Some said it wouldn’t happen. It couldn’t. The sky was falling, the end was nigh. Yet, here we are, another year gone by and we’re still here. As awful as it may have been, the Apocalypse has not happened, and the Sweet Meteor of Death has not claimed us yet. I choose to take this as a good thing, at least for today.
So as is my Christmas tradition, a video.
Someone will complain about this. For discussion of the complaint, because no, you’re not the first to do so, see last year’s Christmas post. Or there’s always the pink button on the sidebar if you need immediately solace.
That someone will complain, someone will find something to make into a problem, to misinterpret, to say something mind-numblingly fucking idiotic about, has become ubiquitous. I would like to think people are not made stupider by reading SJ, and yet some of the reactions, here and elsewhere, inform me otherwise. There is nothing sufficiently funny, benign or profound that it won’t give someone reason to take offense. This may be some people’s heaven, but not mine.
Skink suggested to me the other day that I’m in the doldrums. He even thoughtfully sent me a gift, a coloring book, “Calm The F*ck Down.” Dr. SJ saw it as a sign that I needed to stop writing, that it got me too worked up and even readers thought I needed to chill out and let it go. We ended up arguing about it, because I was wrong. Gifts are great.
But for all my efforts, here and elsewhere, there isn’t much to show for it. It’s not about kind words from readers, or the generosity of a the tip jar, but that the messages haven’t accomplished much. If anything, the sounds emanating from pseudonymous young lawyers are increasingly strident and shallow. Worst of all, they’re witless.
Today, however, is Christmas, and even though it may not be my holiday, it’s always been a wondrous day to me, where peace on earth and goodwill toward man has prevailed. So I prefer to close my eyes and hear only the sounds of bells ringing. There will be time enough tomorrow for this to be unfun again.
Maybe Skink and Dr. SJ are right, but since he didn’t send me crayons, I have no plans to color today, inside or outside the lines. There will be no second, substantive post today, as the one I started to write was decidedly un-Christmas-like, and upon realizing where it was going, I chose to trash it.
This is a day for happy thoughts, and I didn’t want to be a bummer. I could have written a happy post, I suppose, but as deep within me as I searched, I couldn’t find one. Not today. The best I could do was delete what I had written so it wouldn’t burn the eyes of anyone who read it. I don’t want to do that to you.
But we’re all still here, despite predictions to the contrary, which means there is still hope. Merry Christmas, everyone.
A Christmas Miracle, 2018 curated from Simple Justice
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