Christmas during Wartime
12/23/2004
Something is happening. It's almost Christmas.
A bloody war is wiping out thousands of human lives. Limbs are severed by shrapnel. Lives are put out like candle flame. Children scream in the darkness as their parents die in the streets. A building, far away, is on fire, and there are people inside clawing at the walls to get out. Bombs erupt. Flames consume them, tanks roll over them. Soldiers kill and torture. Death everywhere. Shit.
We are lining up at the shopping malls to spend hard-earned money on relatives and friends. What gift will cost the least but mean the most? Such hard decisions as the cost of living rises and pay and benefits dwindle. We bend over for Uncle Sam while the Bushites carry our bound-and-gagged, half-dead whimpering body into the bowels of hell to serve penance.
My car only gets 23 miles to the gallon in the city, just under 30 on the highway going 65. It's a little too cramped for extended journeys in the back seat, we've discovered, but Disney is more than worth the trip. I love music, so I keep a plentiful supply of CDs within arm's reach.
The vision of Walt Disney provides hope to the lost and the lonely. Stick to Epcot and Magic Kingdom, folks, and avoid Toontown unless you have 3-year-olds. Everything that's happened since Walt's demise has been subpar, except for bits here and there. You have to sit through a 10-minute Kodak commercial to enjoy the spectacular 3D movie "Honey I Shrunk the Audience." What kind of crap is that? I want my money back, nearly.
The tree isn't perfect this year. We haven't hung the ornaments yet, and I'm too tired after a day's work to get involved. My CD isn't selling very well. Probably because I haven't tried to promote it much. Because I haven't had time, and because I'm a little depressed. I can't just run out in front of the murderering warmongers and tell them to stop. They wouldn't listen.
And the mailman keeps skipping my house for some reason, even though I have mail to go out. I only received four christmas cards this year, but they were great cards and I appreciate them.
A city is on fire, and there is nothing I can do but accept it.
I hop off the ride and onto the moving platform, carefully stepping up to the exit ramp. Outside, the light of day. Outside, food and drink and sustenance and hot coffee and beauty. Inside, burning cinders, death and destruction. I've been on this ride far too long. It's time to get off, cool down, try something new. Something positive.
Too many soap suds around this soapbox, anyhow. Hard to see what's going on.
posted by novachild @ Thursday, December 23, 2004,
