A new movie is coming out called Krampus.  If you are unaware, Krampus is kind of a Christmas devil who punishes bratty children.  If only Krampus were real.  Alas, he is just wishful thinking.

In the interest of full disclosure, I am not much a fan of the Christmas season.  I used to be.  This was when I was a small child and all I had to do was open presents.  How happy I was, tearing into the colorful packages that had arrived in the night thanks to a breaking and entering elf.  The fact that this magical being had me under constant surveillance the year over was not disturbing.  I was, after all, a good boy, surely worthy of any gifts bestowed upon me.  But this idyllic time was not to last.  For I was to learn a couple of lessons in the years to come.  The first is that my parents were liars.  There was no surveilling elf and never had been.  The second is that Christmas is really nothing more than a slick marketing campaign designed to make a brainwashed materialistic society even more materialistic.  Hasbro was not my friend.  And never had been.

The truth is that there is no longer any reason for Christmas.  At least in this country.  When was the last time you heard a parent say that the child would have to wait until Christmas for something?  I’ll tell you.  It was a long, long time ago.  If a kid wants something, mom or dad go online and- with a twinkle in their eye and credit card in hand- out the child’s demand goes.  Three day later, a surrogate Santa, also known as the FedEx guy, brings some Christmas cheer to the spoiled little moppet.  Except that it is Thursday, May 19.  Oh well, at least they really appreciate it.

It’s not that I don’t want to enjoy Christmas.  I do.  But it is so irritating.  You have to travel all over creation, spend money like a drunken sailor, and listen to kids complaining because they like their brother’s jersey better than the one you got them.  Never mind that you spent one hundred and twenty dollars on a shirt the kid was going to wear twelve times and then grow out of and that you had to acquire by wading through an army of pinched face holiday zombies wearing long boots and too much perfume.

Speaking of toys, whatever happened to Nerf balls.  I was happy to get one.  They had pretty cool commercials.  Parents liked them because they generally bounced off of things like lamps and windows.  I suppose you have to interact with another person to use one.

Anyway, I have promised my wife that this year I will have a better attitude toward Christmas. As you can see, I am probably lying.

Like my parents did to me so long ago.

I also hate getting the stupid tree.  Especially because now I have to cut the damn thing at a tree farm like some BMW driving tourist.  It is an indignity, I’ll tell you that.  The next thing you know I’ll be caroling with people from the neighborhood, drinking hot cider and wearing a long scarf around my neck.  I might as well buy a top hat and go around saying “Top o’ the mornin’ to ya’ guvner.  Inin’t it a very merry Christmas?”

I wonder if Krampus likes cookies.  If so, I’ve got a whole box of oreos calling his sinister name.