The Christmas Cow brooded. It was the only logical emotional state after eight hours of uncontrollable weeping in a cage intended only to fatten him. For the first time in his short stupid existence, three years, he learned his true purpose, and it had absolutely nothing to do with spreading “spiritual” holiday cheer. Unless, of course, one achieves “spirituality” through dining on prime rib on Christmas Day. It’s a thing. In fact, take a look in the mirror; you may be a contributor.