That’s the sort of question I like to ask on Christmas. I don’t really observe the holiday for the religious aspects. There’s roughly zero chance that Jesus was actually born on December 25. Isaac Newton was, but Jesus was probably born sometime in March or April. That’s when you’ll find shepherds in the fields, watching over their flocks by night, not in the middle of December, when the sheep are mostly kept in the barn.
The truth is, the only reason Christmas is on December 25 is because the early Church couldn’t get the people to stop celebrating the Roman Saturnalia, which fell on that day. This was celebrated with parties, gift giving, and orgies. Roman orgies were legendary, though, truth be told, they generally tended to be a lot more about eating and drinking than sex. The wild sex angle was largely Church propaganda, trying to make pagans seem “evil,” because they would “give in to the base desires of the physical body.”
I never really understood that. Fundies seem to think that body and spirit are two entirely separate things, with completely different agendas. The spirit aspires to elevated thoughts, pure and serene desires that center on God and Jesus, while the body just wants to corrupt itself. Okay, the body wants to enjoy itself, but it’s the mind, which is where all conscious and unconscious thought resides, not in some symbiotic “spirit,” that tells the body what to do.
I’ve known a few fundies who honestly believed that, if Adam and Eve had behaved themselves and never eaten that fruit, God would have found a way for them to reproduce that didn’t include anything as horrible and messy as sex. My mother thinks that way. It’s always been sort of a joke between me and my brother, Sam, that, since there are three of us kids, it seems very likely Mom and Dad have had sex exactly three times, and probably didn’t enjoy it. You’re not supposed to enjoy it, according to Mom. Uncle Ralph, Dad’s brother, once told me he was very surprised when she married my father, because “she’d have to fuck her husband, and she was saving herself for Jesus.”
Usually, on a holiday, I’d have my brother over and fuck his brains out, but he’s married again, and they’re off to an unnamed theme park in Florida to commune with the rodents. Instead, my friend Sarah is coming over. We expect to open presents (I buy my gifts from Vibrators.com), sit around my apartment naked, and eat each other’s pussies until we can’t cum any more. A basic, traditional holiday, in other words.