Defenestrate Your Turkeys: November 28, 2008

In which there is no thanks at Thanksgiving.

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This morning began with cat barf — not kitten barf, which I have never seen but which I assume to be as adorable as everything else is about kittens*. No, this was all-grown-up cat barf from an all-grown-up cat, who had apparently spent a good portion of the night on the kitchen counter, licking our dirty Thanksgiving dinner dishes. Charming.

The same ironically-pronounced word could be applied to Thanksgiving, which is a holiday I hate. Actually, I hate all holidays, including Christmas, my birthday, and Secretary’s Day. In my view, holidays are just an excuse for materialism, drunken revelry, and the exhausting fulfillment of various unamusing holiday traditions such as kissing under the mistletoe, singing of carols, and public reading of dodgy Biblical histories. The key word in that last sentence is excuse; as a true-born anarchist, I resent having to give a reason for my drunken, materialistic, caroling revelries. Just take them at face value, society!

But as I was saying, I hate Thanksgiving. I hate the Pilgrims, I don’t eat turkey, and as an atheist I don’t have anyone to give thanks to. What’s in it for me? Well, lots of food, which is always nice. But what else? Just a lot of sitting around with relatives and having to watch my mouth so I don’t drop words like “defenestrate” or tell a dead baby joke. There is always a TV on somewhere, which means I have to watch football, which is boring enough every Sunday afternoon but which always seems extra-dull on holidays. And then there are the “humorous” news segments which always consist of those turkey bowling tournaments where a townful of pudgy morons crowd into an ice rink and sling dead birds into a set of pins. It is enough to make me want to defenestrate myself. (There now, that’s the kind of thing that would make the whole room go quiet if I said it out loud.)

Then again, I may be exaggerating my hatred of this holiday. It actually went quite well this year, except for the bit at the very end where someone called me at 9:15 PM to ask how to get in touch with my mother for reasons relating to her business. That ticked me off, because a) it was not urgent, so why was he calling me at 9 PM?, and b) he does realize that I am not my mother? Which means that I do not participate in her business. Because this is like calling my mother up late at night to ask if I’m available to design a site. It’s a holiday, and late in the day; go bowl a turkey until daylight tomorrow, guy.

On second thought, maybe you could go defenestrate yourself instead.

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