I am too busy to do much blogging. Just wrapping presents with my old, thick arthritic fingers is a trial (Oh, if they could talk! The fingers, I mean.) Soon, I will be wrapping up the year with the same thick fingers.
I hold one thick finger up to all those who sort of believed the nonsense of the alleged Maya prediction of the end of the world to have taken place yesterday. No, it’s not a middle finger, it’s worse. It’s the index finger of “I told you so.”
For those of you who are not familiar with Christian culture: We prepare to celebrate the birth of a Jewish kid named Issa who had to drop out of high -school. First, he became a carpenter then he began talking non-stop, telling people around him to shape up. It seems he could read quite well. He knew his holy books inside out.
To commemorate his birthday, we give each other expensive presents not related to anything at all.
Incidentally, Santa Claus, although he bears the name of a saint (Saint Nicholas), is not a Christian anything. Like almost everything else, he is a marketing invention.
The Christmas tree is a transparently a pagan, per-Christian custom from Germany related to the winter solstice.
For a while the Pilgrim founders, the English settlers of what became later the US, outlawed Christmas celebrations because of their pagan character precisely.
Plus I have gone back to editing what I think may well be the last draft of my memoirs:
“I Used to Be French: an Immature Autobiography.” Ask for it if you wish.
Have a good Christmas all and all.