I’m a Jew, so why do I care about Christmas? And the eve before the eve of it all? Truth is, I don’t. I mean I care, but not about Christmas. I care about the Christmas spirit. The giving and loving and full-feeling that comes with the all-around jolliness (and food) of the time. There’s just something magical about believing. Whether it be believing in a world where there exists a fat, jolly old man with eight reindeer that pull him around (is that slave labor?) or in a world that is full of love and wonder (you have to believe before it is real, right?) it feels good to believe in something. I still believe that they will bring back Galaxy High. It was a really great cartoon.

So, here are some lines o’ lyrics that make me think about current events, love and even war. Think of it as food for thought on eve of the eve before Christmas. Food for thought before the big chow down. Lessons from Whitney, George, Axl and Brett.

1. The children are our future, teach them well and let them lead the way. Hmm..with the recent news that Jamie Lynn Spears is going to have a baby at 16, I wonder what the future of our future looks like? Young mothers who think there’s nothing cooler than having a baby might soon realize you can’t return them after ninety days. Perhaps this is a trend, and young, dumb (and not in an intelligence measuring way) and pregnant will be the wave of the future. And since these YDP girls want to start the future now, they’ll keep popping out babies to keep the future growing strong. I mean, having a baby at 16 isn’t only about having a child, which by the way is harder to care for then a cabbage patch kid, it’s also about having a new best friend. And for some teenagers, isn’t that what life’s about? Best friends forever?

So, when do we stop teaching abstinence only in all 50 states?

2. Sex is natural, sex is good, not everybody does it, but everybody should. Especially those repressed right wing, closeted folk named Ted and Larry. Just get on with your life, admit who you are and embrace the cock.

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