Friday, December 25, 2020


Not being tied into the family-friends-overeating-problem-drinking aspect of several holidays, one attempts to find new meaning and rituals to fill the blank spot. As a Caucasian person, Kwanzaa doesn't fit. And being quite irreligious, the spiritual aspect is out.

Which basically leaves Life Of Brian, and car-dealership teevee extravaganzas. Plus pizza.

My friend Rabbi Belsky posted: "Eating homemade very-loosely-inspired-by-Chinese-cuisine food with cauliflower rice and learning torah on Nitlnakht #GrinchThis "

Here we have two Jewish Christmas traditions touched upon, namely Chinese food and NOT learning Torah on Christmas, because lord only knows what the Cossacks will do.

For us goyim, the Chinese food works, and obviously if the Jews won't learn Torah at this time, then as a goy hiloni (a secular nation) it is up to us to study it.

Oh wait; unless you are Dutch, from a properly Calvinist background, one cannot expect you to have the nutzoid intellectual rigour necessary to deviate from your heilige Toyotathon customs on this day. You're watching a ballgame and suffering indigestion at this very moment, eh?

Besides, the weekly parsha is based on a different calendar than you are used to, so that too may stress you out. Please continue with teevee and gorping cheap chocolate.

I guess your stuck with your seasonal indigestion.

When I was out on the street earlier smoking my pipe it was drizzling, and almost no cars were parked in front of buildings. Given that we've been encouraged to socially distance and avoid gatherings this Christmas, I'm guessing that my neighbors are, for the first time ever, trying to study the parsha (Vayigash, last week was Miketz). They all went down to the library. Where else could they be?
Personally, in that I am determined to not pay any attention to the holiday, I'm passing the hours till tea with some light reading. And a late lunch: fried rice, turnip cake, egg, vegs in curry, and a grilled bratwurst. Sambal on the side.
Plus cookies.
I don't know. Not being vested in Christmas, or Toyotathon, today has little meaning. And I will be glad when the hoopla is over. Bratwurst, curry, and an egg have more significance.
The time to enjoy a pipe and some tea is nice.

The accepted iconography and music of the season are attrocious. Moderation is not part of the programme, but a certain level of anomie and angst, unfortunately, is. At such times trying to vest the events with import move to the front burner, and, if necessary, lending strength to others facing the "holiday" alone.
Next year, another bratwurst with curry and sambal.
Followed by another pipeful of Virginia.
No Bing Crosby whatsoever.


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