For the ninth and final gift of infant Christmas an infant gave to me a brand new

sort of Christmasy miniisote from 2021 called A Very Merry Visit from Death.

A Very merry Christmas film

a very merry visit from death.

Truth, we want the truth.

Save me forever from the world blinded by fictions.

I'm sick of tide of hearing things from uptight, short sight and al almided hippo critics all

I want is the truth.

Just give me the truth.

Save me forever from the world blinded by fictions.

Religious fictions, Mormon fictions, political fictions, historical fictions, conspiracy fictions, we want the truth. Cracks and breaks in the shelf be damned. All I want is the truth.

All right. Do you really want some truth?

Here it goes. Try this one on for size.

Feel free to return it if it's a little too snug. The receipt is baked right into the bag.

All right, Here we go.

T'was the night before, the night before Christmas, went all through my mind,

came a brief but persistent and more than just a tad bit annoying little knock.

Okay, let's dispense with the rhyme.

Because what I really want to say to all the lights and trees and food and songs and every

other little thing we do to decorate the season, no matter what culture or tradition or style that we use, there really is a reason.

No matter how you dress it up, deep down beneath the fluff and all the wrappings. It's the same for every person.

Persistently beating and tapping.

...