// Winter Holidays of the Future

Winter Solstice
Luke Warkentin 

Yesterday, my team found an archaic recording from Dec. 22, 2013: “Let's go get hammered and celebrate the solstice, guys! … I'll bring the shrooms and booze! Ya, let's go watch the sun set! … We'll stay up all night til it rises again, like a phoenix reborn out of the longest night of the year … MAGICAL!” It seems these ignorant revellers were attempting to celebrate what my colleagues think is the oldest holiday, originally celebrating week-long orgies in Rome, where a slave was elected as a mock-king for a week, and then murdered. As a result, a Buddha was born, apparently, and then rocks were dragged hundreds of miles just to mark the place where the sun sets. Those Romans were probably happy they hadn't starved yet. After all, it's in the middle of the damn winter! Now, far in the future, my team and I celebrate the solstice in a modern, practical way: we go rent season 2000 of Gossip Girl and order pizza. What could be more sacred than that?

Katherine Alpen 

Through we know very little from the few files recovered after the great archive fire of 2147, and even less after the infamous internet collapse of 2164, we are fairly certain that Kwanzaa (pronounced qua-ain-zay) was a tradition celebrated by only a select few families of Asian descent in the southern region of Poland from the 1960s to 2005. The ceremony involved the celebration of the winter harvest through the skewering of fresh “fruit” onto an apparatus of nine metal posts. There has been some controversy over the proof of the “fruit” being burned over the course of seven days; however, most respected scientists deem it impossible, because carbon dating has placed the era of the celebrations as being within the time of forbidden interior burning practices as put in place by the Court of Universal Law of 1945. Also, through several dependable sources, considerable research, and considerable restorative work from renowned scientists, “fruit” has been proven as a natural substance only capable of burning for three days at maximum.

Kevin Murray
The ancient records are somewhat unclear, but judging from ancient television recordings, it appears as if devotees during Christmas ceremonies were required to spend exorbitant amounts of their currency on gingerbread – a kind of edible mortar – so they could build elaborate mock-ups of animal mangers. These little sugar houses were believed to satisfy divine sacrificial demands for a “proper barnyard ho-down”, thereby magically producing a “santa clause”; a type of mystical contract between the devotees and the god who was said to live in the gingerbread manger. As evidenced in the few religious records remaining, entitled “Amateur Night at the Apollo”, the clause states: “Anyone caught peeking at the presence under the god-damn tree will get a big black boot all up in yo’ ass!” Modern anthropology is unclear as to what this “presence” refers to, but it is clear that the ancient god was a vengeful, bad-ass, magical mofo with a bad attitude and multiple penises, which he kept warm in colourful, symbolic stockings that were hung around the fireplace. The black boot was considered to be at the heart of the Christmas blessing.

Kevin Murray

For eight days of winter, ancient Jewish people celebrated Hanukkah, a time of feasting and tiny hat wearing. In fact, the entire ritual was originally born from an elaborate attempt to get children to wear fried potatoes on their head so they would look silly, thereby offering mirthful opportunities to the elders. This tradition evolved over the centuries to become a sacred ritual in which children competed; each tried to sport the tiniest, most delicately designed potato hat. The hat that best pleased the elders’ tastes would be offered to the Jewish god with ketchup. Candles were then placed on the heads of the adults and lighting ceremonies followed. The wax which dripped on the heads of the faithful was then sculpted by the children into amusing animal shapes. When completed, the children would run away, and the parents would chase them, pretending that the waxy animal sculptures were hungry, and that they most desperately desired to eat the children’s potato hats. A good time was had by all, but the one child who had pleased the god the most was not allowed to participate in the game, as his hat was symbolically reserved. Usually, this child would cry, and the rest would laugh, thereby renewing the tradition of celebrating spiritual suffering among the faithful.

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