Christmas is about display of love, not love itself. We make the motions of giving, but expect more in return. This porcelain and Bisphenol A village represents our happiness; it glows in a transitory spray of glitter. We do not know each other, nor are we capable of understanding that we cannot know each other in any other than the most shallow of ways.
And the clamor over religion? It is another way to fight, one more way to oppress, to divide ourselves into specific categories of people. "We are they who were born knowing what is right," is what each holds sacred.
But at least it is beautiful.
Christmas is one lie we anticipate all year.