Advent is Upon Us

Lifted from Homebrewed Christianity

Oh, dear god, the season I  dread most has
arrived in full force and I’m not sure I’ll make it
till the Eve, or even the eve of the Eve, 
without punching someone in the throat.

Why? Because it’s Advent, that time of
already and not yet, and the theology nerds
won’t shut up, prattling on like nattering nabobs
of negativism, sublimely unaware that people
don’t like it when you shit on their fun.

What, pray tell, is the draw of this liturgical season? 
I’m told it’s a time of expectant waiting. 
Waiting for what? Short days and shitty weather? 
I think I’ll pass. Even Lent, the
bummer before summer,
holds the promise of a bit of warmth after it passes.

Also, I keep hearing that Advent is a time
of deep reflection. Seriously? If I reflect
deeply (or even shallowly) I might have to
look a feeling in the face. And, who
the fuck wants to do that?

You people don’t seem to understand that 
I don’t want to wait, or think, or do anything
with a lick of substance. What I
want is to eat and drink too much, sing
dreadful ditties like “Baby, It’s Cold Outside”
or “Santa Buddy”, and spend money I 
don’t have to distract myself from
the massive hole in my soul. 

Stop trying to make me think or have
encounters that hold any depth whatsoever.
I’m begging you, please, allow me to sail thru life
and
never,
ever,
have to dig deeper than the thin crust
of abject materialism and selfishness
that is the American Way.