Festivus: A holiday invented by Frank Costanza, a character on the hit 1990s sitcom Seinfeld. Its symbol is the aluminium pole. Traditional Festivus activities include the Feats of Strength (typically ending with someone in tears) and the Airing of Grievances (also often ending in tears).
While I have erected a Christmas tree and shopped for things people don’t need and participated in the Baruch Atah Adoni-ing and lighting of Hanukkah candles, I haven’t an aluminium pole. This year has felt like a Feat of Strength so there’s that. All I have left to accomplish is the Airing of Grievances. Buckle up.
Facebook posting of disgusting images. Bugs unearthed from human bodies. Dead deer posed to appear as if they were delighted to have been slaughtered. Recipes involving Velveeta. Abused animals. Taylor Swift’s eyebrows. Where the fuck is the decency?
Buzzfeed quizzes. One was entertaining. Two were silly, but okay. Three or more means you don’t understand how the internet works. You don’t have to punish us all by posting all of your results on Facebook? Lord. It’s like pooping or masturbation. Everyone does it sometimes, but we don’t need to read about it every single time.
Life hacks. Life is supposed to be complicated, weird, and difficult. And sometimes a toilet paper roll is just a toilet paper roll.
Denying injustice. If you’re doing this, you need to experience a little yourself. That usually brings people around.
Politicizing everything. I heard a guy at Kroger accuse a woman of being a crunchy, tree-hugging Jesus hating liberal because she had the temerity to ask where the Greek yogurt was. “What?!” he screamed. “Isn’t American yogurt good enough for you?” I rushed to her aid, tossing her the Black Cherry Chobani, hitting him with my bag of organic apples and informing him that Jesus was a liberal.
The Marshmallow World. Thanks, Target. Way to ruin a song. Also, you’re not helping my desire to cut the demon sugar from my diet because just the word marshmallow turns me into Homer Simpson.
Shaming of today’s youth because they spend too much time indoors staring at screens. Oh sure, you played with sticks and ran around barefoot and got spanked and you turned out just fine. And today’s kids are horrible because they have iPhones and tablets and video games and never suffer any punishment? Spare us. Ten year olds aren’t issued AmEx cards. They don’t ride their bikes to the Verizon store to purchase their expensive, sunshine and fresh air-depriving toys. Their parents won’t let them ride their bikes out of the neighborhood for fear of strangers snatching them.
If today’s kids are a mess, it’s our fault. We’ve failed them not the other way around.
Corporate media. We broke up a couple of years ago, but that hasn’t lessened your influence on the world and hence me, damn it. Stop frightening people. You’re making us impossible to live with. We fear each other, hate each other and believe that corporations want what’s best for all of us. We’re dumber, poorer, sicker, and more hateful. Congratulations. You have a wretched audience. That must feel awesome.
Faux country music. Did you just sing Hey, girl again? Put down that Bud and climb on down from that tailgate. Dolly Parton wants to deliver a nice, ring-encrusted punch to your nutsack, bro.
Posting items to social media without vetting them or even reading them. This is so simple. Read the article you’re linking. Check its date. Google can provide an assist in not looking like a moron. So can Snopes.com. So says the woman who repeated the Jay Cutler fired hoax article, but hey, I didn’t post it for all the world to see so I can still wrap myself in this swell fur of sanctimony.
Pharmaceuticals. I listened to the book STATION ELEVEN and one scene contained a description of a young woman going cold turkey off Effexor, the anti-depressant I took for over two years. I flashbacked to achy joints, brain blasts and the frustration of counting out capsule granules to wean myself off that poison. It comforted me to know that my experience wasn’t just my imagination. If that author could so accurately describe those reactions, it must be true. We’re pumping these chemicals into our children’s bodies (guilty as charged) without much thought about how it will all end.
Oversimplification.
Pumpkin, pretzel, and other food fads. No more pumpkin spice toothpaste, pretzel bread waffles, or kale. Shut up and let me eat my two tablespoons of coconut oil in peace.
Taking umbrage at the wishing of seasons greetings and happy holidays. As long as no one is tacking on you asshole, you really should just get some perspective. The person wishing you happy holidays or seasons greetings is being inclusive not insulting. I wished someone a Merry Christmas and he thanked me for “saying it right.” I repeated myself with a huge grin. “Merry Christmas, you asshole.”
Bad Grammar. Spoken is bad enough, but if you are lazily reposting shit on Facebook that has grammatical and punctuation errors, it is time to reevaluate your life.
Death. You’ve shown up too many times this year. We’re giving you 2015 off.
Pictures of your cat on the internet. This is said while standing in front of a mirror. Also, this is not a euphemism. Although it could be.
Potato chips. What are they putting in them now? Meth? I spent my first 48 years jonesing almost exclusively for sugary treats and now I’ve become a craver of the salt and grease? Life is so unfair. And while I’m at it – Wheat Belly, Wheat Brain, and this horrible Wheat Cellulite. I’m paunchy, stupid and dimply. Hawt.
Dystopian anything. Please stop. You’ve got me considering the benefits of becoming a Prepper and I doubt I could last a day without my Roku. I consider my pour-over coffee pot roughing it. The best place for me at the end of the world will be ground zero.
Social media in general. Clearly, I need to walk away, but then what? Talk to my family, my boyfriend, my co-workers? Sit for 45 seconds at a stoplight without being entertained? And what about seeing things simply for what they are instead of imagining them with a Lo-Fi filter and tilt shift? I’m getting hives.
Jerks who want to dictate what should and should not be on social media. Yeah, I’m looking at you, Lisa.
Me. I’m the biggest problem I have. I’m in my 50th year and can’t pull it together. I hope to spend the next 50 years not crashing about like a mental and emotional ox and instead do some good, let go of ridiculous expectations, be less insecure and judgmental, more direct, and relaxed.
The truth is I’ll settle for becoming less bothered by grammatical errors and year end lists.
Your turn. Let loose.
Lisa H Golden 