Jangle bells, jangle bells, jangle all the way…

Around this time every year our minds are drawn to the remembrance of a Man that has bought happiness and light to our world. Millions of people around the world, fuelled by their faith, look forward to this with a mixture of gratitude and anticipation. Some, of course, do not believe. However they usually participate in the celebration despite their lack of faith.

Those that have lived virtuous lives know that blessings will be bestowed on them while those who have sinned wonder what their fate will be. While we cannot actually see the great Man we can go to our version of churches and see His representative and ask for His blessings. Yes, we remember Santa Claus each and every Christmas.

Of course most of us grow up and know that Santa is just a myth, a bit of childish whimsy. However, many do not, and continue to hold onto beliefs of a bearded being in the firmament gazing down on our day-to-day lives. What is it with these non-atheists? When they are not thanking their version of a god for helping to win a sporting event, or beseeching on bended knee for some never provided intervention, they will spend a fortune on ghostly “portraits” impressed on toasted cheese. (Heads up, non-atheists: no one knows what Mary actually looked like.)

Now non-atheists are trying to foist their infantile beliefs into all aspects of our lives. They even have the temerity to tell us what to wear. Some cults have their women covered from head to foot in fabric, others have a little fabric place mat pinned to their heads, others merely don a cloth usually reserved for sacks.

The sickly amusing thing about non-atheists is they believe, and in fact this is the scary bit, that they are … wait for it … right. Holding this view they then aggressively or coercively try to infect others with this absurd world view.

So what do non-atheists seem to have in common? Well, many of them have an obsession with genitals and some form of mutilation; all of them are terrified of sex; and all just love a ritual. This can be hitting a bell, lighting things, swallowing stuff, not swallowing stuff, looking up, or head down and bum up. Oh - and very important - suffering from terminal seriousness is a necessary part of the deal.

Did I mention terminal uniqueness?

You see, for the average non-atheist, they seriously think their version of god, lord, prophet, master, goddess, creator is keeping a watch: a personal scrutiny of their lives. (Some sects believe this has been delegated to beings with wings growing from their spines, but let’s stay with the big picture.) Now when shit does happen, as it invariably does, the non-atheist sees this as either:

1. a lesson;
2. a test; or
3. a punishment brought down on their heads by the lofty one.

No wonder most non-atheists take everything so personally.

The fact is there are six billion people on this planet, and the fact it is not always about “you”, does not seem to get through their faith veneer.

I just want them to leave me alone. Whatever book you believe to be the truth, whatever personal epiphany you had while riding your donkey, keep it to yourself. Don’t mess with the education system; don’t tell me how to behave; and don’t call me someone who is with Satan or some other anthropomorphised bad boy entity.

It’s really quite simple. Be nice, be kind, be generous. Why? It makes you happier and that’s all there is. So this Christmas time let’s give each other gifts and eat too much because it’s a laugh. That’s it.

Now, let's talk about chocolate eggs and resurrection.