Today is what we’re calling Christmas, and it snowed… if I was below pubescence I’d have been thrilled, but today I was vaguely hungover and avoiding calling my parents. Today, to use it loosely since we live on a round planet, used to be the birth of Mithra, Horus, Zoroaster, et al. Also, it was the yule, the winter solstice, and mostly the celebration of the roundness of our planet and it’s habitual movement around the sun god which was also celebrated on vaguely this day.
This year I remembered the solstice and forgot Robert Anton Wilson’s Sirius anniversary, well, I more forgot what day it was and celebrated one too late. This coming year I feel I have my deities/conspiracies/philosophies covered, save for the big JC/Christianity which I sort of left out… I feel like I dicked him over in my youth, my jubilation at him would seem shallow and the act of a reconciliatory friend who’s come back simply for a perennially great party. I’ve meditated a bunch this year, so my eastern soul should be safe, Pascal’s wager is pretty much in my hand, unless they do, genuinely, get annoyed at a polytheist; in such case I’m fucked.
So, in honor of the great feast of tomato soup I had earlier, and the turkey/ham consumed by my relatives, I hope for the world to be blessed, though in a kind of noncommittal, nonspecific, way. Happy winter carnival, we’ll see you next year if all goes well.

-The Celebratory Anthropoid