As this past weekend’s Lights Fantastic Parade showed, it is officially Christmas time in Carbondale. The pretty, shiny lights are shining pretty. Pulliam clock tower is chiming a popular Christmas hymn (until, of course, the ACLU steps in to protect all the non-Christian citizens who are having their civil liberties revoked by being forced to listen to it), and the bars are offering up their Christmas specials an absurdly blasphemous irony to be sure.

As a college newspaper columnist, it is sort of my job to be a cynical smart ass. But not this time. This time, I’m not going to be cynical about Christmas, the topic of today’s column.

Despite what our contemporary society has done with the holiday, Christmas is pure. And regardless of what religion you might adhere to, you cannot argue that fundamentally Christmas provides a reason to celebrate. The Creator of the universe sends his son to Earth to save humanity from itself. Whether you believe this or not is up to you. Regardless, it is a lovely idea.

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So I won’t be cynical about Christmas itself, because the concept behind it is beyond cynicism. However, I do have some problems with some of our modern-day interpretations of Christmas gift shopping and the Christmas tree.

The thing about Christmas gift shopping is that you have two sets of people for whom you’re buying gifts. You have those you actually want to spend money on, and you have those you buy a gift for because you don’t want to get your butt kicked. Spending money on people you genuinely like is fairly simple. Spending money on people we wouldn’t visit in the hospital is a strange but existent policy, to be certain.

There you are at the mall, surrounded by 125,000 people with screaming children attached to each leg, and you’re trying to remember Chet’s waist size. You don’t care for Chet. Chet makes a pass at your girlfriend every time he comes over, and he always eats your cheese. But you’re going to buy a gift for him. Why? Because you don’t want to get your butt kicked.

Maybe not a literal, physical whipping. But certainly an emotional, guilt-fueled assault. Because there is nothing worse than receiving a gift from somebody when you know there’s nothing in the mail from you heading to his house.

And they will make you feel guilty.

It will be spring break and you’re on the beach, surrounded by attractive members of the opposite sex and the person you didn’t get a Christmas gift. The person will say something like this:Man, that ocean is huge. Sure holds a lot of water. Kind of like that aquarium I bought you for Christmas.

And you can never wear something they gave you around them.

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Oh, you’re wearing that Superman shirt I bought you for Christmas. As you can see, I’m wearing that Mr. Invisible shirt you gave me. You can’t see it because it’s invisible, so I guess it’s still working.

Another thing some people are too worked up about the Christmas decorations. A few months ago I was watching television, and there was a commercial advertising a Christmas tree standing device that apparently kept the tree from falling down. This was all well and good, except the commercial ended with the phrase, Finally, the way Christmas was intended.

The way Christmas was intended. As if every Christmas for the last 2,000 years has had one fundamental flaw, and this tree-standing device finally has fixed this flaw. The commercial made me speechless.

First of all, there were no fir trees in Bethlehem.

Second, the idea of the Christmas tree came centuries later when church leaders tried to convince pagans to celebrate the holiday.

Bishop One:The druids won’t celebrate Christmas. What should we do?

Bishop Two:We need to make them feel comfortable about it. Perhaps we should implement their zest for nature worship.

Bishop One:How about a fir tree with popcorn around it?

All right, I’ll admit the popcorn came much later but you get the idea. The Christmas tree-standing device is not 2,000 years too late. In fact, the commercial was about three months too early. But, I suppose you have to plan ahead.

So in conclusion, Christmas is good some modern implications of Christmas are borderline freakish. Until next year (providing I get rehired), have a safe and pleasant holiday season.