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Why Saying “Happy Holidays” Proves that You’re a Child of Satan

Published December 5, 2012 by April Fox

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You know what sucks?

People wanting you to be happy, but not expressing it in exactly the way you think they should. Seriously, there’s nothing worse than exchanging cursory pleasantries with another person and having them wish you well in totally the wrong way.

It’s that time of year, folks. Peace and love, joy and hallelujah, all that mess and egg nog too. (Which, by the way, makes me vomit, so please don’t try to convince me that it’s delicious and I’ll like it and I should really try it again, for real, it’s great. It’s not great. It smells precisely the way it did when I puked it all over my grandma’s breakfast bar when I was 3, and I’m quite certain that it tastes the same, too.) Anyway, by peace and love and joy et cetera, what I really mean is a bunch of crazy people fighting over the latest battery-operated hunk of trendy obnoxiousness and getting pissed off because other people–and corporations, even–have the audacity to spew disgusting profanities such as… wait, wait. Herd the children out of the room, folks, and if you’re faint of heart, you might want to quit reading because this is some SERIOUS LANGUAGE… are you ready?

Okay, don’t say I didn’t warn you: People are out there telling other people–in public!–“Happy Holidays.”

That’s right. “Happy Holidays,” rather than “Merry Christmas.” How fucking offensive is that? We celebrate Christmas in America, not “holidays.” Next thing you know, you’ll be trying to tell us that Christmas is a holiday, like those other days with all the candles and the multiple days and the Anti-Christ and such. From there, it’s not a far stretch to saying that “Merry” and “Happy” mean kind of the same thing. And from there, folks, utter chaos. We live in a country where it should be assumed, without question, that every single person we encounter is of the Christian persuasion, or if not Christian, they at least have the good sense to celebrate Christmas and not one of those ungodly other days. One of those damn holidays, as they like to call them.

I know in some places, folks would be happy to hear a pleasant greeting, regardless of semantics. People might actually mistakenly assume that “Happy Holidays” meant something nice, something kind, something along the lines of, “Hey, whatever you celebrate, I hope you’re happy doing it.” And that, dear friends, is just WRONG. Around here, complaining about someone saying something nice to you doesn’t make you look like a big jackass, no matter what anyone else says (all those heathens with their “logic” and “compassion,” am I right?). It makes you a fine, upstanding American, a good Christian who knows that neither of those things have a got-damn thing to do with diversity or kindness.

Everyone knows Jesus is the Reason for the Season (no really, it has nothing to do with the Earth’s tilt on its axis or anything, you know, scientific like that) and Jesus was all about forcing everyone to acknowledge the holiday that his esteemed followers jacked from the Pagans, slapping his name on it like some cheesy “NEW AND IMPROVED!” sticker on a bottle of cheap detergent. I’m pretty sure it says in the Bible even (right after the part about God hating homosexuals and being down with protesting funerals) “thou shalt not patronize a discount store in which the employees speaketh such sin as ‘Happy Holidays’.”

So for all of you like-minded folks out there, I wish you the opposite of this nasty phrase: a most unhappy holiday. And for those of you with a bit of sense about it, I wish you happy holidays, merry Christmas, blessed Yule, happy Hanukkah, Kwanzaa, and whatever else you might choose to celebrate in this month of–yes, I’m going to say it–holidays.

Amendment One

Published May 9, 2012 by April Fox

i feel as if
amendment one
is being read by the light of a bulb
shining through the skins
of my family, friends-
my children.

how can you cry your careful,
scripted tears over the loss of a life
not yet started
and tell the child before you
that his life means less than yours?

pro-life, and yet you spit
your prejudice and bile into the faces of your neighbors
fight to take away
their right to life

how easy is it for you to waste your righteous hours
combing through the verses in your book
tossing bits and pieces into piles by the side
over here are things that we’ll ignore
over here is where we make the condemnation pile

you gossip in the grocery aisles
while you shop for pork and tampons
maybe lobster for the anniversary of when you stopped
fucking behind the back
of the god that you adore

dip your razor in the baptismal pool
round the edges of your beard
shave your scalp clean
watch your faith fall to the floor

wine-drunk in the mornings
cannibalizing christ and if his body was inside you
you would see where you are wrong.

slave-owner, whore
if i were bible-bound like you
i could whip you while you cleaned my floors
then sell you for your meat
so your body could be violated
like your conscience must have been.

Hypocrite

Published April 6, 2012 by April Fox

This time of year tends to bring out the holier-than-thou in a lot of religious folks; I’m fortunate that I don’t experience it much within my own circle of cherished people, but it’s definitely out there and I see enough of it that it makes me kind of ill. I used to write a lot about this stuff, and then I got all happy and started writing more about that, but apparently the old attitude is still around. If you’re a person of faith and don’t try to shove your beliefs down my throat like a drunk on a two-dollar whore, you’re awesome. If you’re in the other camp, the judgmental, hypocritical “Christians” who, were they to encounter him today, would look at Jesus as a scruffy, dirty, liberal, socialist prick, this is for you.

when the lord passed around all the
cautions, the thou shalts, the judge nots and
love thy- and posted his one holy son at the altar of
humankind, walking through whore streets, cavorting with
tax men and
derelicts
homeless folk, barefoot and ugly
where were you standing?
slack-jawed and stupid, soaking up only the things that you wanted
the good bits sloughed off like dead skin in a mud hole
you carry your bibles like armour to ward off the logic
the notion that doing right
might be enough and you cry out
BELIEVETH in he that has made you
believeth, and ye shall be saved
from the horrors you’ve made for yourselves-
absolution.
i can do all things
i am imperfect
i am a sinner, abject, inherent
nothing can stop me from doing wrong, i am a failure in god’s eyes but i can be
saved
by my faith
enter heaven’s gates, bloodied and rape-bruised
my fingerprints branded on soft skin
and memories
i can do anything
saved in his name
the holy ones
kneel down
receive your host
effigy savior goes soft in your mouth
spit out the bitter taste
wipe your lips clean
beleiveth
and ye shall be saved.

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