It's a Yule tree, dammit

Well, it is. Currently the WI state legislature is locked in a no-holds-barred debate about whether or not to call the big fir tree in the Capitol a Christmas Tree or a Holiday Tree. Leaving out the obvious fact that even a "Holiday tree" ignores Hannukah and Kwanzaa, the tradition is pagan. So there.

Check it out:
Yule, the midwinter festival of lights and sacrifice, is as old-time-religion as you get in Northern Europe.

The tree thing? Several different Pagan religions used trees at this time: Thor's oak, the burning of the Yule Log, and the now ubiqitous tree of lights.

Christmas ham? How about the boar ritually hunted and slaughtered at Freyr's feast?

That lovely red holly and bright white mistletoe? There are several mistletoe legends, but according to the longest-standing Druid tradition, the holly berries represent drops of menstrual blood. Guys, don't feel left out -- you get the mistletoe. Do I have to explain what THAT represents? Anyone feel oogy about standing beneath it and smooching?

How about the big fat guy with the presents? Well, there's a lot of evidence that St. Nick really is a Christian invention, but the older tradition of sneaking into the house and delivering presents to good children traces its origins in Norse stories of Odin, who may have been a power-hungry, vicious bastard, but at least he was fond of the kiddies. (Ok, comparitively there are worse bastards. Sorry, Asatru people. But most of you that I know wouldn't trust him as far as they could throw him, either.)

This is all to say that it's silly to squabble over the symbols you stole hundreds of years ago. It's better to really look into the origins of things and ponder the symbolism and how it changes from era to era and culture to culture. And Yuletide, when you get right down to it, has always been and is still about blood on the snow.

So imagine it's been winter now for 3 or 4 months, depending on your latitude. The apples have run out. Auntie froze to the shed last week. You're down to really salty slightly rotted meat and potatoes. (Ok, not potatoes, but you get the idea.) You've been cold to the bone since October.
What do you really want? THE SUN TO COME BACK! So you dance around to keep warm and wake it up. You shoot wrens, or slaughter boars (or people) and hope their warm blood will start something growing. (I never said pagans were nice.) You light things on fire to give the sun a damn hint about what it's supposed to be doing.
You're tired of soul-searching, tired of darkness, tired of cold, and there's still half a winter left.
Heck with it. Have a party.

It's always been in the nature of human beings to shout into the abyss for no better reason than to remind ourselves that we exist. So do it. Find the people you care about and give them stuff because you're glad they're still alive. Eat pigs together. Light things on fire. Just relax for an evening and believe that the twinkling lights really will bring the sun back because you say so. And quit fighting about the symbols and appreciate the sentiments.