Observed Alexander Pope, “Drink is the feast of reason and the flow of soul.”
So drink sensibly this Festive Season, i.e., start early, then lash yourself securely to a bar.
And tell the wowsers to go to hell. It’s what hell was invented for. For wowsers. For wowsers who try to deliver “Good News” like this:
If any man come to me, and hate not his father, and mother, and wife,
and children, and brethren, and sisters, yea, and his own life also, he
cannot be my disciple.--[Luke 14:26]
Because even if this was his birthday (which it isn’t) that’s not someone whose disciple you’d want to be, or something you’d want to celebrate. Ever.
At Christmas time we don't say "sacrifice and repent," we say enjoy yourself and thrive! Especially enjoyable when you know Islamic "scholars" find "saying Merry Christmas worse than fornication or killing someone." So hold your drinks high, shout loudly “Merry Christmas and a Salacious Saturnalia,” and celebrate the Season as a time of unabashed earthly joy.
Because it’s entirely self-evident that flourishing and being happy about it is good for you.
So as Tom Waits once said, “Champagne for my real friends, and real pain for my sham friends.” Here’s the Champagne Song from Die Fledermaus to get you started with the appropriate toast: “It’s not how much you drink, it’s what you drink. A toast to King Champagne!” (Kiri’s toast starts about 2:00 in.)
And here’s the drinking song from Verdi’s Otello, sung by an unusually ebullient bunch of Laplanders*. The loose translation is ‘Wet Your Throat,’ but you hardly need an ace translator to work out what they’re singing about.
* Well, almost. Finland is pretty close, right?