Holiday Cheer (or lack thereof)

Oh, the holidays. The special time of year when B-list celebrities put out horrible Christmas albums and everyone pretends that small children sitting on a over-aged, over-weight stranger's lap is totally not creepy. It's the time of year when Hallmark movies tell us that the holiday spirit can save us from our abusive husbands and alcoholic daddies. Yet, I've recently come to notice that there's something ingenious about this time.

It seems that during these days, everyone is dutifully obligated to put on a farce of happiness. For one season, we are told to pretend we do not fully detest those with whom one is with. Oh, of course, gifts are given, but only to those to whom it is assumed the gift will be reciprocated. We have put so much meaning into the gift itself and the whole "aura" of the holidays, that we have become puppets of joy. Puppets who do what is normal and what is expected from claymation Christmas movies.

Of course, there are those exception to which my gripe does not apply-- those true moments when we give to who we care and the effort is appreciated. I am not saying that I hate the holidays, nor am I saying that our materialism is the fall of humanity. All I would just like to convey is that we can not wrap our apathy and irksomeness in a pretty bow and call it holiday magic.