Christmas is like a politician: all promises but a liar in the end. While there might be gatherings and good wishes and fond regards, I can’t say that I am buoyed by any of these facile exchanges, given our on-going state of affairs. As for the songs, lights and trees, we all know where all of these things end up. That just leaves the presents, the bags of things that the wealthy can exchange in excitement and glee. And the extravagances that the not-so-rich can’t afford but have been indoctrinated to believe they must have to find happiness. And then there’s whatever left for all of the rest. And so, yes, you will have to forgive me for being so rude, but: “Fuck Christmas.”