[Delayed crosspost from The Next Hurrah, 2005-10-23]
The goose is cooked, the ox is gored, the chickens are coming home to
roost. The kiddies are giddy with visions of sugarplums, marching
frogs, TV specials, seasonal trappings and wrappings piled so deep you
can't find the dog in the living room.
Fitzmas is coming -- all holidays rolled into one! The extravagance of
Mardi Gras plus Thanksgiving plus Boxing Day plus Purim plus Halloween
... the weightier meditations and rededications of 4th of July, Yom
Kippur, New Year's Eve, Good Friday, Memorial Day and Pesach (not to
mention St. Swithin's and Groundhog's Days, with their traditional
over-reading of omens).
Most of us celebrate the shallow Fitzmas, a fireworks-and-mincemeat
festival of over-indulgence. Sweet revenge, fat targets, overcooked
intelligence. Eat, drink and be merry, tomorrow we diet.
But I beg your indulgence for a note of perspective, a look at the
deeper meanings of Fitzmas.
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