“Now, I don’t want to start a Jihad or anything but I have to be blunt.
Christmas is not about the Birth of Christ. Except in our fantasies and practice. Christmas is about something a lot more like the Santa Claus myth. But we have it extremely confused.
Now, if you are one of the noble souls of the world, in truth and not name, then you should realize that I think Christ is a fascinating and personal conundrum worth … something. History? Could be. It looks a bit confusing, actually. But possible. Problem is, the Angels aren’t really on about Him. I wonder why?
I have amazing feelings and thoughts about that whole mess, and what it is actually about (nothing like we pretend). I think Christianity, in its most general sense as a force and institution of culture, is (actively)
[ antieducating, miseducating, violent, hateful, rude, self-aggrandizing, hypocritical, asinine, stupidifying, psychotic, schizoid, omnicidal, mimetic, parasitic… ]
and… ironically, can — for some individuals — still become a (kind of) true spiritual path… nonetheless!
Humans are wack. But culture is … unthinkable fiction made real.
Santa is a monster. Not Satan. Santa. Different folks, folks. And so are the elves. Monsters, that is. And no one really knows what a monster is here, because around here, everyone is a monster, pretty much, and thus has to remain (mostly) blind to (most of) beauty. So they see beauty… as monstrous. And things that are monstrous… as beauty. See? Well, stay with me.
Santa doesn’t need lethal red mushrooms. His colors do not come from nature’s drugstore. If you see his colors, your head will be gone. You will not get it back.
He is not a mushroom-god.
So, Santa and the Elves, and even Mrs. Claus, (so to speak), are monsters. And you would never, ever allow them near your children, because you are busy feeding your children (and your parents, and yourselves, and Nature and the chimney) to actual monsters all dressed up as sages, prophets, and heroes. This confusing activity proceeds every moment, of every day that human culture sets up and plays out as your own bodies and minds . . . in the absence of its authentic and natural sources (without bizarre stories and religions and prisons of any kind).
Now, here’s the thing. This is always been sort of a problem. It’s just a lot worse today. And Santa is the monster sent by [ redacted ] to fight this problem. With gifts of impossible intelligence. Not psychotic cyber-psilocybinian visions. Not fractal culture effluent. Not religious geometry nonsense. No. Actual, lightning from the root of time. The relational intelligence benefit of the entire year’s efforts. The evolutionary ‘interest’ from ~3 billion years of evolution multiplied by every organism on Earth in every moment.
Not the accounting. Not the extra objects (you idiots!) — shocking (reality-warping), mind-burning forces of unthinkable insight and the most exotically nonhuman intelligence.
Living force of mind-evolution, injected directly into the root of the soul- by a source so unthinkable that our cultures would never survive its open revelations.
That… is ‘the meaning of Christmas’. It’s about the Monster from the Library. The library at the Heart of Minds. That, my friends… is where we are from. And that, is where Mrs. Clause… bakes… her ‘impossible cookies’.
Here, have a bite. There is -so much more- to come.”
— a child of Christmas.
P.S: “Oh, and Christ? He was all about this. And the Cross? It is totally related. But not in the way we pretend. This is not his birthday. It never was. Come on, people… the Christians… essentially just stole Christmas… and replaced its roots with a set of largely lethal fictions.
And we? We have to take it back. Now.”
— a child of Christmas