For one thousand, nine hundred and sixty-six years it has been your way, what with Christmases merry, bright, and so forth. Now we who are cynical of spirit and weary of soul take our turn. This is the far side of Christmas, for those of us who have tested the near side and found it wanting. Here, maledictus, are some of the devices with which we bitterly pass the holiday hours. Learn, too, of the curious and ancient rites with which we foretell the grim future, for it is our credo that insufficient unto Christmas Day is the evil thereof. Here also you will find the customary parasitic foliage, snow scenes, and family frolics, though it must be understood that we suffer not gladly little children, normany adults either. From most of us to some of you, then: a very, very alienated Christmas, a disenchanted New Year, some degree, if you insist, of peace on earth, and whatever you may find to your advantage in goodwill toward men.
I've included some details below: