Maybe pink guns are the answer
The word is out: The War on Christmas is over. I’m unclear whether it was surrender or a ceasefire, but by consensus, Christmas has won, in fact, so overwhelmingly, it has, as Jon Stewart noted, wiped out Thanksgiving. Black Friday has given rise to Black Thursday Night so much so the NFL evening game is facing stiff competition.
The twelve days of Christmas has increased exponentially to six weeks. The traditional turkey meal has now become a pre-Christmas shopping ritual, akin to the pasta dinner in which we runners indulge on the eve of a big race. Trampling fellow Americans to secure the latest Apple product takes carbs, lots of them. So, it’s nice to be able to bulk up with an extra helping of mashed potatoes.
The Thanksgiving shopping madness, once a female-dominated event, now is seeing male interlopers storming the barricades to get their hands on the best steal, which is helping to incite real violence. Threats are mere words in the hand-to-hand fracas.
So it goes.
The War on Christmas was a phony war from the start drummed up by talking heads at Fox. As such, it wasn’t much of a war. Other than Black Thursday Night and Friday casualties, no one has died unlike in real wars in which people really do die. Still, as wars go, it was fun to watch, sort of like the Hogan’s Heroes version of World War II.
The best Christmas story for my money arose during a war…The Great War, which is what they used to call World War I before World War II came along and proved to be greater, if one quantifies greatness by massive, horrific death.
It took place in 1914 when German and British soldiers braved “no-man’s land,” venturing forth to exchange gifts and good wishes and to play a little football. By 1916 all that peace on earth to men of good will went to hell in a hand basket as onward those Christian soldiers pressed to annihilate the other in the name of God and King or Kaiser.
So it goes.
“Peace on earth”—we say it, sing it, and pronounce it, but never really desire it. What would Luger, Remington, Glock, Winchester, et al do if real peace on earth really happened? In that world bad guys are essential characters. Without them, their market would collapse. So, in a sense, the bad guys are their necessary heroes.
Sports analyst Bob Costas drew the fire of the Yosemite Sam types when he stated the obvious during a halftime show: The dead Kansas City Chief player and his girlfriend—a murder/suicide tragedy—would likely be alive today if there weren’t a gun in his possession.
Outrage ensued from the gun lobby, with a coordinated full-court press by the same talking heads throwing yellow flags and yelling Costas politicized the game by speaking truth. Ironically, had Costas spoken out on the stupidity of drinking and driving, which a week later led to an untimely death of a Dallas Cowboy player, one can imagine the righteous nodding of heads applauding Costas’s statement. Amen, brother.
A couple of weeks ago an eighth-grade girl began an online campaign to get Hasbro, the maker of the Easy-Bake Oven, to produce ovens not in girlie colors, but in neutral ones. It seems her four-year-old brother loves to bake, as I do, and would love for Santa to bring him one except for the fact that if his friends saw him using not an almond-colored but a pink oven, he’d be totally embarrassed.
Even at the age of four the male ego is most tender.
That story along with the Costas uproar got me to thinking: What if we required all firearms to be made from pink metal loaded with pink bullets? Not some macho rose-pink color ties men like Speaker John Boehner wear, but a pretty-in-pink, girlie pink.
Imagine…What real man would be caught dead shooting another with a pink gun? He would be mortified with his buddies laughing him to death. Failing that, he could be executed by a firing squad, using girlie-pink rifles and bullets, of course.
Peace on earth: It’s not really something that demands hard work. It simply requires letting go of ego, power, anger, and righteousness and rising above fear of the unknown.
And that Prince of Peace many revere and worship ought to be indeed an embodiment of peace and not a projection of base human attributes.
As John Lennon sings, “Imagine…”
In this holiday season, wishing you peace on earth.