Happy Completely-arbitrary-mad-scramble-to-prove-to-strangers-that-you’re-not-as-desperate-or-lonely-as-you-feel Day!
Here’s what I’m NOT doing this Valentine’s Day:
Here’s what I MIGHT do this Valentine’s Day:
Love is hard work you guys.
Which is why I’m so grateful to have you in my life, faceless stranger reader this.
Things may get pretty hectic Internet, but you know how I really feel.
Children, avert your eyes!
I know Halloween is supposed to be scary all about spookin’ kids and summoning forth evil, but this is going too far.
Happy Smallpox-Blanket Day!
Condolences all around. Today is a day of mourning. It is also a day of celebration, commemorating a narrow victory over an unsuspecting continent, honoring a kindness and compassion that Western Civilization has yet to return.
But who gives a fuck about that, am I right?
Yes, this holiday, like most of its brethren, is nothing more than a thinly veiled excuse to cancerously consume everything in sight. Which is of course, all too fitting. For all the talk of humility and family and similar puritanical virtues, today amounts to a paean, not to gratitude, but to obesity, and of course, one day later, to capitalism. Raise a glass! To gluttony!
But wait. There might be a slight problem here. Are you human enough to be a little bothered by your ancestors’ bloody legacy, but American enough to just want to get your grub on? Do you want to savor your set of nesting matroshka carcasses, but can’t get the taste of genocide out of your mouth? Do you prefer your gravy guilt free? Then for those select few of you, please, indulge me in a quick (revisionist) history lesson:
You know how to make a movie where the Indians win? You take any old western, and you run it backwards.
If it’s true that history is an agreed upon fiction, than ours is the most gruesome horror story ever told.
Now that we that unpleasantness out of the way, let’s get on to “giving thanks.” There are a few things I’m genuinely thankful for:
- I’m thankful a thoughtful, well spoken man I actually respect is going to be disappointing me for the next 4-8 years.
- I’m thankful for never having to think about Sarah Palin ever again. Except for when I do. Because she won’t go away.
- I’m thankful that while I am the poorest person I know, I’m not the poorest person in the greater Los Angeles area, statistically speaking.
- I’m thankful I have somewhere to go, something to eat and no pending federal indictments, statistically speaking.
- But the thing I’d be most thankful for? A rewind button.
Sadly, that is not to be and we might as well make the most out of an unfortunate situation. So go ahead, enjoy yourselves. Watch some football and if you get tired of that, watch some apropos episodes of Gilmore Girls. Or The O.C., if you’re so inclined.
By all means, eat, nap and be merry! Just try not to lose sight of the true spirit of Thanksgiving.
By far the least offensive of the widely celebrated American holidays
I had a brilliant, if a bit ghoulish, yet delightfully simple idea for a costume this year:
- A noose, a bandana, and a Pomona or Amherst sweatshirt, tennis racket optional.
Too soon?
I’m a generous guy; if I had friends or someplace to go we could even coordinate:
- A bottle of Jack Daniels, some heroin (real or fake, whichever’s easiest), a guitar, and a knife through the heart.
- A glass bottle of milk, a loaf of bread and some sort of portable oven.
- An old-fashioned dress with pockets stuffed full of rocks, maybe a prosthestic nose and a soaking wet wig.
- A full white beard, an electro-shock therapy machine, a sword and/or fishing rod, and a shotgun.
- A flannel shirt, a dirty blond wig, more heroin, a guitar, and a shotgun.
- A white Stetson, oversized glasses, perpetual cigarette dangling from the lips, several buttons of peyote (possibly fashioned into some sort of crude necklace, again real or fake), a typewriter and a
shotgun.45 caliber handgun.
Oh well, there’s always next year. Besides, with the state of the world the way it is, I’m sure there’ll be at least one new costume for us in 365 day’s time.
But seriously folks, Happy Halloween!1
- Nightmares courtesy of Wil Wheaton [↩]
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