Ever wonder if Jesus just wants to have action on a game for Xmas?
I'm part of the crowd who has no use for people in general, and perhaps even less use for family on the holidays. I applaud marching to the beat of a different drum without apology or guilt. I won't be headed to the casino, or the bar, or even a poker room, but I do have my own time-tested routine for occasions such as these.
I'll be driving my "sleigh" (actually a '99 Ford Ranger with a bumpin' stereo, but this is a Christmas story, damnit!) and trying to tend to the less fortunate this afternoon when the rain passes, by distributing copious amounts of alcohol and cannabis. I mean, I've done my part for charity this year, but for those that don't want to go to the shelter, I can't think of a better Christmas gift than Canadian Club and fatty blunts. By the time I'm done with them, hopefully they'll have forgotten that they're homeless and simply think they're lost in the woods somewhere. They won't care about not having showered in a week, or sleeping in a tent in 20 degree weather, they'll just be high and drunk! And people say that addictions produce no good....
Then I'll prepare supper for me and the boyfriend, who thankfully makes no effort to drag me to his family for holiday celebrations. It's nice to have someone who understands your true nature. So we'll exchange our gifts in the dining room, where we can watch the sunset beneath the vast Mare Pacificum (Pacific Ocean), and then he'll head home to leave me to my favorite of my personal holiday traditions.
Most people here know I'm Catholic, I'm not sure how many are aware of the etymology of the word Catholic. Catholic is derived from the Greek (language of the early Christians) words kata, which means "about", and holos which means "whole". Throw them together and we get "about the whole" which now is understood to mean "universal". Why is this important, you ask? Because as a member of this universal church, they have to let me in to celebrate Mass whenever I show up, so long as I can stand and walk under my own power.
This is important, because for longer than I've been able to buy booze legally, it's been my personal custom to go to Midnight Mass so drunk that I'm on the cusp of my walking becoming staggering. It reached new heights back in 2001 when I got the drunken hiccups during a rousing rendition of Joy To The World and had to leave before the end of the service. I learned my lesson about sitting in the choir loft, too, because there's no way to hide drunkenness of that magnitude when you're walking down a flight of stairs in a line of other people. There was a moment there that I lost my footing and thought I'd take the whole line down as easily as a bunch of bowling pins. Then there's the little thrill that comes with sitting in a pew full of pious Catholics, knowing that for a 3 person deep radius everyone can smell the stink of Canadian whiskey on my breath, and yet they all still have to extend to me the sign of peace.
Some say it's sacrilege, to me it's like a sporting event. Midnight Mass never changes, I could recite it in my sleep. What does change, is the booze I drink beforehand, thus determining the degree of difficulty in acting sober. If this were ever to become a legitimate sport, the year I got trashed on champagne was definitely my Super Bowl year. People here are so lazy that Midnight Mass is actually at 2300h, so I'm hoping that I'll be driving my sleigh into the driveway with enough time to catch the last few plays of the Hawaii Bowl. Maybe I'll even fall asleep on the couch so that the TV can wake me up with the sounds of ESPN announcing the NBA's version of holiday cheer. Others may think it's a sad way to celebrate Jesus' birthday, but I feel otherwise.
If, as Jesus himself said, that I am his brother, I find it hard to believe that Jesus wouldn't like sports at least a little bit. I envision Jesus sitting on the couch next to me with a highball in hand, screaming for the Lakers to cover with as much enthusiasm as myself. He's been living in Paradise for eternity, why wouldn't he want to get pumped over something so trivial as an NBA spread? I think Jesus craves a little drama from time to time, and I'm happy to invite him to share the drama of my wagers.
Imagine if you will, sitting at the right hand of the seat of the Father, countless seraphim singing praises to your glory, hearing the supplications of whiny humans asking for your intercession all day long. After awhile, you just hope someone is thoughtful enough to pray, "Thanks Bro, and swing by for a drink and we'll catch the game." If I were Jesus, I'd be stoked, and I sure wouldn't turn down the offer.
Isn't that the very nature of Christmas? If we have a holiday to celebrate Jesus' birthday, then it's only decent to try to consider what Jesus himself would want to do on His birthday. Jesus doesn't want to watch people pad the bottom lines of countless retailers, seeing people get piss drunk just so they can stand each other for the one day they come together. Jesus wants some action on the games! Why else would he inspire ESPN and the NBA to put basketball on all day? People have got this day all wrong, if you ask me....
I'll be driving my "sleigh" (actually a '99 Ford Ranger with a bumpin' stereo, but this is a Christmas story, damnit!) and trying to tend to the less fortunate this afternoon when the rain passes, by distributing copious amounts of alcohol and cannabis. I mean, I've done my part for charity this year, but for those that don't want to go to the shelter, I can't think of a better Christmas gift than Canadian Club and fatty blunts. By the time I'm done with them, hopefully they'll have forgotten that they're homeless and simply think they're lost in the woods somewhere. They won't care about not having showered in a week, or sleeping in a tent in 20 degree weather, they'll just be high and drunk! And people say that addictions produce no good....
Then I'll prepare supper for me and the boyfriend, who thankfully makes no effort to drag me to his family for holiday celebrations. It's nice to have someone who understands your true nature. So we'll exchange our gifts in the dining room, where we can watch the sunset beneath the vast Mare Pacificum (Pacific Ocean), and then he'll head home to leave me to my favorite of my personal holiday traditions.
Most people here know I'm Catholic, I'm not sure how many are aware of the etymology of the word Catholic. Catholic is derived from the Greek (language of the early Christians) words kata, which means "about", and holos which means "whole". Throw them together and we get "about the whole" which now is understood to mean "universal". Why is this important, you ask? Because as a member of this universal church, they have to let me in to celebrate Mass whenever I show up, so long as I can stand and walk under my own power.
This is important, because for longer than I've been able to buy booze legally, it's been my personal custom to go to Midnight Mass so drunk that I'm on the cusp of my walking becoming staggering. It reached new heights back in 2001 when I got the drunken hiccups during a rousing rendition of Joy To The World and had to leave before the end of the service. I learned my lesson about sitting in the choir loft, too, because there's no way to hide drunkenness of that magnitude when you're walking down a flight of stairs in a line of other people. There was a moment there that I lost my footing and thought I'd take the whole line down as easily as a bunch of bowling pins. Then there's the little thrill that comes with sitting in a pew full of pious Catholics, knowing that for a 3 person deep radius everyone can smell the stink of Canadian whiskey on my breath, and yet they all still have to extend to me the sign of peace.
Some say it's sacrilege, to me it's like a sporting event. Midnight Mass never changes, I could recite it in my sleep. What does change, is the booze I drink beforehand, thus determining the degree of difficulty in acting sober. If this were ever to become a legitimate sport, the year I got trashed on champagne was definitely my Super Bowl year. People here are so lazy that Midnight Mass is actually at 2300h, so I'm hoping that I'll be driving my sleigh into the driveway with enough time to catch the last few plays of the Hawaii Bowl. Maybe I'll even fall asleep on the couch so that the TV can wake me up with the sounds of ESPN announcing the NBA's version of holiday cheer. Others may think it's a sad way to celebrate Jesus' birthday, but I feel otherwise.
If, as Jesus himself said, that I am his brother, I find it hard to believe that Jesus wouldn't like sports at least a little bit. I envision Jesus sitting on the couch next to me with a highball in hand, screaming for the Lakers to cover with as much enthusiasm as myself. He's been living in Paradise for eternity, why wouldn't he want to get pumped over something so trivial as an NBA spread? I think Jesus craves a little drama from time to time, and I'm happy to invite him to share the drama of my wagers.
Imagine if you will, sitting at the right hand of the seat of the Father, countless seraphim singing praises to your glory, hearing the supplications of whiny humans asking for your intercession all day long. After awhile, you just hope someone is thoughtful enough to pray, "Thanks Bro, and swing by for a drink and we'll catch the game." If I were Jesus, I'd be stoked, and I sure wouldn't turn down the offer.
Isn't that the very nature of Christmas? If we have a holiday to celebrate Jesus' birthday, then it's only decent to try to consider what Jesus himself would want to do on His birthday. Jesus doesn't want to watch people pad the bottom lines of countless retailers, seeing people get piss drunk just so they can stand each other for the one day they come together. Jesus wants some action on the games! Why else would he inspire ESPN and the NBA to put basketball on all day? People have got this day all wrong, if you ask me....
