Who's New Year?
"Happy New Year" is what I tire of hearing people say in the weeks of January. What does this "new year" mean to I, Satanist?
Nothing.
It never has. Indeed, the New Year (or January 1st) is a contrived date, beholden only to the Gregorian calendar (and possibly the latest Julian calendar). For me, and many others who think like me—Satanists or not—the first day of January is just as meaningful (or meaningless) as the first (or tenth, or nineteenth, or twenty-sixth) day of any other month. That is, it's simply another day in a full life of days.
I don't make New Year resolutions. If I resolve to change something about myself, I do it as soon as I feel the desire for change. Why put it off. If I don't want to do it I don't make the change. It's really as simple as that. I don't celebrate the New Year with champagne, fireworks, ball drops, party hats, or horns. That kind of kitsch is useless and distracting to me. There's no singing of Auld Lang Syne for I, Satanist. If I want to party like it's December 31st, I can do that any night (or day) of the year!
For this Satanist, the turn of the new year is on the celebration of my birth (which I always make a point of celebrating fiercely). After all, it is my life here on earth that grants me the ability to perceive all that's going on around me, so why not mark that pivotal date as the beginning of a new year. My birthdate was the start of the first year I ever experienced in the confines of a human body, so logic dictates it as demarcation of passing from one year into the next.
So, when I hear people extolling Happy New Year to me, I politely say "Thank you" while thinking "for what it's worth..." For 'tis not a milestone for me as 'tis for the herd. Besides, those cone-shaped party hats look a little like dunce caps, don't they?
