Diaries from the War on Christmas
It's hard, sometimes, for a grrl to understand why anyone would care at all, what a member of an endemically pederast organization of economically non-contributing mummers in dresses would have to say about...well, anything. And don't let my hatred of the mackerel-snappers* be my only disqualification from polite society; I mock the "once He was a dolphin" followers and "I got bling for four wives" clubmembers too. Basically, I'm just brimming with hatred** for anyone too stupid to understand that religion = highly effective sociopolitical manipulation of the masses by the hypocritical elite. I'm rude like that.
Anyway, Brian is having some fun, and I encourage you to go there and leave some comments, or do so here if you like. Not that you need a refresher on the Wager, but still, an opportunity to have some holiday fun. I always, and only, have one Christman Wish: for people to live in a world where the Glorious Dead, and the Unknowable Divine, are silent and forgotten, for all time.
Just imagine what that would would be like.
Hypocritically, the Dark of the Year is coming, and that has long been one of my favorite festival seasons. People have so many creative traditions to explain this time. I wish they could've remained just pretty stories, instead of foundational narratives upon which to form multigenerational hatreds and long-running oppressions. This xmas, read/give the ones you love some sci-fi; no one has ever launched a crusade based on Butler or Tepper's work, so there's that.
* I blame Stephen King.
** Just using these words made me think of this thread, which in turn made me think of one funny comment about a bag of feces, the limit of a "brim," and English Majors...never mind.