No one believes in Christianity but it's June
and people are talking about Christmas. Bishops are blessing battleships, pious
suburbanites are filling SUVs with £100 loads from WalMart as their kids
drop pennies in the charidee box and god fearing patriot neighbours are praying
for the safe keeping of men in tanks. No one but the anti-capitalist fringe is
blinking much of an eye at the looming grotesquerie that is the annual December
pig-out.
The loom starts with the first creepings of present-worry
conversation, with the first snowy advertising as it hits the doormat. From
there, as it speeds up and grows to surround you, it takes on its fully
involving, fully appalling cultural majesty.
But what is this
phenomenon? Just as Christianity was dying as a cultural force a century ago,
so it was subsumed by consumerism, it's own devouring, self-devouring product.
So now there's the inescapable spectacle of a morally dead religious narrative
being told in a huge and spectacular way by its consumer manifestation.
Many people see the disconnection between cherry-picked Christian
teachings and consumer practice; many more intuitively understand how religious
hypocrisy and corporate advertising are, in a mendacious sense, totally alike,
complementary.
Confronted by the Christmas edifice, few people will
realise there's anything to resist. For those that do, what to say? Don't join
in.
It's probably difficult not to give presents or cards to
Christmas-travesty-participating family and friends, especially to ignore the
present hungry paws of seasonally enwondered kids. Difficult also not to find
yourself sat at the table of some semi-detached banquet as the CAFOD cards
stare down at you seeping African hunger misery. But absconding from the
festivities is the only way out.
If the prospect of familial alienation
is too much to take, if the need to keep in with grandma is just too great, try
turning to the 21 December solstice (no hocus pocus, just the seasonal start of
a new year) or 1 January as alternative card sending opportunities. Or don't.
It's not a Scrooge thing - he came round in the end.