Ho-ho-ho and season’s greetings from your old pal, the Morning Star.
There has been some controversy lately about the term “Season’s Greetings”. Christian conservatives are pissed off that the emphasis on “Christ” is fading away from their holiday.
I love that shit.
They created me, or more correctly co-opted me in order to keep your butts in line, at first. Now, I keep you standing in line so that the wheels of commerce keep spinning. The game has changed, and they are just a bunch of bitter crybabies who didn’t see it coming.
Allow me the vanity of a little history lesson. When Christianity was ascendant, the church became the most powerful institution in the western world. In order to keep the faithful in line, they created me. It was a genius move, really. On one hand, the flock was told that their old beliefs were heresy. On the other, elements of those beliefs were used to create a bogeyman, an antagonist, a demon. It was a good system: easier to adopt by virtue of its roots in their tradition, minimal expense to market, extremely effective from a psychological standpoint, and it all helped the world’s largest business to keep growing.
The date for Christmas was chosen to replace the pagan high holiday, which was the festival of the winter solstice. It would be a tough sell to get people to give up their year-end party in favor of a new religion. Better to co-opt the existing party and make it bigger and better than ever. Just another example of better marketing through faith.
"And that no man might buy or sell, save he that had the mark, or the name of the beast, or the number of his name...
... and his number is Six hundred threescore and six."
(- Revelation 13: 16 - 17)
I am nothing if not opportunistic, and it was clear to me where the action was. I took that marketing model, ran with it, and took this party over. While examining my roots in folklore, Jeffery Burton Russell summarized it nicely in "The Prince of Darkness (Radical Evil and the Power of Good in History)":
“The Devil comes from the north, domain of darkness and punishing cold. Curious connections exist between Satan and Santa Claus (Saint Nicholas). The Devil lives in the far north and drives reindeer; he wears a suit of red fur; he goes down chimneys in the guise of Black Jack or the Black Man covered in soot; as Black Peter he carries a large sack into which he pops sins or sinners (including naughty children); he carries a stick or cane to thrash the guilty (now he merely brings candy canes); he flies through the air with the help of strange animals; food and wine are left out for him as a bribe to secure his favors. The Devil's nickname(!) "Old Nick" derives directly from Saint Nicholas. Nicholas was often associated with fertility cults, hence with fruit, nuts, and fruitcake, his characteristic gifts.”
What? Don’t act all surprised. Part of you knew it all along. That part of you that doesn’t believe in all that fire and brimstone bullshit. I was conceived as the ultimate marketing tool, and took the game to a level they did not foresee. The church arrogantly believed that I was a tool who served at its pleasure. They never saw me coming.
I know a thing or two about pride, people. Of “The Seven”, it's my favorite.
Doubt me? Take a look around. I am everywhere this time of year. Sitting in the mall with your kid on my lap, stoking his greed (which runs a close second to pride, in my book). My plastic effigy is standing guard on your neighbor’s front yard. I am on napkins, neckties and 12-packs of Coke®. You got a warehouse full of “Made in Taiwan” to move? I’m your man.
I moved on, left their church behind and established my own. Not that Church of Satan crap. That was just a goof that some baldheaded loser named LaVey set up, to give himself an air of mystery and get laid. There was no real money in it.
They say second place is the first place loser. Amen and hallelujah to that, brothers and sisters. My church is still the biggest company in the world, but it’s not the Christian church anymore. It is Wal-Mart. My cathedrals span from coast to coast. Step inside and you will see me in every aisle, selling Christmas with a smile. Take a look at every package you see. Right there on the bottom. See that UPC code? Every single one uses three sixes to mark its beginning, middle, and end:
I know it’s a little corny, but I am a sucker for symbolism, and it is all about me after all.
Want to have some fun? Come over here to the P.A. and watch me start a stampede. "Attention Wal-Mart shoppers. We have a special on holiday spirit in aisle six, and it is selling cheap."
