The Winter season is upon us, at least according to the Gregorian calendar; I’m still using my air-conditioner, although, thankfully, the fractal peace associated with the silent, geometrically irregular season of anticipatory slumber is still extant… if one travels far enough from the city’s bustle to experience the remaining limited natural resources available to those of us who still enjoy merely sitting outside in an introverted stillness that is totally dichotomous to the mindless idolatry of ubiquitous spasmodic Capitalistic superfluity that has become associated with the usurping reason for the season—silently listening to the orchestration of the wind through the crinkly leaves of skeletal arboreal shepherds sans the incessant buzzing of insects, chirping of birds, and the full-throated encroachment of bellowing frogs… the innate understanding of cosmic verity at its most intensely sublime.
Looking back upon my prepubescent associations with Winter and the more reward-influenced connotations of Christmas during my formative years, I admit a narcissistic interpretation based on a querulous insistence in a benevolent elfin benefactor from whom I could amass a bounty of needless baubles and trinkets acquired solely to satisfy my immediate desires. I’m quite sure that I am not the only child to ignorantly misinterpret the fundamental reason for celebrating the romanticized virginal birth of a major religious icon. It is, however, a shame some of us never alter this egoistic vision but instead embrace a non-sustainable and puerile acceptance that the main yet unintended influence for this seasonal celebration is urgently connected to unfettered Capitalism—that social encouragement to stimulate our national economy by purchasing disposable, cheaply-made goods and services made possible through the modernized slavery of the sub-bourgeois workforce supplemented by an errant belief that terrestrial resources are boundless and that these resources can and should be exploited even at the cost of planetary destruction. It is a coddling philosophy that embraces and justifies greed at its most base, humanitarian level; it encourages a blind acceptance of privilege as not only deserved but earned within a Sardanapalian fostering, nurturing, and adapting of religious and moral dogma to aggressively pursue illimitable cupidity but to also direct culpability of far less morally stringent acts of dishonesty to the extremely penurious who lack the power, skill, or motivation to fight against it. It just doesn’t seem right, to me, to put so much economic pressure on poor people to celebrate Christmas thusly. Maybe it’s the unconscionable image of Santa’s giving luxury automobiles adorned with a ridiculously huge red bow to rich people while too many planetary citizens of lesser means anxiously wonder if they will ever eat a hot, nourishing meal again.
In recent decades, there has been an importunate, supercilious “war on Christmas” plangently waged by shallow people whose collective voice is far greater than any cerebral capacity to use it effectively… or morally. This litany is nothing new; it has been fostered throughout our nation’s history, which has its foundations built on the shifting sands of ambition’s exploiting free labor from slaves and migrant workers (Irish, Chinese, Mexican, et al), and this debasement of human character is now seeping into the castigation of global citizens who follow religious dogma that differs ever so slightly from Christianity or from the abused poverty of third-world cultures that cheaply assemble together technological innovations very cost-effectively under perilous circumstances. These are the same people who seem to embrace the horrors of War as long as it represents their myopic religious ideologies; quite simply, they approve a political foundation based on theocracy as long as the accepted religious ideology centers on Christianity. If, however, the theocracy centers on Islam or any other theology that differs from the dozens of versions of Christianity, then War is not only acceptable but the preferred method of oppositional removal. I’ve heard too many of my associates proclaim that the person who dies with the most toys wins, and they spend most of their adult lives indentured to a progress of hoarding wealth for retirement and justifying it on moral grounds. They errantly believe that their path of Life is not only emulous but the only ethically correct option. The plangent mantra of “war on Christmas” has become a reproaching against this myopic pursuit of future paradise at the cost of living life to the fullest each and every day… including the days of one’s young adulthood when one dreamt of becoming an artist, writer, poet, or lead vocalist for an acoustic Irish band. But this outcry is only noise; it saddens my greatly that, for some, it supersedes the peace and love that should represent the season.
This “war on Christmas,” as spouted by stringent conservative rhetoric, never reproaches the obvious obstacles to the desired images of falsely idolized religious identity that they wish to connote, such as the sheer animalistic barbarity of “Black Friday” or the fact that our collective nationalistic sensibilities are incessantly bombarded with materialistic motivations to purchase highly priced luxury items to effectively demonstrate our lust for someone or something else and that these suggestions begin inundating us the very day after Halloween, not to mention the ubiquitous Christmas music used by egoistic managers of wealth to subliminally suggest excessive stressful seasonal consumption. The true conflict that arises during this season has nothing to do with animosity against the natal celebration of Jesus but against the economic cupidity of unrestrictive Capitalistic frenzy… the majority of the querulous whining is merely sad people orally projecting their personal failures onto a flock of sheep who would much rather ruminate by chewing and re-chewing regurgitated cud instead of ruminating serious matters of cognitive concern.
Life is not a right; it is not a privilege; it has never been guaranteed; it can’t be… regardless of what anybody thinks. We humans are all destined to die, and it is of no concern to any post-terrestrial jurisprudence how effectively or to what degree we choose to live our lives, so if anyone feels destined to live the life of Riley in retirement after sacrificing her dreams in order to accrue substantial future surplus throughout her early adulthood, then she is, at best, merely ignorant, or at worst, a fool. Life is temporal, a metaphoric hour upon a stage full of sound and fury yet signifying nothing; although, Life is also a gift, a special exclusively terrestrial gift we should celebrate each waking moment. The Universe is not concerned with any human individual; if one chooses to dedicate her entire adult life establishing and increasing her material worth through Capitalistic indenture simply to assure a brighter future, then she’s lost the game. Ignorance of living is no absolution of culpability; you are not worthy of any type of reward merely because you’ve chosen to pursue the path expected of you, by whomever, especially if you’ve disregarded your adolescent dreams to ensure a never-promised brighter retirement. There is no war on Christmas but on the childish way many choose to celebrate it.
Peace Through Music
Winter Solstice 2015