the short winter days increases the secretion of melatonin in the body, off balancing the circadian rhythm with longer sleep. Exercise, light therapy, increased negative ion exposure (which can be attained from plants and well ventilated flames, burning wood or beeswax) can reinvigorate the body from its seasonal lull and relieve winter blues by decreasing melatonin secretions, increasing serotonin and temporarily creating a more even sleeping pattern.

Midwinter festivals and celebrations occurring on the longest night of the year, often calling for evergreens, bright illumination, large ongoing fires, feasting, communion with close ones, and evening physical exertion by dancing and singing are examples of cultural winter therapies that have evolved as traditions since the beginnings of civilization. Such traditions can stir the wit, stave off malaise, reset the internal clock and rekindle the human spirit.

The following is an alphabetical list of observances believed to be directly linked to the winter solstice.

Amaterasu celebration, Requiem of the Dead (7th century Japan)

Beiwe Festival (Sámi of Northern Fennoscandia)

Choimus, Chaomos (Kalash of Pakistan)

Christmas, Natalis Domini (4th century Rome, 11th century England, Christian)

Deuorius Riuri (Gaul) This festival is mentioned in the 2nd-century Celtic Coligny Tablet

Deygān (Zoroastrian)

DōngZhì Festival, Tōji Festival (East Asia, Vietnam, and Buddhist)

Goru (Dogon of Mali)

Hogmanay (Scotland)

Inti Raymi (Inca, Peru)

Junkanoo, Jonkonnu, John Canoe (West Africa, Bahamas, Jamaica, 19th-century North Carolina)

Karachun (Ancient Western Slavic)

Koleda, Коляда, Sviatki, Dazh Boh (Ancient Eastern Slavic and Sarmatian)

Lenæa, Brumalia (Ancient and Hellenistic Greece, Roman Kingdom)

Lucia, Feast of St. Lucy (Ancient Swedish, Scandinavian Lutheran, Eastern Orthodox)

Makara Sankranti (India and Nepal, Hindu)

Meán Geimhridh, Celtic Midwinter (Celtic, Ancient Welsh, Neodruidic)

Mummer’s Day (Celtic, Cornish, Newfoundland)

Wren day (Celtic, Irish, Welsh, Manx)

Alban Arthan (Neodruidic)

Midvinterblót (Swedish folk religion)

Modranicht, Modresnach (Anglo-Saxon, Germanic)

Perchta ritual (Germania, Alps)

Rozhanitsa Feast (12th century Eastern Slavic Russian) (search for term on linked page)

Shabe Celle, یلدا , Yaldā (2nd millennium BCE Persian, Iranian)

Sanghamitta Day (Buddhist)

Saturnalia, Chronia (Ancient Greek, Roman Republic)

Şeva Zistanê (Kurdish)

Sol Invictus Festival (3rd century Roman Empire)

Soyal (Zuni and Hopi of North America)

Teḳufat Ṭebet (Jewish)

Wayeb (Maya)

Yule, Jul, Jól, Joul, Joulu, Jõulud, Géol, Geul (Viking Age, Northern Europe, Anglospherean, and Germanic cultures)

Zagmuk, Sacaea (Ancient Mesopotamia, Sumerian, Babylonian)

Ziemassvētki (Latvian, Baltic, Romuva)

I’m sorry, what were you saying about baby Jebus’ birthday???

My point is this. We may not have gotten to experience “traditional” Christmas when we were children…….but what’s “traditional” anyway?

Regardless of how you mark the winter solstice, may your midwinter festival this year be filled with happiness, laughter, and light.

Where holiday seasons tend to get me down is the emphasis on family. I appreciate the comments left on the post about the holiday season, but truly, they only address the symptoms. One person suggested starting your own holiday tradition. Great, fine, I’m all for that. It’s a good idea.

But it’s pretty damned useless when there’s no one to share it with.

I don’t know how much of this is a result of the fact that my parents were my parents, and how much was related to the WCG, or if they just fed off each other making things ten times worse than they would have been if there had only been one of the influences. I tend to think the latter. But the simple fact is, I have no idea what a family is, and while I have some relatives plastered around places around the country, I have no real family. Nothing to call my own.

What’s the use of having holidays and holiday traditions if the most important part of the holidays are gone?

It’s true that I could enjoy the songs and lights and stuff in my own heart. And I did indeed. But I would have preferred to share them. I would have preferred to have a tree, and red and green stuff, and sing songs with my family about hope and love, not about tribulation and destruction (Blow the horn let zion hear? Assholes!). I would have preferred to put up lights and have a nice turkey dinner on Christmas day. I would have liked to open presents (I don’t care much about the presents, but the thought would have been nice), instead of having the presents my grandparents sent me sent back because “we don’t keep Christmas”. It would have been nice to be able to go outside and show some of my neighborhood friends what I got for Christmas. Not because I really care about getting stuff, but it seemed to be one of those bonding things that I was, again, left out of.

It’s not that the physical stuff really mattered all that much. But what they represented meant everything to me. Love, and peace, and kindness. And happiness. Calm. Beauty. Things that I wish with everything I’d had were a part of my life when they really mattered.

It’s a hell of a thing to rip away from a child, ain’t it?

OK, after sitting here with an open mouth at Aggie’s last post, I have a “true confession question”.

How many of you found something that looked like a lectern, dragged it outside, and screamed “You shall not keep Christmas” while pounding on it, thereby scaring the elderly neighbor lady?

Guilty.

I don’t know how I can write this… my instinct right now is to find a nice holiday movie, curl up, and get it all out of my system. But I don’t have a nice holiday movie, and tonight, I’m in no shape to go out and get one.

The last few days have been quite emotionally draining for me.  For many reasons, but two that stand out are the imminent arrival of the holiday season, and getting back in touch with some people from the Toledo congregation many years ago.

I put up a holiday tree the other night. You might have seen a picture of it, along with my intelligent and verbose open letter to the old bastard. It’s bright, and it’s colorful, and it’s pretty, and it makes me so sad I can barely stand it.

As a child, Christmas actually meant something to me. No, I didn’t care about the birth of Christ – for all the drilling into me as a child, it never stuck. I didn’t care about Santa Claus. What I did care about was that everything was red and green and pretty. The songs were beautiful, the stores were pretty, the snow was great, and the lights on the houses somehow made winter a little less dreary.

And I wasn’t allowed to partake in any of it.

I want to be angry right now, but I’m just too busy being sad.

I didn’t understand any of the crap. It was just pretty, I liked it, I wanted it, and I couldn’t have it.

And now, when I can, it’s too fucking late. Now, when the holidays should be full of nice, warm memories… I have wreckage scattered all over where those memories should be.

This is the hardest time of the year for me, and the next month is going to be hell on earth.

Thanks a lot, bastards.