Consumer Brainwashing and Christmas

Any holiday that is celebrated in the home acquires its own traditions through the years. There are many such traditions connected to Christmas and many memory associations from childhood as well as other significant points in our lives.

Marketing, alas, plays a rather large part in the sights, sounds and even smells of the Yuletide season. If one pays attention to details, one can see that ornaments and other decorations used to trim a Tree as well as decorate a home change from year to year and decade to decade. Items considered essential suddenly may vanish from the marketplace and a tradition thereby is broken forever.

The silver icicles that once graced almost every Tree now have disappeared from the shelves of every market. I suspect this was due to environmental concerns, but I do miss them. Trimming a tree with icicles was quite an art, and I can recall how my mother instructed me in the right way and the wrong way to use them. One had to take only three or four at a time, make certain each was quite straight, then place each strand carefully on a branch of the Tree to hang perfectly.

Rather to my horror, when I trimmed a tree with another family one year, I saw that they simply THREW handfuls of icicles at the Tree! Mixed with the horror was more than a little envy though, at the fun they were having. Trimming the Tree in our house was an art and an almost sacred trust. One had little or no freedom where certain basic rules were concerned. The smallest ornaments were placed on the top branches and the largest on the bottom branches. As a young child, I saw all the efforts I had made to place a few ornaments on the Tree corrected by an adult, usually my mother, who carefully removed and repositioned each. (Sad to say, I was told by some one recently that it is not fun to trim a Tree with me. 'Nothing I do is right!' the individual protested. 'You always change it afterwards anyway.' What can I say? I was schooled well... but trimming a Tree OUGHT to be fun! Perhaps I need some re-schooling in this tradition.)

Whatever the method by which the icicles were added to the Tree, they apparently no longer exist at all. They were very pretty, as light as feathers, making them flutter with the slightest breeze, reflecting the lights of the Tree. When the icicles were added, the entire Tree appeared to shimmer with light. I loved the magic of that. Still, they probably were a nasty element in terms of Nature's ability to process them once discarded.

Fairy lights have changed over the years but still are fundamental. Where once they were large bulbs of the same size as nightlights, they now are tiny little points of light. This year, however, I saw some 'new' larger bulbs that resembled those used by my grandmother on sale at the market, being advertised as 'environmentally' more sound than the little ones.

Each year, there is something different on the market. Delightful tiny red birds decorated with real feathers were being sold everywhere a few years ago, but cannot be found now. During the same period, tiny red apples were sold and like the birds, now have vanished from the shelves. Blown-glass ornaments in every conceivable shape and form, dismissed as 'old-fashioned' by my mother's generation, now have become popular again.

Even the Fairy at the top of the Tree changes shape and design. There was a time when the Fairy was replaced on the market by a 'star'. I am not certain what is most fashionable now. The Fairy who presides over the Christmas Tree is one ornament that remains constant in my home.

In any case, the purpose of this post is not to muse over the fickle fortunes of Tree ornaments but to confess how completely I myself was brainwashed by the market.

When I had my own first Christmas Tree, I bought a 'stand' from a local shop for it. The stand basically had pins that would hold the Tree in place. One tightened the pins against the trunk of the tree.

It was a very large Tree and one afternoon, I was startled by the sound of breaking glass. The Tree had fallen, and many of the exquisite porcelain ornaments on it had broken. In my excitement at having my first BIG tree, I had spared no expense, buying ornaments that I hoped would become part of my own Christmas tradition. (Some of those ornaments still are in my possession, but they now are held together by glue.)

I vowed never to use THAT stand again. When I asked 'experts' what they would recommend, I was advised to purchase a stand that consisted of a strong metal spike. Bore a hole into the trunk, insert the spike and it would be far stronger than the pin method...

All very well and good as long as the person from whom the Tree was purchased remembered to bore a hole into the trunk.

This year, I arrived home with my fairly modest tree only to discover that no hole had been created in the trunk. I tried the DIY method, using a combat knife to whittle a hole into the centre of the trunk. It was extremely exhausting and after an hour or so, the hole remained far too shallow to be of any practical use.

The tree would not stand by itself. Even when I cut a hole in a box and wrapped blankets round the trunk inside the box, it only stood after a fashion and looked horrible.

If any one reads this, he/she probably would think me an absolute idiot not to have realised that a very simple, old-fashioned solution existed. In fact, not only did I fail to think of the solution but at least a dozen people who witnessed my predicament likewise did not think of it either.

What that means is that we have been so brainwashed by marketing that some of us cannot function if a ready-made solution is not offered in the marketplace!

The old ways usually are the best but a friend who is hundreds of miles away was the only one to suggest it to me. Take two boards, nail them together in a cross, then nail the Tree to the cross! Aside from the apt symbolism, it is the strongest base a Christmas Tree could have.

Fortunately, there were some boards in the garden. Although plastered together by ice, I was able to work two of them free and they now form the base of the little Christmas Tree which STANDS at last!

It is humiliating to realise that I, who spend so much time uncovering secrets in video games for my strategy guides, did not think of the obvious solution to my Yule Tree crisis. Furthermore, I pride myself on being an individualist who cares more about my own instincts than the current market fashions. Nonetheless, I had been brainwashed into belief that only a 'professional' stand could be used in this situation.

I had a little Epiphany of sorts as I nailed the Tree to the Cross. It was very satisfying emotionally and spiritually to MAKE my own stand and to interact with the Tree, covering my hands with sap and dirt, partaking in the ancient sacrifice that represents the sacrifice of the God and the promise of rebirth. The Tree that is cut and adorned with the 'fruits' of life is an integral part of the ritual of rebirth that occurs on Christmas Eve. Yes, it is ancient and pagan, blessedly pagan. It is the Tree of Attis, of Osiris, of Dionysus, but it is the Tree of the Christ as well. It is the old Asherah pole. (I believe as well that it is a symbol of the same ancient rite that is represented by the 'Alam of Abbas.) We recognise the Sacrifice and in doing so, partake in it both as the one who wields the blade and the one who is cut down. In this context, it is interesting to note that the old Northern rune Gebo is in the form of a Cross, and represents the 'Gift' both in terms of the one who make the Sacrifice and the one who IS the Sacrifice.

Those who purchase artificial Trees complete with decorations have a more difficult time connecting with the essential mystery of the season. It is not impossible. After all, a symbol is empowered by the significance attached to it. Even so, the scent of pine needles, the sticky sap that is so difficult to remove from the hands and the roughness of the bark is all part of the experience of the Sacrifice. The Evergreen that retains its life through snow and ice is cut down in its prime, then honoured by being trimmed with lights and ornaments that represent all the things in life that we hold dear. Ironically, this particular Tree was one of the smaller ones I ever chose, intending to do less trimming than usual because of physical problems. And yet, I have accomplished something very physical with boards and nail, and the price I paid in terms of physical pain afterwards was worth it. I have participated in the Sacrifice personally, and my own paltry suffering is nothing compared to the God who dies in order to be reborn to renew the life of the Earth. My Christmas Tree is, by virtue of the mystery it represents, a glorious little Tree.

O Christmas Tree, O Christmas Tree...

In the Western world, the Christmas Tree is almost as central to Yuletide celebrations as the birth of the Divine Child and the appearance of Father Christmas. For me, it could not BE Christmas without a Tree. One year, when I was very poor, the best I could do was to find an evergreen branch to decorate. Another year, on Christmas Eve, a lot was giving away the trees that had not sold and I dragged one home almost literally at the eleventh hour.

This year, I realised I neither could carry nor decorate a tree of any magnitude and severe ice storms made it impossible for me to make a visit to the nursery early. It was on Thursday that I finally was able to go to the nursery for the tree. Few remained. Certainly my vision of a live tree was crushed by reality. All the live trees apart from those that remained firmly rooted in the ground had been sold. Early cold weather had ensured safety until Spring for those that remained in the ground. All that remained were a few cut evergreens and none of those represented the perfect image found on greeting cards. The tree I brought home was more than slightly imperfect, with a rather large hole in one side where no branches had grown. Furthermore, the man at the nursery had carved too large of a hole in the bottom of the trunk and the tree listed dangerously to one side after I set it in the stand. A long struggle to pack the hole sufficiently to enable the tree to stand proudly upright ensued.

I then realised I had no lights, having chucked out my tree lights last January after taking down the Tree. They had lasted quite a few years, but had become completely unreliable. No longer are lights made to withstand the assault of time, or to allow easy replacement of a single bulb.

Another day's delay in the trimming of the Tree as I had to go to a local shop for fairy lights. Now, two days before Christmas, the Tree has been trimmed with lights and a small number of decorations. The Christmas Fairy or Guardian Angel was the first to take her place at the top of the Tree as always. As this is rather a small Tree, she almost dwarfs it, but it would be unthinkable to replace her with a lesser being or any inanimate object.

My struggles with the Tree certainly do not deserve a post, but perhaps my thoughts while trimming it do. One of my first thoughts was to transform the imperfection of the Tree from a negative aspect to a positive one. Upon reflection, there may be two reasons to praise the imperfection of a Christmas Tree.

Nature's Trees are not symmetrical as a rule. Branches grow towards the light, and left to their own devices in the wilds, trees will have trunks and branches that are bent and irregular. What is a Christmas Tree after all but a symbol of Nature that is brought into the house, welcomed and revered for its Natural qualities? The scent of the sap and needles is evocative of the season. The promise of eternal life is conveyed by the Evergreen quality of the Yule Tree. An artificial tree, like a statue of a god, is nothing more than a symbol or substitute of the reality. I cannot comprehend how any one can be satisfied by an artificial tree IF real ones are available. In regions of the world where evergreen trees cannot be found, artificial trees make perfect sense, but everywhere else, a real evergreen has power that no artificial tree, however beautiful ever could hope to embody.

For those who think that the act of cutting a live tree in order to bring it into the house for the season is a waste of a living organism, I would respond that it is a Sacrifice and thus has great meaning and potency. The Tree stands in the place of the Sacrificed God, a promise that Death is the portal to rebirth. If the Tree did not die, life could not be reborn.

The Winter Solstice always has been a time of contemplation of death and hope that the darkness of Winter will bring the world to Light in the Spring. The death of the Evergreen and the rituals that surround the Christmas Tree are potent for Christians and non-Christians alike. For the Christian, the Tree represents the Cross upon which the Christ will be nailed on Good Friday. For the non-Christian, the Tree itself is the ultimate Sacrifice and represents the World Tree, from which all Life depends. Nuts and berries originally would have been placed on the Tree as symbols of the bounty of life. Coloured glass balls replaced them for the most part, and yet the symbolism is the same.

As usual, I have wandered from the point, which was to find a positive meaning in the imperfection of my Tree. The first was to be reminded that Nature does not conform always to human ideas of perfection but must be respected in all her natural glory. The second was something I noticed today, while hanging ornaments in the gaps between the branches to attempt to balance the appearance of the Tree. I realised suddenly that the imperfection of the Tree gave me more opportunity to display the ornaments. A Tree with thick, balanced branches would not require any decoration, but my Tree did!

As I unpacked the glass ornaments this year, I realised that glass in its fragility and delicacy is a very appropriate material for Yule tree ornaments. That which is fragile must be protected and special care must be taken to preserve it from year to year. In some way, it is apt because life itself is fragile and delicate. Happiness too is fragile...

There are those who purchase new decorations each year for their trees and decorate the Tree with a 'theme' that changes from year to year. In our family, however, as in many homes, the Tree represents the history of the family. Each ornament tells a story and represents either a specific moment or the giver. Some are more beautiful than others. Some better exemplify my own taste but each is valuable and each decoration belongs on the Tree.

On my Tree, I hang a few particularly lovely gift tags that accompanied gifts through the years, usually from my parents. The old-fashioned German paper and heavy cardboard tags with their gilt edges to me are some of the most glorious Christmas images and it seemed appropriate to add them to the Tree decorations. With their handwritten messages, they have special significance and remind me that, wherever I may be, my family's love is with me.

At the same time, I am glad that I have my own Tree and have created my own traditions through the years. As much as I miss my family and would love to spend Christmas with them, I am happy that I was forced by circumstance to develop the strength to create my own home and my own centre of being.

My Christmas Tree now represents a fair part of my adult life, although much is lost perforce when one moves from place to place and continent to continent. Even so, I have a few ornaments that evoke memories from other times and places and people who no longer walk this earth. Loved ones who have died are represented on my Tree. In fact, one prized ornament in the form of an embroidered cloth Unicorn is worth its weight in gold to me. The giver never had money nor security but managed somehow to give me a special decoration for my Tree one year when my own life was fairly difficult. That friend died very young and the unicorn evokes both joy and sorrow now.

Yet, is that not the very symbolism of the Christmas Tree, to recognise that the gift of life is purchased through death?

One year, we had a Tree that reached almost to the ceiling and it was decorated with very valuable porcelain ornaments by Lennox and Waterford. While a child of two was napping, the tree fell to the ground with a resounding crash, shattering more than a few of the ornaments. The child never has forgotten the drama of being awakened by that sound! (Nor did any of the adults.) At the time, she told one of the adults, 'I will make new ornaments for the Tree for you. I will make them from paper so nothing will break the next time the Tree falls.'

The child understood the tragedy inherent in the drama and wanted to 'make it all better' somehow. At the same time, she did not realise that the falling of a Christmas Tree was an unusual event. When she spoke of 'the next time the Tree falls', she was speaking from the vast experience of being two years old. In her own memory, Christmas Trees fell crashing to the floor... (From that year forward, any Tree that tall was tethered with invisible wire to a post if necessary to prevent that drama from occurring ever again.)

Whenever I hang a paper ornament from the Tree, I recall the year the Tree fell. It was this, in fact, that made me realise that glass and porcelain ornaments have special value because of their delicacy. In the same way that favourite memories must be protected and preserved, glass ornaments must be given particular care. Those that survive year after year are endowed with special worth. One marvels in fact to know that a glass ball that looks as though it would shatter at the lightest touch has seen many years of service on the Christmas Tree.

The Christmas Tree is central to Yuletide for me, but the creche is magical as well. My creche is not part of my own family's history but belonged to some one else. About five or six years ago, an old man who lived in the neighbourhood died and his best friend cleared out the house and held a jumble sale of the items his children did not want. All items were sold at the same price, which was minimal.

I was walking home from the market when I came upon the display on tables outside the house. To my surprise and delight, I saw a large, handmade wooden creche on one table. I asked if any figures had been found for it and the man told me that there were some, that he had placed them in a box somewhere and, if I were interested, he would give them to me with the creche. I bought the creche without looking at the contents of the box. It was an extremely hot day in July, as far from thoughts of Christmas as one could be...

At home, I opened the cardboard box and was amazed to find a complete Italian Nativity set dating probably from the 1940s or 1950s. None of the figures was chipped or otherwise damaged. It saddened me for a moment to think that this creche had been part of a family tradition for decades that summarily had been swept away by the man's death. His children had not cared enough to spend any time with his possessions before deciding to consign them all to a jumble sale.

Their loss, however, was my gain. I vowed to treat the creche with the reverence it deserved and to set it out each year not only in a ritual of my own but in continuation no doubt of a long tradition in some one else's family. Oddly enough, it resembled a creche that my family had when I was a child, long replaced by something far more elegant and fashionable...

Christmas, like any other significant festival, does not belong to one person or one family but to every one. Even when we are alone, we can participate in the collective joy of the season. I spent one Christmas alone in London and it was fairly grim in some respects but on Christmas Eve, I was able to attend Midnight Mass at the Brompton Oratory. No King nor Queen could have had a better Christmas Eve celebration than that. Now my memories of Christmas are joined by that magnificent experience... like life itself, joys and sorrows, loss and gain are intermingled. The threads are united and woven into a rich tapestry that is composed of all the memories of the season of Yule.

Yuletide

It is not yet New Year, but one is confronted by the depressing sight of Christmas trees tossed out as rubbish for collection, to be dragged to the dump and there laid not to rest but to rot alongside all manner of discarded dreams and nightmares.

Does any one in this country know the meaning of the 'Twelve Days of Christmas' or when those days occur? I was dismayed to overhear a radio commentator on the 18th announcing that 'We are continuing with our countdown of the Twelve Days of Christmas' as if it were somehow related to the twelve last days of frantic shopping BEFORE Christmas.

The First Day of Christmas begins on Christmas Eve and the Twelfth Day is 6 January, otherwise known as Twelfth Night. Christmas Eve celebrates the birth of the Divine Child and Twelfth Night celebrates the end of the long journey of the 3 Magi or Three Kings. On Twelfth Night, it is the visit of the Three Kings that is celebrated. In England, it is known as Pancake Day. In other traditions, cakes are made with a bean inside and the person who finds the bean is crowned as 'King of the Bean' (or Queen as the case may be) and chooses his/her partner blindfolded. The custom is descended from the old 'Lord of Misrule' who was allowed to reign over the Year's end. It is all a matter of balance: Darkness with Light, Winter with Summer, Birth with Death.

All forgotten, alas, in the commercial insanity that has elevated Hallowe'en to the greatest consumer festival of the year and has made Christmas follow hard on the heels of All Hallows Eve. Sweets for Trick-or-Treat are supplanted by sweets for Christmas stockings on the 1st of November now.

Festivals are supposed to be sacred days, time that is set apart from ordinary time. One cannot create a sacred day unless one separates it from the other days. When one is bombarded constantly by commercial reminders of an upcoming festival, there is no anticipation any longer, no time to savour the idea of the festival rather than being forced to wade through an endless procession of advertisements.

What can one do?

I for one took out the Gamecube and loaded Animal Crossing into it. Having done that, I set the clock to 24 December and spent about an hour pulling the vast number of weeds that had proliferated since I last visited my home village of Asgard. I performed this humble, back-breaking task in a festive mood, however, as all the trees were ablaze with coloured fairy lights and the distant sound of sleigh bells could be heard. I began to feel it really WAS Christmas Eve finally. Snow was falling gently as I continued to pull the weeds in every square of my village. It was sunset when I completed that task.

I went home and made certain that the Large Festive Tree was set in the centre of my parlour. Unfortunately, a few pesky cockroaches had infiltrated the place in my absence, so I had to deal with THAT embarrassing reminder of my neglect before I could enjoy the beauty of my well-appointed mansion again.

At 8.00 p.m., the official Announcement: A special message to you all: Happy Holidays!

I knew then that my efforts had been worthwhile. Jingles had come to Asgard!

I left the house and proceeded to search for the magical reindeer. Now that the town no longer was choked with weeds, I really was able to enjoy myself. I went from square to square, over the little bridge that separated my house from those of my neighbours and down the hill towards the Wishing Well. A few Animals were out, and I made certain to greet them, enduring their reproaches for having been away for months. Some of my neighbours actually pretended they didn't recognise me at first.

Finally, I spied a red suit and hat and ran to greet Jingles the Reindeer.


Jingles: 'Happy Holidays! I'm Jingle, the black-nosed reindeer! Aren't holidays wonderful? Tell me the truth: you love it for the presents, don't you? Just look at all this snow! It's a white winter! How romantic! But I've got a lot of work to do, so I don't have time to socialise right now! I'm supposed to deliver all these presents to good children all over the world! I love my job! I deliver dreams and hopes to everybody! I'm the luckiest reindeer in the whole, wide world! Ho ho ho!'

He did not even offer a gift to me. I was a little upset, but vaguely recalled that one had to speak to him repeatedly. I therefore greeted him again.
Jingles: 'What is it? We just spoke. You're so naughty!'

Then: 'Oops, I've really got to get going now. I've got a lot of work to do if I want to finish delivering all the gifts tonight... Well, I'll see you around! Buh-bye!'

I was left again without any gift. I vaguely remembered that one had to change outfits to trick him into thinking that one was a different person, so I hunted down a different outfit, clothed myself and greeted him again, only to be treated to the same speech.

Speaking to him once more:
Jingles: 'Oh, it's you again. Say, which do you like better, big things or things you can fold up?'

I chose 'Big things'.
Jingles: 'Of, of course! Big things, by all means! It's the size of the gift that counts, you know! The better you've been, the bigger the gift!'

Although he had asked my preference, he gave me nothing. Stubbornly, I greeted him again.

Jingles: 'Say, which do you like better, things that are woven or things that are printed?'

Now I was becoming rather frantic. I did not wish to waste all my outfits when he did not give me a gift no matter what I did, but I was not about to admit defeat. I greeted him once more and heard the same speech from him, then:

Jingles: 'Hey, I'm not really supposed to do this, but I'll give you a gift. I think you'll find that it's something you like! Seeing you smile makes me the happiest reindeer in the world! Oh, I'm so lucky! Well, I still have work to do. Buh-bye!'

I was as thrilled as any child on Christmas morning to find a wrapped gift in my rucksack. I rushed home to examine my new Jingles furniture. It was a set of shelves, complete with striped candy cane and holly.

Now I could change my outfit and try again. I ran through the village, dashing from square to square, looking for the magical reindeer. When I found him, he first thought I was the same person but then was deceived by the different clothing I wore.

Jingles: 'Say, I have exactly one gift left over. Strictly speaking, I'm not supposed to do this, but... I'll give it to you! I'm sure you'll find something you like in it! Your smile matters more to me than the most precious gift imaginable! Oh, I'm the luckiest reindeer in the whole wide world! Well, looks like I've got to hoof it. Buh-bye!'

Dear Jingles! He kept the Spirit of Christmas alive when the television aired programmes of murder and mayhem and advertisements shouted about product after product. It is curious how excited one becomes when one receives an imaginary piece of furniture, of all things. A diamond necklace would be more thrilling in reality, but the magic of Animal Crossing is powerful enough to make one believe that a complete set of furniture represents both happiness and worldly success! Special furniture, like Jingle's set, available only at Christmas if one is able to persuade Jingles to part with it, is the ultimate treasure in this charming world.

New Year's Eve approaches now. Last year, I celebrated in the Town Square with Tortimer and my Animal Neighbours in Animal Crossing Wild World for DS. I think I will do so again.

For any one who is disillusioned by the commercialism of the holidays, or is lonely or heavy of heart, I recommend that he or she visit Animal Crossing... (If you need a game guide, you are welcome to use the one I wrote for Animal Crossing Wild World.)

Happy New Year!